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Chapter 29

When James arrived at Whitt’s he was dismayed to see that the earl had already left. He was just about to hurry towards Lord Thornton’s townhouse to seek out the master vampire when he was stopped by the gentlemen’s club’s butler and informed that he’d seen the vampire headed towards the docks. The seedier side of town. Grinning at the prospect of a fresh meal, even though his veins were still pumping with the blood of one of the men that had dared assault the Countess, the young vampire set out after the earl.

The sounds of a brawl reached the sensitive vampire’s ears, followed quickly by the scent of human blood. A smile lighting his face, James strolled into the dilapidated building; the faded sign swinging over the door heralding his arrival at The Dark Pearl.

His eyes roamed over the fight playing out in front of him, the smile never leaving his lips as James punched a human in the face that thought he’d have an easy time taking him out. Grabbing the mug of beer in the man’s hand before he fell unconscious to the floor, the dark-haired vampire guzzled its contents then slammed the empty container down on a table. He didn’t bother jumping into the fray; the master vampire easily trounced all those that tried to take him on. Instead, he just leaned up against the wall and watched the proceedings as one after another quickly met the blond-headed vampire’s fist, only to slump dazed to the dirty floor.

A few minutes later, it was over, and James pushed away from the wall, stepping over bodies that littered the ground to make his way to the earl’s side.

Spike stood in the middle of the tavern, surveying his handiwork. He’d come to the Pearl for a little merriment and the barkeeper had recognized him immediately, word having apparently gotten round over his last adventure on the shadier side of town. Assuring the owner he’d take care of any damages, the blond-headed vampire had picked a fight with the meanest looking guy in the place. Soon, chairs and tables had been upended and fists had been flying.

Now all lay quiet around him, and he moved to the fairly untouched bar to settle his tab. A mug was placed before him, which he quickly drank, and waited while the other vampire gained his side. He’d felt the other’s presence as soon as he’d entered, but had paid him no mind, too intent on working off some of his restless energy and the recent frustration at having the Slayer’s memories returned to her.

“Having fun?”

Spike quirked his brow in answer, a smile hovering about his lips.

“Well, I hope you haven’t wasted all of your energy…I fear I’ve some bad news.”

“What is it?” he demanded.

“Not here. Come on. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Spike turned and threw a stack of notes on the bar and hurried after the younger vampire. Soon the two were racing back towards the Marchioness’ townhouse as James told the master vampire what had transpired a short while ago.

“The men?”

“Dead. They sealed their fates the moment they touched her.”

Beside him, Spike grunted. He was pleased that retribution had been quick; he just wished he’d been the one to do it. The Slayer was his; it was his responsibility. But, he couldn’t fault the others. They’d only been looking out for one of their own. He was just glad someone had been there.

The entire situation had him alternating between anger, worry, and confusion. Anger that she’d dared to leave the house unsupervised. Worry that she’d nearly been hurt, and by a couple of humans, no less – easy pickings for the Slayer. And confusion that she hadn’t fought back, hadn’t easily dispatched the two men that had tried to harm her.

The two vampires raced on, their figures a mere blur at the speed they obtained in their haste to reach Lady Atherton’s residence – neither being the least bit winded from the headlong run – not slowing until they’d gained the steps outside her home.

“What did you do with the bodies?” Spike asked as he knocked on the door.

“Just left them in the bushes. I’ll go see if Alric and Clayton went back to dispose of their carcasses.”

“Good.”

The younger vampire turned and left as the front door opened, revealing the raven-haired vampiress.

“Lord Thornton, come in.”

Spike stepped inside, his eyes briefly sweeping over her slight frame clad in only a nightgown and robe.

“Where–”

“She’s upstairs…resting. Got her to take a bath and garbed in some fresh bedclothes. She’s got a few cuts and bruises, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.”

He looked at her inquisitively, but didn’t comment. His eyes left her face to gaze upstairs, and the steps that would take him to where the Slayer was resting. Relieved that she was safe and relatively unharmed, he allowed his anger to take hold, his amber eyes flashing menacingly. She’d…

“…isn’t that right, Spike?”

Renee didn’t flinch when his head whipped around from where he’d been burning a hole in the staircase as he’d allowed his anger to consume him, his fierce look pinning her in place.

“What did you say?” he asked incredulously.

“I said, as the Slayer, she’s seen a lot worse.”

“She told you?”

“Yes…Buffy is my friend…she needed someone to talk to. Someone who would listen to her, maybe understand a little of what she’s feeling. She’s confused. And, alone.”

Renee paused at his growl, grinning inwardly at his possessiveness. ‘He needs to just tell her how he feels.’ But, she didn’t voice the thought aloud.

“She cares about you. She’s just having a hard time reconciling the Slayer’s feelings with Elizabeth’s. She’s not used to seeing things in anything other than black and white. It’s going to take some time.”

Spike stared at the vampiress. That she’d dare speak to him like this. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to say anything…do anything. And, that shocked him more than her words.

“She’s upstairs waiting for you. Take a right at the top of the stairs. Last door on your right…not that you need my directions.”

With that parting shot, Renee climbed the steps and sought out her own room.

