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| In Omne Tempus - Season of Change by Holly (4 Reviews) | | - - abc + |  | | | Chapter Two
Season of Change
He didn’t register how hard he was trembling until he felt a tentative hand on his face. The girl was close now. So close. The air around her had changed from terrified to curious. She wasn’t crying anymore. She was simply there. A small girl with eyes swimming in gold, looking at her captor with concern beyond her years.
“You have strange eyes,” she said softly, her soft hand sweeping across his forehead.
“Yeh?” Spike choked. “How’s that?”
“Shining.”
A long, controlled breath hissed through his lips. His mate. God, it was over. He’d found his mate. Drusilla had brought him his mate, only she was so small. So small. Not that the demon cared; not a lick. The demon was screaming and clawing at him, demanding that he get over whatever reservation he had and tie his mate to him forever.
No.
She was just a girl. He wasn’t going to do that to a girl. He didn’t even know how it was possible; humans weren’t compatible for vampiric mates. Darla had never seen Angelus’s eyes glow before she killed him—it had been a lucky break. The child in front of him was not a vampire. She wasn’t.
But she was his mate. There was no second-guessing that. After so many years of belonging to no one, he finally was with the one meant to share eternity with him. He’d found her in the most unlikely form. His destiny. His mate.
And the demon wanted the world to know it.
Take her. She’s yours.
No.
No.
She was so young. He wasn’t about to tie himself together to a child. Not now.
A heavy sigh rushed through his lips. He had to get her out of here. He had to get her home. Had to get her as far from danger as possible.
And then, what else was there but to wait? This girl was his. He had to get her out.
Then watch and wait until she grew older until he could take what was his. Make sure that no other big nasty brought harm to his girl.
“Am I gonna die?” the girl sniffled, her eyes welling with tears.
The thought that anyone could bring his mate harm made the demon snarl protectively and up the urge to sink his fangs in her throat and link her to him forever. Christ, he had to get her out of here now. Get her out and away from the others; away from him. Far away.
“No, sweetpea, you’re not gonna die.” Spike forced a smile and brushed her hair out of her face. “I’ll take you home, yeh? Back to your mum an’ dad.” He smiled as her eyes softened, warming him with the undeserved radiance of her tender trust. “What’s your name, pet?”
She buried her face adorably into the fur of her teddy bear. “Buffy,” she said.
He smiled. “Buffy, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Your mum told you not to give your name out to strangers, right?”
Another nod. “Yeah.” She paused. “But you’re not a stranger, are you? I know you.”
Spike’s head ducked and he shuddered another sigh, tears stinging his eyes. It wasn’t fair. He’d waited so long, and now here she was. Much too young to claim, but his. Wholly his. He couldn’t have her. He couldn’t take her like this.
The world had fallen down around him. In simple seconds, whatever cause he’d dedicated his existence to for the past century was null and void. Decades worshipping Drusilla amounted to nothing. He felt the fabric of time around him had woven into a tapestry of lies. He couldn’t stay with his family. Not now that he’d found her. He couldn’t do anything but watch over her until it was time. Keep her safe from predators like himself. Keep her protected.
“Not a stranger,” he agreed, stiffening as Drusilla’s scent wafted near the door. “You know me.”
“But I don’t remember you.”
Don’t think that’s the way it works, ducks.
“I know.”
Jus’ somethin’ I’m gonna have to explain when you’re older. He cleared his throat. Much older.
There was a creak by the door. Buffy stiffened. “She’s back,” she cried, her eyes welling with tears. “The mean lady is back.” Her small body tightened in his arms. “She’s gonna hurt me.”
Something dark and dangerous fell over him, and he practically saw red. “Hurt you?” he growled. “Did she hurt you? Before I got here? Did Dru—did the mean lady—”
Buffy shook her head. “She said I was a surprise.”
“Surprise.”
“For you.”
Drusilla had brought his mate to him. There was no way she would have done that consciously. Intentionally. While his sire certainly entertained no aspirations of offering herself to him for all time, she similarly was possessive when it came to people she felt belonged to her. She would never have brought his mate to him if she knew that was what Buffy was.
The stars had told her that the girl needed Spike. But that was all. And as she would, thinking absolutely nothing else of it, she had brought the child to him because that was what she believed Miss Edith wanted.
Well, she was right about one thing. He hazarded a glance to the door. You, my darling Buffy, were definitely a surprise.
“My William…” Drusilla cooed, edging into the darkness. The girl gasped and threw herself into Spike’s arms, burying her frightened face in his shoulder. Her teddy plopped to the ground beside him. “Do you like her? Isn’t she a pretty dolly?”
He had never been so terrified in all his life. Buffy was shaking uncontrollably, her small arms around his throat. He felt the hum of her pulse racing just inches beneath his mouth. His fangs had no problem with their propinquity. He needed her blood. He needed her now. Now that his mate was with him, he needed to never let her go.
This is so bloody wrong.
