New Orleans, 1887
Angelus had brought his family to the States because Spike had stirred up too much trouble in England and France during the past seven years. They had been forced to move.
A few weeks ago, they had come to New Orleans. During this time, Spike had grown more and more distant to his family, up to and including Dru. And that was something Angelus could not accept, not under any circumstance.
Tonight he had followed Spike around the charming city. He had witnessed his feeding off a sweet creole beauty; he had finally spied on his arrival on Bourbon Street. He had watched as Spike had stopped in front of a house and gone around the back. Angelus had observed as Spike had stood in front of the window for hours.
When Spike had finally eased away from the window and headed back toward their lair, Angelus had approached the window. The moonlight made his surroundings visible and ghostly, and helped him to see exactly what Spike had been watching for hours.
Angelus had growled. The moon was enabling him to see a young mortal woman sleeping peacefully in her bed. She looked like a porcelaine doll, thus covered by the wan moonlight. Her eyelids were fluttering lightly in the middle of that delicate face, framed by long brown hair.
He understood what Spike saw in her. She wouldn't make a bad vampire. No, not bad at all, Angelus smiled to himself. Then he headed back to their home, hurrying up. The sun was rising.
---
When Spike woke the next evening, he was startled to find Angelus standing in his room. The younger vampire growled at this intrusion.
"She looks delicious," Angel started.
Spike could not answer. This could not be true. Angelus could not know.
"Yes, I do mean Sarah," the older vampire went on. "And I'm sincere. She'll make a delightful vampiress."
"You didn't--"
"No, I didn't. I want you to do it. Your first Childe."
"I won't," Spike said, getting out of his bed. "And neither will you."
"Are you giving me orders, *William*?" Angelus asked, his eyes going yellow. "Have you forgotten who you are talking to?"
"You're bloody right I'm giving you orders! You had better not touch a hair on Sarah¹s head, or else-"
"Or else what?" Angelus grabbed Spike by the throat and pinned him to the wall. "You cannot stop me, no matter how hard you would like to, Childe."
He suddenly let go of the younger vampire, who fell to the floor. When Spike got up, Angelus was already gone. Spike quickly dressed up and went out into the night, in the direction of Bourbon Street.
---
Sarah was brushing her hair, preparing to go to bed. She suddenly felt eyes upon her. She tried unsuccessfully to relax when she saw that no one but her was reflected in the mirror.
She stood up and turned around. She started unvoluntarily at the sight in front fo her. A tall dark man was standing next to her bed. His eyes were fixed on her, intently, and she felt as if she was burned and stained by those merciless black pupils.
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked the stranger, doing her best to keep calm.
"You are beautiful, Sarah, do you know that?" he asked, eluding her question.
His voice was soft and harsh at the same time. So low that it sent shivers down her spine and made her crave for his embrace as well as his disappearance. She wanted to rush towards him and run away as far as possible from him. She was fascinated as well as terrorised by this beautiful stranger.
"Who are you?" Her voice was trembling as she spoke.
"Do not be afraid, little one," he said again.
He made a step towards her. Sarah was paralysed; as much as she wanted to, she was unable to run or call out for help. He held one of his hands out to her, and she felt drawn to him; she put her small pale hand in his strong one. He pulled her to him, slowly.
"My name is Angelus," he whispered into her ear after turning her around, pulling her back to his chest. "And I am here for you."
Suddenly, the face of a man appeared at the window. His fist broke the panes but he seemed unable to enter her room.
"Please Sarah, let me introduce you to William, dear." Angelus chuckled softly. "I think he would like to be invited in."
"Come in, William," the young woman said softly.
She watched the young man immediately jump through the window into her room.
"Angelus, let her go." His tone was urgent, threatening.
"Why, William! She seems to be enjoying my embrace," Angelus replied, lowering his cheek so that it might come in contact with hers. "Don't you, love?"
"Yes, I do," she softly replied.
His voice was so mesmerizing. She felt as if she could listen to it for hours. She felt so tired, and yet not sleepy. Suddenly, she felt his cheek change form and texture against hers. It was harsher, and it felt disformed.
"Don't look at me, honey, close your eyes," Angelus softly said.
Her eyelids felt heavy and she closed them. She felt two pointed teeth travel along her neck.
"Angelus, don't!" It was William again, his voice now pleading. "Please, I beg you, don't."
Suddenly, the pain in her neck was unbearable. She opened her eyes wide in horror and agony. There was something piercing her neck, and draining her life away from her. This couldn't be happening. It hurt too much! This was impossible... Tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Then the pain was gone, but she felt so weak. So weak and yet unable to close her eyes. It was not fair. She didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. She tried to pray to God for all this to stop, but her mind was unable to form intelligible thoughts. Any comfort was denied to her.
She felt as her body was laid gently on her bed. Her tearless eyes observed the sight of the man who had hurt her so much, this Angelus. His face was distorted by ridges and his eyes yellow; and yet he still possessed that awe-inspiring charm of his. His face changed back to that of the handsome man. She heard his voice again.
"Come on, William, you are not going to let her die here," he seemed to be teasing the other man. "Come, turn her. No love for any mortal will be tolerated under my roof, you should have known that."
"I won't turn her, Angelus, I already told you." His voice sounded tainted by regrets and sorrow. "And my name is Spike." Then she heard him step closer to her. She felt him kiss her forehead. "I am sorry, Sarah."
She heard Angelus growl, and then she guessed it was William whom she heard jump out of the window. He had let her alone with this monster. The door to her room opened.
"Miss Sarah, mistress wants to - oh my God."
Sarah had recognised the voice of Martha, her old black nurse. The last sound she heard was the snap of her neck. The two women died at the same time.
Spike felt her die. A single blood tear ran down
his right cheek. He hastily wiped it away as he arrived at their home.
Neither Angelus, nor himself, ever talked about this again. The younger
vampire had managed to put it past him, with the years, the decades.