Midnight in the Garden of Evil
Chapter 11
~*~*~*~*~
And the silken sad
uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
The foursome strolled in
the darkness of Sunnydale, masters of their territory.
Spike led, holding Buffy by the hand, his leather swirling out behind him
as he strode towards Ripper’s pad. His
eyes swept over Buffy’s outfit appreciatively, the leather pants clinging to
her like a second skin, her nipples clearly outlined under the flimsy top.
“Nice togs, pet.
Tryin’ to get me going?”
“I have to try?
I’m crushed!” Playful Buffy was a delight; her enjoyment of her new status
had transformed her. Gone was the
whiny, self-centered girl, submerged completely by the hedonistic and vicious
vampire who loved and killed with a passion that eclipsed many older vampires he
knew.
He laughed, a deep rumble
in his chest, and swept her up to spin her round before kissing her and setting
her back on her feet. Drusilla
looked on with dark, downcast eyes. The
pairs’ obvious and deepening affection for each other was beginning to wear on
her. She’d been prepared to give
him time to raise his Childe, break her to the vampire way, before reasserting
her claim on him. But instead of a
cowering and obedient demon, Buffy was an equal, Spike’s equal.
A rival. She began to sing
softly to herself to keep at bay the visions that crowded her head, visions of
Spike wrapped in golden hair, eyes full of adoration.
That look should be hers.
It would be again; she’d bide her time but he would be her Spike.
The stars whispered…
Xander looked around him
with enhanced eyesight; everything looked new, sharper, more defined.
He could hear heartbeats, breathing, as they passed through the main
street and he struggled to restrain himself from rushing into the crowds and
tearing them apart. He wasn’t in full control of his demon yet, but Spike had
taken over his instruction in place of his absent Sire and he could at least now
repress his vampire features until he wanted them to show.
Still, with all that warm, pumping blood so near, it wasn’t easy…
Spike turned to check on
Xander. He knew this would be a big
challenge for the new vampire, the first time he’d been among so much
humanity. He flashed his adopted
Childe a reassuring glance, nodding slightly in approval as the youngster had
managed to retain his human façade. He
frowned as he noticed Drusilla muttering to herself, her head down.
She was off, his Princess; something was bothering her.
He knew what it was…he just didn’t want to do anything about it.
He still cared for her; she was his Sire after all, his savior, but what
he had with Buffy was different, more intense.
Buffy matched him in everything; they were a perfect pair.
And just as Spike had always come second to Angelus with Drusilla,
Drusilla would have to learn to come second to Buffy with him.
He’d deal with it, later, after he’d dealt with Angel.
He stopped suddenly, eyes
closed, head back as he sniffed the air. Angel
was near; they should change direction in order to be waiting for him.
He upped the pace, the others following.
~*~*~*~*~
“Giles!
Giles! It’s Angel…open
up, I need to talk to you.”
He was hammering on the
door, his fist almost bloody with the impact.
“Yes, yes…I’m
here…hold on.”
Ripper turned back to
check that his four visitors were hidden from view before turning on the light
and opening the door. He affected a
flustered look, his hair ruffled, his spectacles awry.
“What on earth is it,
Angel? What’s happened?”
“Giles, I don’t know
how to tell you this…maybe you should sit down.
Hell, I know I need to.”
“What is it?
Come on, man, you’re scaring me now.”
Ripper had to keep tight
hold of his mocking laughter as Angel’s heavy brow crinkled with concern, his
brown eyes full of tears and empathy, the struggle to speak evident.
“It’s Buffy,” he
whispered. “Spike and
Drusilla…they…she’s gone, Giles.”
“She’s dead?”
Ripper tried to inject as much incredulity into his voice as he could,
struggling to stifle the building laughter.
For added effect, he hung his head and whipped off the spectacles to
dangle from his fingers.
“Worse.
She’s a vampire.”
Ripper stood, turning his
back on the hunched form of Angel and walking towards the kitchen.
He allowed his mouth to curve into a wide smile as he met up with his
allies. They were all enjoying the
show and Angel’s grief was clouding his senses to their presence, for now.