“Sure thing, luv. Pretty as a picture.”
“I hoped you wouldn’t be cross with me, my dearest. Her blood is for you. Yours to taste. Yours to take.”
You have no idea.
Spike forced his eyes shut, his hands wrapping around Buffy’s small arms. “Let go, ducks,” he murmured soothingly. “Jus’ let go for a minute.”
“No!” the girl wailed. “The mean lady’s gonna kill me!”
“Ohhh.” Dru moved further into the room, a pout crossing her lips. “Does the dolly not want to play? Miss Edith won’t approve. No, no. No cake for uncooperative dollies. You make mummy’s tummy hurt.”
“Spike!” The girl was sobbing, and the man inside nearly broke at the sight. The demon raged on, demanding her blood, and he had never been so thoroughly torn. “Spike, don’t let me go! Please!”
His sire cackled in glee. “Ohhh, look at the dolly dance!”
“Dru—”
“Please don’t let her kill me! Please!”
“Shall we tie her up, my sweet? Take turns, you think?” She sneered nastily. “This one will scream for us. Scream all sorts of dreadful things.”
He vamped then; couldn’t help it. Amidst Buffy’s screams and Drusilla’s giggles of pure delight, the demon burst through, and he forfeited control. There would be no harming of the girl. He didn’t care what he had to do; what he lost. None of it mattered now. Nothing mattered.
He had to get Buffy out.
“No,” he barked, holding up a hand.
Dru whimpered. “Are you displeased?”
“’Course not, sweets.” He turned to her then fully, doing his best to ignore the feel of the girl wrapping her body around his leg. “Jus’ wanna enjoy my prezzie all to myself, right? ‘S what the stars told you, innit?”
The pout resurfaced. “Selfish boys don’t get to play with toys.”
“There now,” he cooed, brushing a kiss across her lips. “You can punish me later, yeh? Tie me up an’ tell me what a naughty boy I’ve been.”
She smiled a bit at that.
“See? I know what my princess likes.” He kissed her again. “You should go play with Daddy. See if your grandmum feels up for a game t’night.”
“Daddy!”
Spike nodded encouragingly. “He was talkin’ about you,” he said. “Told me he wanted a taste of your goodies. See if they were as delicious as he remembered.”
It worked. Thank the bloody maker, it worked. With an elated laugh, Drusilla clapped her hands together and bounded out of the room. He waited until he felt her leave their quarters of the half-furnished mansion before allowing the unneeded breath he’d been holding to rush through his lips.
Great. One problem taken care of.
Buffy’s arms tightened around his leg.
“Is the mean lady gone?” she asked softly, her voice stifled with tears. “Is it okay now?”
Spike willed his eyes closed.
“She’s gone, pet.”
“Is she coming back?”
Well, ‘f I know Angelus…
“Not tonight, sweetheart.”
That didn’t make it safe, though. Nothing made it safe. He had to keep Buffy safe until nightfall. Until the sun had submerged once more and he could take her home.
Had to keep her away from his fangs. Had to keep her safe from himself.
At the same time, he recognized this was all he was going to get. For years at that, this was the nearest he could be to his mate without endangering her. Whatever time he had with her was precious. He could coddle her through the day, envision the woman she would eventually become, and pretend that the next decade and a half wouldn’t be the longest years of his life.
Take her, the demon raged. She’s yours. Take her!
“No,” Spike murmured to himself, shaking his head. “I won’t.”
“Huh?”
He forced a small smile to his lips and gathered her in his arms, making sure to scoop up her teddy bear as well. Having been with a woman with an affinity for inanimate objects, he had a good idea how young girls grew attached to stuffed animals. Furthermore, he wanted to pamper her with as much comfort and familiarity as possible. Relax her enough so that she slept. “You’re gonna get some sleep, ducks. I’ll take you home as soon as I can, okay?”
“What about the mean lady?”
Her question coincided nicely with a noisy crash on the floor above them. Spike’s brows perked. He felt a surge of the same old irritation, though it was more obligatory than painful. William understood, even if he ached. The demon didn’t care. The demon had forgotten Drusilla in lieu of the radiance of his mate. The demon didn’t care for her age. The demon didn’t care for any human reservations. The demon wanted the girl in his arms, and he didn’t want to wait.
William wouldn’t allow it.
Spike just hoped his inner ponce was strong enough to overpower the thing that Dru had planted in his body over a hundred years ago.
“Don’ you worry your pretty li’l head about the mean lady,” he told her, carrying her over to the bed he shared with Drusilla. “She won’ bother you.”
He stopped and cringed when he reached the edge of the mattress, a shudder running through his body. No. He couldn’t take his young mate to the place he’d been with the woman before her. His eyes scanned the room before settling on a worn rocker that had likely been there years longer than the building’s recent occupants, and decided it would have to do.
“Where did she go?”
There was another crash and a deranged chuckle on the floor above him.
“That’s a conversation for you an’ your mum to have…but not for a few years, yeah?”
