A/N: There is a scene in here that I have stolen and reformatted from a scene I wrote in Disco Book II simply because it works so well with this story, and I’ve been waiting for a real project in which I could use it. I’ve also redone parts or themes of Spike’s speech in Fool For Love, which will be overly obvious, but I wanted to acknowledge that I took it to preempt anyone who thought they should point that out.
Four chapters left following this one. Thank you!
Chapter Sixteen
A Softer Place To Land
He would never forget the look on her face. Never. In a thousand years, after they’d spent each day in each other’s arms, overcoming foes and obstacles unforeseen in this century, this moment—today—would be fresh in his mind. Fresh sparks of happiness filling eyes that only a few days ago had been so thoroughly devastated. He had brought new life to her. Life that neither one of them had been prepared for. Now at the end of their first week together, it seemed impossible that he had ever gone an entire day without this. Without waking up with her in his arms. Without knowing the wonder at being the one she needed. Without having her all to himself—her taste, her kisses, the raw agony of her tears.
A few days. She had tried to go outside and found herself scathed in return. She had awoken sobbing for the loss of her sire, but the wail was gone now. Even without the connection he wanted, he would have known if her demon was still in that state of agony only a lost vampire could describe. Buffy was no longer a lost vampire. She had a long way to go still, but then again, so did he. He just made a better show for covering it up.
There wasn’t much for candles and romance in his crypt. Buffy deserved so much better than a hole in the ground.
And then he had asked her, and the world stopped turning.
“You…” Buffy had started slowly, looking at him in awe. “You really want that?”
The fact that she even had to ask tore him to bits.
“God, yes,” Spike replied ardently, fervor storming his eyes. “I love you. Of bloody course I want it. Wanted it that firs’ night, when you were here an’ cryin’, an’ I couldn’t do anythin’ for you. I wanted you…” He glanced down and released a steady breath. “This is it for me, sweetheart,” he began slowly, looking up when he had a tighter rein on his emotions. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. As much as I love you. An’ I never will. You’re it for me.”
She paused cautiously. “But you thought Dru was it for you, too.”
“She wasn’t.”
“But what if you meet someone else and…someone who’s not hampered by a soul and is all ‘Oh, humans! My favorite on-legs happy meal!’” Buffy tore her eyes away uncertainly. “I just…I just want you to be sure. I couldn’t take it if you…I just couldn’t take it.”
“If I killed?”
She wet her lips. “If you left. If you realized you’d made a mistake. If you met someone who…and you realized you’d made a mistake with me, but were bound to me for forever. And you couldn’t—”
Spike growled slightly and hopped off the sarcophagus, storming to where she sat and all but yanking her into his arms.
“Now, you listen to me,” he said slowly. “I love you. I don’ dick around with words like that without meanin’ it. You own me, body an’ the other thing. An’ I know you’re it because it’s never been like this for me. Never. There’s no one out there I could ever begin to want as much as I want you, let alone love. I don’ do it half-assed, Buffy. If my feelings were different, I wouldn’t’ve asked you. If I thought this was a fling, I wouldn’t’ve said a bloody word. You’re it for me. An’ I want you as my mate, an’ I’ve never wanted anythin’ as much. I want our life together to begin now.” He broke off, shaking his head aggressively. “I can’t fathom an eternity without you. The thought alone…” A violent shudder rang through his body, and he felt tears sting his eyes. “I won’ do it. I can’t do it. I got over Dru because she wasn’ it. Because what I felt for her was jus’ an imitation of the real thing. You’re it. You…leavin’ you wouldn’t jus’ destroy me. There’d be nothin’ left at all.” He paused. “Destroyed…not defeated. Is that how the sayin’ goes? You can destroy a man, but you can’t defeat him. So you see, sweetheart, you already got yourself a mate in name. I’m gonna feel whatever you feel. I’ll be there till the bloody end…an’ I want this more than…” He shook his head again, pressing his brow to hers as his body calmed. “God, I love you so much, Buffy. To hurt you is…I’m not gonna be like the others, right? I’m not gonna leave you. I never could. It’d be the end of me. With or without the claim, I’m yours forever. I jus’ want you to be mine, too.”
Her face was a mess of tears, and she had pulled him to her before he could apologize for making her so upset. Hugging him tightly to her, releasing a long sigh of relief when his arms closed around her trembling body.