Ripper grabbed a bottle of
scotch and two glasses before slipping his Giles mask back in place as he
returned to the living room. He
even allowed a tear or two to slip down his cheeks.
“Angel, are you
absolutely certain? Tell me what
happened.”
He handed him a glass and
Angel gratefully downed the fiery liquid before relating his experiences in the
factory. Ripper listened, shocked
concern and grief etched on his features.
“I don’t know what to
say, Angel. I’m just devastated.
I can’t believe this has happened.
I don’t know what I’m going to tell her mother.”
“Yeah, poor Joyce; I
don’t know how she’ll cope with…wait…”
Angel was looking at
Ripper quizzically. “You said she
was out of town with her mom.”
“Hmm, yes, but obviously
she came back.”
“But, you said Joyce
called you, told you Buffy was with her..….”
“Bugger.”
Ripper stood up then tossing the glass he held away from him.
Angel was backing away, taking stock.
“Giles…what is this,
what’s going on?”
Angel flared his nostrils
as he picked up a familiar scent. He
growled, fists balled, as Spike came to stand behind Ripper.
“So the game’s up,
mate. Well, it was fun while it
lasted. What’s up, Angel?
You seem a bit upset? Eaten
someone that didn’t agree with you? Or
maybe it’s just…this.”
Spike beckoned to Buffy to
come to him. She sauntered to stand
beside him, twining her fingers in his and meeting his passionate kiss with
equal fervor. She looked at her
first love and felt only a vague connection to him, a link of blood through her
Sire. He was nothing to her.
“See, it seems that
Buffy here’s traded up. She’s
mine now, Angel, all mine. You don’t get
to lay a finger on her. Isn’t
that right, pet?”
Spike turned to Buffy,
grabbing her flush against his body as he allowed his fangs to descend.
She looked up at him with worship in her eyes, tilting her head in
acquiescence as he bit down hard on her exposed neck.
Her fingers crushed his shoulders, her own fangs elongating as he suckled
and licked at the wound he’d made.
The two were becoming
oblivious to the other occupants of the room as they lost themselves in each
other again. Angel’s roar of
anger as he vamped out and rushed at them brought them back to reality.
He was no match for the
pair, though, and they restrained him easily, Buffy laughing at his discomfort
and his pain. This was so much fun!
At Spike’s nod to her
unspoken question, she pushed Angel flat on his back and straddled his waist.
Ripper held on to one clenched fist, Spike the other.
Buffy wriggled in an effort to arouse him, her small, pink tongue darting
out from between her fangs as she leant towards his mouth.
She stopped, inches away; as Spike growled a warning, Buffy flashing her
Sire a sidelong look.
“What’s the matter,
Angel? You don’t like me this
way? I don’t believe you…ah,
there we are…you’re packing some equipment below the belt…pity I have my
own toy…and mine’s a whopper!” She
grinned, delighted at her taunts. Spike
rolled his eyes; her punning abilities hadn’t made the leap from slayer to
vampire.
“Get off of him, honey.
Drusilla…come play with Daddy.”
Drusilla stepped out of
the kitchen, her long dress sweeping the floor.
She knelt beside Angel, cooing softly, “Bad Daddy to run off like that!
Miss Edith was very cross with you.
I had games to play….”
Spike released Angel,
leaving him to Dru’s mad ministrations. He
swept Buffy up into his arms and strode out, needing to get inside her to wipe
from his mind the memory of her almost kissing Angel and his reaction to it.
As Spike and Buffy left,
the sounds of Angel’s anguished screams and Ripper’s maniacal laughter
followed them.
~*~*~*~*~
“He fucking got away?
But you had him at your mercy, Dru?
You gone soft?”
Spike was enraged, kicking
at minions in his way and laying waste to glassware as he rampaged through the
factory.
“He took me by surprise,
my Spike. Daddy’s tricky…he
slipped away through my fingers…”
Drusilla was swaying as
she spoke, lost in the madness of her own mind again.
“Oh I give up, you
stupid bint. Xander, what
happened?”