“A grown-up thing?”
He smiled. “Yeh, ducks. ‘S a grown-up thing.”
Buffy’s nose crunched up adorably, and she tightened her arms around him when he settled into the rocker. “I hate it when Mommy tells me that.”
“Your mum has her reasons.”
She nodded. “One time I saw my daddy watching a movie. I think it was a grown-up movie, because I don’t know what it was about.”
“Yeah?”
“This man was hurting this lady.”
Spike turned his head to smother his grin. “You pap was watchin’ this?”
“Mommy got mad at him.”
“Rightfully so, yeh.” He brushed a kiss across her brow and shuddered at the taste of her sweet skin. “How old are you, Buffy?”
She held up four fingers.
“Four, huh?”
Bloody hell.
Four years old. His mate was a tender four years old. And he had to wait.
“Mommy says I’m a very old four. I don’t know what that means, but she says it a lot.”
“Means you’re mature for your age, sweets.”
“What’s mature?”
“’S…you act older than you are, I guess. Know more than you should. ‘S a good thing. Your mum says it ‘cause she’s proud of you.”
Eighteen, he decided. I’ll wait until she’s eighteen. Eighteen’s a good, rite-of-passage age. I’ll wait till then.
A good fourteen years away.
“When do you turn five?”
“March.”
“Anythin’ you want?” He brushed wayward strands of golden hair out of her face, relaxing slightly when she snuggled into his chest. “Anythin’ you’ve been pesterin’ your mum for?”
“I want a pig.”
“A pig?”
“There’s a piggy in the store. That’s where we were. Mommy let me go birthday shopping, and I saw a piggy I want.”
Spike’s eyes fell shut. Dru had taken this angel while she was out with her family, looking for birthday presents. In hindsight, he suspected he would eventually have to thank her. Were it not for her intervention, he would have never found Buffy. There was no reason to think his mate was trapped in the body of a child.
He still didn’t know what he thought about that. What there was to think about that. And for now, he was satisfied with passive acceptance. There would be plenty of time to curse the card that fate had dealt him.
“Is this piggy like your bear, here?” He held up the teddy, doming his brows. “All…fluffy?”
“Mr. Jenkins is not fluffy.”
“Mr. Jenkins? You named your bear Mr. Jenkins?”
“Of course not,” Buffy replied indignantly. “That’s just his name.”
“Ah, I see.” He smiled. She was a picture of innocence. Purity. Pure vivacity. She was the sun to his midnight; the embodiment of everything he was not. Everything a creature of his nature did not deserve. “So is this pig like Mr. Jenkins?”
“He’s a stuffed aminal.”
“Aminal?”
She nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Well, you’re a smart one, then. Real pigs? That’d be a bloody mess.”
Buffy made a face. “Bloody?”
Gah. Why did he have to mention blood? His eyes were drawn back to her throat before he could stop himself, and he wet his lips as the strings of his self-control tightened even further.
You don’t have to wait. You can claim her now. You’ve earned it.
No! William screamed. I won’t!
He wasn’t going to turn Buffy into an eternal child. That wasn’t fair. Not fair to either of them.
He was going to wait. Wait fourteen years…then he’d have earned it.
“Never you mind,” he told her, tugging on one of her pigtails. “Jus’ be a good girl for Spike, an’ you might get a surprise on your birthday, yeh?”
“You’ll get me the piggy?”
“Ah, ah, ah, sweetpea.” He pressed a finger to his lips, eyes twinkling. “Don’ wanna spoil the surprise.”
“Humph.”
“Ohhh, pouty.” Spike grinned and kissed her forehead again. The demon roared in objection at the presentation of compassion, but he forced himself not to care. “Rest now.”
“And you’ll keep the mean lady away?”
“Yeh. I’ll keep the mean lady away.”
Buffy smiled and closed her eyes, seemingly content with this. She tugged her oddly-named teddy bear to her and sighed. “Sing me a lullaby.”
“Don’ know many lullabies.” None that he wanted to sing. “You fancy any bands?”
“My mommy likes the Beatles.”
He grinned. “That I can do, poodle.”
He’d sung Drusilla to sleep more times than he could remember. Never had it seemed as precious as it did now. The woman he’d spent his unlife with was mentally no older than the small bundle in his arms. He deserved more. He deserved what his mate could give him.
That promise calmed him from now.
“The long and winding road,” he began softly, rocking her back and forth. “That leads…to your door…”
She was asleep within minutes, her angelic face bringing him comfort, even with the drool that spilled onto his shirt.
In less than an hour, his world had been granted new life. He had a new reason for living. A new reason for surviving.
How it was in the body of a child, he didn’t know.
Only that he would die protecting her.
He was a vampire; she was his mate. That was simply the way it was. The mold of his making forbid him from even considering anything else.
The rest he would think about later.
All he had was time.
To be continued in Chapter Three: Goodbye’s Such A Hard Thing To Say…
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