“God, I’m such a git.” Spike pulled back slightly and kissed her mouth, shuddering at the taste of her tears. “’m sorry, baby. Never wanted to make you cry.”
“No, no.” She shook her head and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I’m okay.”
“Buffy—”
“They’re happy tears, Spike,” she whispered. “I just…I guess…I never thought that you would really…that you could want me the way I want you.”
A small, gentle smile crossed his face, and he kissed her again. “Then you’re daft. I’ve felt this way for-bloody-ever. Longer than even I can keep tabs on. Prob’ly since the firs’ time I saw you. Dancin’ in the Bronze…god, you were so bloody perfect.” He buried his face in the crook of her throat, drawing her as close to him as possible. “Please don’ doubt me,” he whispered. “I was with Dru from the moment I crawled outta my grave, an’ I would’ve stayed with her if she hadn’t gotten bored an’ cast me aside. An’ it wasn’t real with her. It’s real with you, luv. What I feel for you…it’s so much more than anythin’ I even thought possible.”
She squeezed him to her tightly and brushed a kiss across his shoulder. “Me too,” she replied.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’…’f you ever regretted it, it’d break my heart.”
“I’m sure.”
“Buffy—”
She pulled back and kissed him tenderly, stroking his tongue with hers. “I’m sure,” she said. “I’m so sure. It’s…for the first time…real to me, too.”
Spike froze against her, sure he had heard wrong. “The…did you jus’ say the firs’ time?”
“Yes.”
“Even…” He drew in a breath, the name alone nearly inspiring his fangs to descend in a jealous outburst. “Even…it wasn’ real with…you’re sayin’, even includin’…”
Buffy smiled and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Yes.”
“Bloody hell.” He cupped her cheeks reverently and seized her mouth with his, pulling her into him. It was so simple for the world around them to dissolve. For everything else to get shoved aside for the feel and taste of her. For the way she whimpered into him and couldn’t keep her hands from exploring his body. Every touch she gave him drove him completely out of his mind. Just when he thought he couldn’t want her more, she completely turned his world upside down.
“So is that a yes?” he murmured when they pulled apart.
“What?”
“You acceptin’ my…” He broke off, grinning. “Well, proposal, for lack of a better word.”
She laughed lightly and glanced down. “This is the second time you’ve proposed to me in a year,” she said.
“Yeh, well, if you’d actually gone through with it the firs’ time…”
“Me?! You’re the one who called it off.”
“Yeh. ‘Cause that expression of horror on your face was your best ‘come hither’ look. I might be a soulless, bloodsucking thing, but I have my pride, you know.” His grin widened and he kissed her again. “Buffy, I’m on pins an’ needles here.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
Buffy scowled at his dancing eyes. “You know damn well what.”
“An’ a bloke doesn’ like to hear it?” He chuckled as he leaned in to nibble affectionately at her throat. “This is, after all, an’ accepted proposal to an eternity bein’ stuck with yours truly. Don’ wanna walk away from this thinkin’ that you feel you got the consolation prize.”
“You’re so not the consolation prize.” She smirked. “If you’re the consolation prize, I’d like to take a gander at first place.”
“Buffy—”
“What do you want me to say? Yes, yes, yes to all of the above. I want you to claim me. I want to be claimed. I want to claim you. I want to be your mate. I want to spend eternity with you. I want it all.”
Spike tackled her back on the sarcophagus, kissing her into the next world. His hands were everywhere; he couldn’t taste her enough, touch her enough, to appease his insatiable hunger. He wanted to take her now. Wanted to lose himself inside her for hours. Wanted to sink his fangs into her throat as he took her body with his, and whisper those glorious words that would make her his forever.
Pulling away was one of the hardest things he had ever done. There were certain things that couldn’t be rushed.
In order for her to be his—for them to be each other’s—there was one more thing they had to do.
And he suddenly knew how to do it.
A frown crossed her face when he pulled away. “Why stopping?” she pouted. “Want more smoochies.”
He grinned. “Oh, you’ll get them, sweetheart. That an’ more so.”
“Then why stopping?”
“I think I jus’ figured somethin’ out.” He pressed his brow to hers. “’m gonna give you somethin’ you need.”