Spike remained rooted to the spot, his eyes lingering on the top of the stairs where she’d disappeared out of sight. His mind mulled over what she’d said. He couldn’t believe the Slayer had told the Marchioness who she was, what she was. Had told her everything. Including them being swept back in time. Spike didn’t know what to think.

But, apparently, the vampiress had not cared one way or the other. Didn’t seem inclined to divulge the information to others. She was different. Shoot, several of the vampires he’d met over the past month seemed different. As if they’d mastered their demon. Maybe not mastered, so much, as reached an understanding. And, that confused the blonde-headed master vampire. To have such restraint, and most were still fledglings. What had happened throughout history to cause them to regress to such a state? To kill without thought from the moment they were rebirthed? Maybe it had something to do with what the half-breed had told them.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He had a wife to see to, and he felt calm enough, now, to enter the room without beating her for the scare she’d given him.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy was twirling around the gym floor with several other couples at the impromptu Halloween dance Sunnydale High had put together. Her red skirts flared out behind her as Angel moved them about the room. Even in her heels, she felt tiny next to him, like a child dancing with her father. He didn’t feel right, his too large frame overwhelming rather than fitting.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, ignoring the look of disappointment and anger being sent her way by her dance partner. She couldn’t find who she was looking for, and reluctantly settled back into Angel’s relaxed embrace.

When the vibrations began around the invisible marks upon her neck, she smiled in relief. He’d come! Her head darted frantically back and forth, trying to get a glimpse of him. Again her search came up empty, but she was comforted by his presence. The song came to an end and she pulled out of Angel’s arms, ignoring his grasping hands, his protests. She hurried away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the floor as a new song began. Their song. It was their song playing. She had to find him…now.

The thought no sooner forming in her head than she felt leather arms circle her from behind, pulling her body back against his. She sighed, happy that he’d found her.

“Dance with me, William.”

She found herself abruptly turned around, the breath nearly taken from her when she slammed into his chest. Lifting her head, she noted the ridges on his brow, his yellow gaze harsh as his eyes bore into hers. He was upset with her, because she’d been dancing with Angel. Her fingers rose to his face, ghosting over the bumps in a soothing gesture.

“I love you,” she told him, knowing that it was what he needed to hear to rid himself of any lingering doubt he may harbor.

His demon melted away, and this time the breath was taken from her as his lips swooped down to claim hers. Her mouth opened at his urging, his tongue slipping inside to take possession of her mouth, staking his claim for all those present. Buffy didn’t care. She was where she wanted to be, locked in the arms of her lover and husband, his hands roaming over her body as his tongue plundered her mouth again and again.

~*~*~*~*~

“Dance with me, William.”

Already hard with the need to reclaim the Slayer, her sleep-induced words drove him over the edge. He quickly divested himself of his clothes, uncaring where they landed, his amber gaze never straying from her unmoving form on the bed. When he was finished, he slipped between the covers and pulled her roughly to him, staring down at her slack features and finding the feel of her silken gown against his bare flesh oddly arousing. Her hands lifted and slid along the ridges of his brow, and he leaned into her touch, delighting as his erogenous zone was caressed.

“I love you.”

His demon features slipped away and he swooped down over her upturned face, claiming her lips. She responded in her sleep, her arms wrapping around his neck, her mouth parting beneath his questing tongue.

~*~*~*~*~

The dance floor disappeared and she was suddenly on a bed, wrapped in the arms of her lover. As they lay on their sides, she felt one cool hand slide up her leg beneath her gown and drape it over his thigh. She strained to get closer to him, wanting to align her body against his, thrilling as her mound came into contact with his burgeoning erection. Moaning into his mouth when the tip of his cock brushed over her outer folds.

He tore his mouth from hers and she gulped in much-needed air while he trailed his lips down her jaw and neck, nuzzling her with his blunt teeth. Her head fell back as he teased the mark upon her flesh, wrapped her arms tighter about his neck to hold him in place.

“Yes…” she hissed and he bit harder, yet still managing to not break the surface.

“William.”

His name was a plea, an entreaty for more. She needed him. Would always need him…

“Look at me, Slayer.”

The words penetrated her haze and her lashes fluttered open to stare up into the deep blue of William’s. Spike’s. Still half asleep and emotions unguarded, her eyes proclaimed the love she felt for him.

Spike saw, however. The tender regard she held for him blazing within her hazel depths. A twist of his hips and he was buried in her velvety heat. Passion ignited between them, her pupils dilating as he began a slow rhythm in and out of her body, blanketing the love he’d seen in her eyes before they’d drifted shut. But, it didn’t bother him. He could feel it in the way she held him, moved against him…her delicate touch as it roamed over his body telling him how she felt, the words she couldn’t voice just yet.

It would come. And for once, he found the patience to wait, rather than force her to admit it.

He continued his unhurried movements, even as the Slayer begged him for more. Their climax, when it hit, was like an endless wave of pleasure simultaneously washing over their bodies. As the last shudder passed through their respective bodies, he stilled, hips lying flush against hers as they remained on their sides, his cock gloved within her tight passage.

Neither moved nor spoke, lying still within the other’s arms.

As the sun began its steady rise into the sky, they slept. Words would come later.

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