“He just overpowered
her, Spike. I couldn’t do
anything, he was too strong. And
Ripper was knocked out cold when Angel threw him at the wall.
I tried…”
Spike’s incandescent
fury wasn’t abating. The only way
to work this off was fighting and fucking.
Grabbing Buffy’s hand and dragging her along he set off into the night
to slaughter innocents.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike and Buffy were
becoming obsessed with each other to the exclusion of all else.
Each day was the same; come sunrise the vampire and the former slayer
would roll back into the factory, their bloodlust sated but their lust for each
other out of control. Before the door had closed behind them they were clawing at
each other, clothing ripped away in haste as their need to feel flesh on flesh
overwhelmed their senses.
Tonight was no different.
Drusilla watched from the shadows as the two blondes pawed at each other,
skin flushed from their recent feeding and the waves of arousal assaulting her
senses. She slid further back
against the wall as they passed, cradling Miss Edith to her bony chest and
keening softly as she felt her Spike drifting further away out of her reach.
“Burning baby fishes, all covered with Slayer…my Spike…bad
dog…”
She was rocking herself,
eyes closed, as her mind drifted off in an attempt to block the sound and smell
of her lover fucking her until she
screamed. Her movements were
becoming more frantic, her head shaking from side to side as she hummed along to
her own inner symphony. A
warm hand stroking her cheek stilled her movements.
“Drusilla…shh, shhh
now…don’t fret. Come with
me.”
Blue eyes met green, the
vampire content to be led away by the witch, intrigued by the veiled promise
hidden in her gaze.
“Pretty witch…all
black inside…are your entrails black too?
Can I see them?”
Willow dragged Drusilla
away from the sounds of breaking furniture and rapture, intending to distract
her before she lost control. But as
she caressed the cool skin, her green eyes were eclipsed by black, the
baby-faced innocence replaced by wanton lust as the darkness inside her craved
the kiss of the demon inside the vampire.
She pressed the
dark-haired woman up against the wall, crushing her lips in a bruising kiss and
darting her warm tongue into the cool cavern of her mouth.
Drusilla responded in kind, wrapping her tongue around the warmth and
sucking it further in. Her delicate
hands snaked into Willow’s hair, fingers twirling the silken strands as she
pulled the girl closer against her. It
felt good to be held, even if the body heat and gender was wrong.
But sometimes soft, warm flesh and the swell of a breast felt just a good
under the tongue.
The sounds of frenzied
fucking provided arousing accompaniment to the scene now taking place between
the two females. Willow had
initiated the kiss, but Drusilla was the teacher, Willow very much the student
in this heated embrace. The feel of
another woman’s body pressed against her made her innocent flesh tingle in
places she never even knew existed. Drusilla
drew her cold hand around to the front of the girl’s neck, allowing the skein
of hair she held to fall back to settle on Willow’s shoulder. The redhead gasped, open-mouthed, as desire coursed through
her veins. Slowly she felt the
front of the constraining corset give as Drusilla unhitched the laces, felt the
delicious delirium thrum through her as the vampire’s experienced and oh so
clever hands kneaded and flicked the tender breasts.
As chilled fingers tweaked her nipples to throbbing points, her skin
flushed hot in response.
Willow moaned into her
mentor’s mouth. Drusilla giggled
in response and renewed her attentions to the witch’s ample bosom, while
biting down on the other’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
The demon inside her wanted out, and her fangs lowered as she sucked on
the tender morsel of flesh between her teeth.
She drew back to look into dark and hungry eyes, lapping the remaining
virgin blood from her mouth.
Willow’s chest was
heaving with her efforts to control her breathing and her pale cheeks were
flushed. Licking at her gashed lip,
she held the vampire’s gaze. The
moment stretched until she held out her hand, wanting to take this new
experience further, wanting completion for the ache she felt between her thighs.
Drusilla began to snake out her slender hand – then stilled as she
heard the loud, orgasmic cry of the Slayer.
Suddenly, the assured sexual creature that was initiating Willow into the ways of the Sapphic sisterhood was gone, replaced by the frightened and confused child who took comfort in insanity and dolls. She softly uttered two words, “My Spike.”