She was working a hand between them, suspiciously directed at his erection. “Yeah, there is something I need.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Spike seized her wrist and dragged her away from him. “Playtime later.”
“Evil.”
“Yes. I’ve never tried to steer you otherwise.” He planted a kiss on her nose. “I’ll be back soon.”
Buffy sat up, her pout deepening. “So now you’re not only refusing me, you’re leaving me, too?”
“Two things,” he murmured, “that I can assure you are not in my workin’.”
“And yet, towards the door you go.”
Spike smiled. “Won’t be long. An’ then we’ll give this theory of mine a test.”
“Theory?”
“Help you with your demon, sweetling. With the violence an’ the rest…I know how.” He caressed her cheek tenderly. “’S important, luv, before we make it official. That is, ‘course, presumin’ you still want me to.”
The mock-pout in her eyes vanished into something kindled with awe. “You…really?”
He nodded.
“H-how?”
A smile at that. “That, my love, would spoil the surprise, now wouldn’t it?”
“Surprise?”
He winked. “You’ll see.”
*~*~*
Spike was not known for his patience when it came to keeping a secret, even if only for an hour or so. Well, to be completely fair, he wasn’t known for his patience at all, which only contributed to her intrigue at his boyish resilience. He arrived home about an hour after he had left, taken one look at her, then dragged her across town to the wooded area that surrounded Sunnydale. A place she didn’t know very well. Her slaying duties didn’t take her out this far often, and even so, she made little effort to familiarize herself with the paths and trails that would otherwise help her ongoing mission.
“Is this really necessary?”
Spike tossed her a narrow glance. “Would I have you out here if it wasn’t?”
“I mean, is it necessary for me to be out here in the forest? What’s wrong with the graveyard?”
“Well, I’ll bet all the money in my pockets against all the money in your pockets plus a carton of ciggies that you jus’ don’t get out here all that often. An’ I want you somewhere where you don’ know your way around with a bloody blindfold on.”
Buffy smirked. “You want me, eh?”
He chuckled. “More than you know.”
“You know, if you wanted to be voyeuristic, we could’ve gone somewhere more public.” She paused. “Are you filming a porno out here?”
That earned an all out laugh. “God, I’ve completely corrupted you, haven’t I?”
“What?”
“That’s all that’s on your mind, huh? Sex, sex, sex.”
She giggled. “Well, you know that phase in new relationships where you can’t keep your hands off each other?”
A sneer crossed his face. “Do I ever,” he retorted, pinching her ass and earning a squeal. And Buffy was suddenly assaulted by five feet ten inches of an intensely aroused vampire. Out in the open, there was nothing to press her against, thus he lost all pretense and hauled her into his arms, mouth ravaging hers for all it was worth as his lower half came to instant life. Were it not for previous arrangements, he likely would have taken her there on the ground. “What does that tell you?”
It took a second before she remembered that she didn’t need to breathe. “That you shouldn’t be throwing stones.”
“God, I love you,” he murmured ardently.
“Love you more.”
“Do not.”
“Wanna bet?”
“That’s it, woman!” He dropped her unceremoniously. “You’re goin’ down!”
“Maybe later,” she retorted with a smug grin, fighting to her feet without breaking eye contact. “In the meantime…don’t you have some thingy to be teaching me?”
“This is jus’ payback, right?”
“Oh yeah.”
He grinned. He was irrefutably whipped. Whipped with a capital W.
There were worst things to be.
The peroxide vampire eyed her hungrily. Oh yeah. Definitely worst things to be.
“Right. First of all…” Spike nodded at her seemingly empty hands, knowing well very that Buffy never went anywhere without the necessary precautions. It didn’t take years of fighting her to know that. “What’re you packin’?”
She shrugged and allowed her customary artillery—two stakes—to slide out of her sleeves and drop haphazardly to the ground. “Just the usual. Why?”
“Leave ‘em here.”
“Spike, we’re about to go into a hellmouthy forest, and—”
“—You’re a vampire,” he reminded her softly. “Lesson the first: you already got your weapon, luv. An’ this…” He melted into game face, gesturing to himself demonstratively. “Is all the weapon you’ll ever need. You got everythin’ else. The speed, the cunnin’, the strength…everythin’ to scare any worthy opponent.”
Buffy smiled. “Whatever happened to your affinity for weapons, Spike? Now you’re the one who doesn’t practice what he preaches.”
“My reasonin’ remains the same as ever. I don’ need them; I jus’ like them.” He grinned and reiterated the very same action that had sealed their introduction all those years ago, running his hand suggestively down his middle and coming to rest at the waistband of his jeans. “They make me feel all manly.” Then he was serious again. “The difference is, I’m comfy as can be without them. You’re not. You’re always needin’ to improvise. An’ yeh, as the Slayer, that’s expected. It’s what you required to survive; you din’t have a nice pair of sharp fangs at your disposal before. Well, sweetheart, you do now.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned forward to nearly chastely kiss her lips. “So let’s see ‘em.”
There was a minute of consideration before Buffy complied. Spike merely grinned at her. He loved her demon persona. He reckoned he had never seen anything more beautiful.
“Lesson the second,” he continued, slightly choked. “As the Slayer, you were always taught to channel the darker part of you. To push it aside an’ bloody well ignore it because it was wrong, an’ all that rot. We’re all from the same mold, kitten. Demons an’ Slayers alike. The PTB made us what we are…an’ we’re all essentially workin’ for the same cause. For the balance. Your job as the Slayer was to make sure the balance was kept. Your job as a vampire is to disrupt that balance as much as bloody possible.” He held up a hand when he saw her begin to protest. “Now, now. I don’ expect you to go muck-havin’ an’ makin’ life for the new Chosen bird a livin’ hell. That’s not in the innate Buffy Summers wirin’, an’ we couldn’t have that, could we? The real secret is findin’ a medium between what’s good for you as a person…an’ what’ll satisfy your demon. You’ve had the wirin’ for this all along, kitten. Now you’re jus’ playin’ on the other side. Where before you were encouraged to hold back, now you gotta…let go.”
Buffy frowned. “All right…what…?”
Spike crossed his arms and regarded her sharply. “Why do vampires hunt, luv?”
The answer that came immediately to mind was one that had been beaten into her conscience from the first day of accepting her calling. It was instinctive against the cold front of mindless understanding. And while she inwardly berated herself for her lack of insight, the look on Spike’s face clearly betrayed the acceptance that he anticipated the worst form of answer. “To feed,” she answered. “To kill. To cause chaos.”
He smiled softly at her misplacement. “Yeh,” he agreed. “That’s part of it, luv. I won’ lie to you. But, despite how your Watcher might’ve liked to muck up the truth, there’s a lot more. It’s the hunt we need, you see? Doesn’ matter if we’re chasin’ a pulser or a creature of the night, which was why I took to killin’ my own kind as right naturally as I did when the Initiative prats shoved the chip into my cranium. As long as it puts in a good chase, the demon’s always satisfied with the outcome. The difference bein’ the taste. Pig’s blood can be rich as you make it to be, pet. But baggin’ it? It’s against your nature. You jus’ don’ know the difference because you’ve never really been a vampire.” He held up a hand at her predictable protest. “You’re human to your center, sweetheart. Human through an’ through. To be a vampire, you need to have tasted it. Been the full without guilt an’ the rest. An’ you haven’t. Not in the greater scheme of things. Which is why your firs’ trial is gonna be to let loose an accept what the monster inside you wants…what it always wants…”
For a minute, she swore her heart was pounding again. The look he delivered went right through her and shook her to her very core. “What’s that?”
The next few seconds were filled with remembrance. A lifetime ago, Spike had taught her how to be a Slayer. Taught her with more words and action than Giles could ever hope to. Her own pride had led her through trial and error to where she was now. Standing here with a creature she should not want—but did. Someone she should not love—but did. Someone who, against all his inner workings, should not love her back.
But did.
And now he wanted her to accept her darkness. Moreover, he wanted her to understand that there was nothing wrong with it. Slayers and vampires were all spurned from the same dust—one born of light, the other of dark. The nature was there whether she wanted it or not. Accepting nature did not make her evil. It made her simply that—herself.
She had asked for this. And she knew it meant a lot to him. It meant the world to him.
Thus she did not betray any emotion other than a slight shiver when he leaned inward and whispered against her ear, “One. Good. Day.”
Spike smiled and waited until he had her gaze once more before answering. “I want you,” he murmured, “to go hunting.”
With that, a timely squeal sounded through the air and a full-grown pig raced by them. Buffy gasped when she noted the predatory swirl in her lover’s eyes, and knew immediately what he was expecting.
She jumped back as though burned. “You want me to kill the piggy?”
“Close enough. I want you to eat the piggy.”
“Gross! No!”
“Don’ think of it as a piggy. Think of it as supper. A nummy treat.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry. There is a Piggy-Factor here. I can’t eat the piggy.”
“Buffy…” He shook his head. “That’s the very same pig that was gonna be bled for our supper tonight. Forked over a few more bucks, an’ it’s here, now, instead of waitin’ to be gutted at the butcher’s. ‘S not like you weren’ gonna taste it, anyway.”
“So let it be bled!” she barked. “It’s…you want me to…with my…that’s gross, Spike.” Buffy waved her hand airily and stepped back with disgust. “Ew!”
“’S what you are,” he said softly. “You wanted this, Buffy. You wanted me to show you what you are. The demon always wants the hunt. Always. An’ yeh—pig’s blood isn’t exactly the nummiest treat on the planet, but is a whole helluva lot better to take it this way than have it bloody spoon-fed to you. Vamps weren’ made for that, an’ neither are you. They need the exhilaration. The sweat. The speed. They need to know that they’ve earned what they’re taking. Now, if you wanna back out, that’s understandable. But that doesn’ change what you are. What your demon’s always gonna want. What it needs…right now.”
Buffy sighed deeply and forced herself to meet his eyes. There was no backing out. She knew if she resigned herself once more to kidding her bloodline that she was human, things would never be the same between them. He would always love her, of course, but he wanted her to understand. He needed her to understand. Rejecting her nature would be akin to rejecting him, because it was his nature, too.
A predatory grin crossed his lips when she nodded. “Then toddle off an’ get yourself fed, Slayer. Want you at full strength. You’re about to know what fightin’ the Big Bad’s all about.”
Something icy and cold pressed against her mouth but was gone before she could reciprocate, or even realize that she had been kissed. “I love you,” he said gruffly. Then it was over. It was time. Spike had disappeared, and the challenge had begun.
*~*~*
This was getting ridiculous.
Don’t think of Mr. Gordo, she warned herself. Or Piglet. This is not Piglet. This is a stinky, disgusting animal, and I want it for its blood. Don’t think of Piglet. Piglet’s a cute cartoon. Piglet doesn’t smell. Piglet is Winnie’s little friend. This is not Piglet. He could be Wilbur, but he’s not Piglet. Bah!
From her line of sight, she watched the pig snort and bed itself into an earth covered with leaves.
He sure looks like Wilbur…or Babe…stop comparing your dinner to fictitious cartoon pigs!
The swine snorted again. And she could hear its pulse singing through the soundless forest.
And she was hungry.
Very hungry.
And stubbing her toe on a log her brain hadn’t warned her was there.
“Dammit!” Buffy snapped loudly without realizing it, startling the pig to its feet with the realization that it was no longer alone.
Great, now you’ve gone and done it. So much for a surprise attack.
The pig snorted again as its beady eyes scanned the night-fallen forest in search of the creature that had perturbed its rest. Buffy knew it looked directly at her more than once, but she had resolved to such schooled stillness that it somehow managed to miss her completely. Then she remembered her alleged vampiric thrall—the way she had mechanics about her that were supposed to melt her into the scenery, especially when scenery was covered in shadows.
Spike hadn’t taught her that. He hadn’t even mentioned it. She just hoped it was innate.
Even so, that didn’t mean the pig couldn’t smell her.
The Slayer’s tongue caressed the underside of her fang. She was starving. She knew she was starving. Spike had forbidden her to eat anything before she came out here with him. And sure, while she hadn’t exactly expected a candlelit picnic, she had suspected that he’d brought provisions.
Well, Buff, he did. You’re looking right at it. Your man would never let you go hungry.
The demon inside raged eagerly.
Time for a little death.
Buffy grinned. “Here, piggy piggy piggy…”
A hungry roar rumbled through her throat as her prey squealed to attention. Oh
yeah. This was definitely going to work up an appetite.
No more Miss Nice Vamp.
It was suppertime.
*~*~*
Buffy vaguely registered that she was surrounded in the darkness of the forest. She blinked, waning away the instinctive sleep that overwhelmed her after eating a large meal. Behind her, the dead swine lay in motionless glory. She refused to turn around and look at it. The reality of her actions had yet to settle in, but she begrudgingly had to concede that the essence of pig had never tasted as rich before. Laced with the additive flavoring of exhilaration. She had listened to its heart slow to a stop as she fed. She had liked it. She had…
Rewind. She had liked it.
She had liked it a lot.
Can we say eww?
The rational side of her brain stepped in. Stop. You liked it; you just don’t want to admit that a certain lickable peroxide honey was right.
Hunting and killing that pig had enriched the blood to near catastrophic proportions. While Buffy had a vague recollection of the taste, it was like stepping into a marathon of déjà vu. Looking at the dead man in Dracula’s castle. A man that had been hunted by her sire. Hunted for her. And despite the horrors surrounding that night, she remembered how good he had tasted. How right it had felt despite the screaming of her human conscience. How the demon inside had rejoiced.
Spike had been right.
Again.
Damn him.
Buffy looked up sharply when a twig crunched against the earth. Her neon eyes flickered with meaningful dissent and she automatically hissed and scampered for the shrubs. A predator was nearing, and she needed to be on alert.
Predator.
The mark on her throat suddenly burned and a sharp pain attacked her gut. The incomplete claim mark that they had decided to make official when it felt right. While excruciating, she somehow managed to ignore it. It nearly seemed natural. Justified.
Something was about to happen.
Another perk to vampirism: darkness provided no object. While she had been blessed with uncanny perception as the Slayer, Buffy had discovered over the past few days that her night sight was damn near scary at how much she could pick up.
She saw him before she heard him, but that didn’t make his words any less provocative.
“Sla-yer,” the platinum intruder singsonged. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…”
Tantalizing reiteration. She remembered well the last time he used that line on her.
The night of their first fight. Long, long ago.
I find one of your friends first, I’m gonna suck ‘em dry. An’ use their bones to bash your head in. Are you gettin’ a word picture, here?
Predator. Vampire.
Mate.
Not yet. Not her mate yet.
Something inherent rumbled through her, and she knew all cause was lost.
It was time.
Spike stopped at the pig carcass and inhaled appreciatively. “Got your supper, then,” he drawled teasingly. “Don’ rightly know when your inhibitions became the type that don’ last too long, but I gotta say, I’m pleased, luv.” She watched him scan the terrain, using her own vampiric-mojo to remain stealthily secluded. “I know you’re there, Buffy! I can smell you. Feel you.” He emphasized the last by running a hand down his middle again. She refused to allow her eyes to follow. “Time to come out. Come out, Kitty. We’re gonna dance.”
There was a low growling in the back of her throat—subhuman but as natural as anything she had ever felt before.
Powerful.
Oh yeah.
He had brought her so far in such a small amount of time. From cowering and screaming at what she was to embracing it. She would never have envisioned herself here.
And if he wanted to dance, she would give him a dance.
Slayer and demon combined.
Spike’s eyes widened in glee when she launched herself at him, wrapping herself around him with a fierce roar. He growled back at her, his neon eyes taking in every curve of her body. They struggled for dominance for a few delightful minutes; the younger vampire’s more potent strength evidently did not merit shying away from a challenge. And in the end, it was likely more the surprise that deemed Spike the victor. Buffy gasped with realization as the world came back to her, and her demon receded once more deep within her body, leaving her at the mercy of a master vampire.
That was all it took. Spike trapped her body beneath his, gleaming at her victoriously. Then his own demon purred to satisfaction and let the man inside take over. He lowered his mouth to her lovingly, and wasted no time in lapping at the remaining pig’s blood on her face.
“See there,” he murmured huskily. “What you are hasn’t changed who you are inside. You’re jus’ this, too.”
A long mewl tore through her throat, and she thrust her pelvis into his. “Spike…”
His mouth lowered again, nibbling dotingly on her throat. “Mmmm?”
“God, Spike, please!”
His head reeled up, eyes smoldering. “Not out here.”
“Home then?”
Spike smiled. The world, at that moment, could not have known two sweeter words.
“Home,” he agreed heatedly.
Tonight, then. It would happen tonight.
It was time.
To be continued in Chapter Seventeen: Time Cannot Erase My Passage Through This Sacred Place…
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