Title: BRAVE EYES
Author: psimetis
E-mail: psimetis@hotmail.com
Spoilers: Season 3, then AU
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: vampireW/T
Characters: Vampire Willow, Tara, Amy, Jenny Calendar, Darla, Cordelia, Buffy,
Giles, Angel, Spike, Drusilla, Faith, Jonathan, Andrew, Michael, Anyanka
Summary: Wishverse; VWillow survives the factory massacre, and so does Buffy.
A tale of who owns the Night, who can take it away, and who can take it back.
(not Beta'd)
Sober Warnings: Dark Buffy. Kidnapping. Torture. Rape.
Sex Warnings: Angel tongue.
1/?
* * *
BRAVE EYES
Nothing could hurt her worse than home, she had thought. She decided to take
her chances with the dark. When the U.C. Sunnydale acceptance papers came in,
she packed immediately. She accessed her free email account from her town library’s
only computer. She wrote the coven she had been in touch with, who watched the
Hellmouth.
I’m coming, she said.
* * *
Were Hellmouths meant for deceptively beautiful places? By day, Sunnydale seemed
so unassumingly ordinary, yet Tara Maclay knew of what evil and hurt such benign
facades concealed. In her own small, quiet town, there was anger and fists at
night, and bruises disguised by day. The ones who secretly fought the dark in
Sunnydale held too much knowledge in their auras. She met Amy from the coven,
and for a girl still in high school she had very old eyes.
“You so do not have demon vibes,” she told Tara.
The coven’s head witch said the same thing. They even did a cast on her,
finally dispelling any more belief that Tara still held in her own family’s
cruel legend; that the Maclay women had ‘demon’ in them, that’s
why they could do their magic. That the demon within the Maclay women was evil
and needed to be beaten out and controlled.
“Sorry you had to come to the Hellmouth to find out the truth,” the
head witch had told her. Tara had sensed the ancient lines of gypsy blood in
the brunette woman; they were weak magical ties, but Jenny Calendar was head
of the coven for her bravery, intelligence, and ability to lead, not for her
level of power. “You’re human, you’re not evil, and you don’t
belong where it’s not safe.”
But Tara’s immediate future was already tied to this dangerous town. She
had accepted the scholarship, she had no where else to go. This was still better
than where she had come from, a girl feared and hated for being a witch and
for loving other women.
She would take her chances here.
One day, she heard from Amy how the people who fought the dark--the White Hats--had
finally scored an incredible victory. The latest Slayer had killed the Master
of the Aurelius vampires, and survived.
“There are still some very dangerous vampires left,” Jenny had warned
her coven. “They’re masterless now, and roaming. Keep your guard up.”
Tara never left her dorm room at night.
* * *
‘NIGHT’
When Willow died under her best friend’s fangs and was turned, she woke
up to a perfect world. She was a demon, she was a killer, and she was of the
ruling class. The nights were filled with so much fear, so much blood, and such
violent pastimes. She was a princess of the death world.
And she was often bored, strangely enough, which she understood was the irony
of being so elevated in this privileged, dark world her Xander had invited her
into. But she knew no other ways to preoccupy herself, so she served her Master,
and loved her dear Xander, and played with her Puppy, whenever the Master deemed
her worthy of ‘Puppy-time’. Unlife was good.
Then she was summoned against her will into another universe, and met her duplicate
self--as an icky, sweet human. The experience was an eye opener to say the least,
even when she wanted to forget the whole surreal event and just continue to
live unlife as she knew it. The world of the Master’s making was her reality,
and she clung to it. She was very relieved when she was sent back to her own
world.
When things fell apart however, Willow had to sourly wonder if she had become
too dependent on that ‘known world’. Thanks to the rather scary Slayer,
the Master was gone, her Xander was gone, and even her Puppy was gone, taken
by the Slayer as a trophy. Willow herself barely survived the massacre at the
factory.
“I can do this,” she assured herself as she hid in an abandoned house
she had angrily emptied of lesser vampires. “I can do alone.”
She ran into Darla one night while out hunting. The elder vampire was still
very weak from her torture and captivity under her Master, who blamed her for
the embarrassment that was Puppy, her only childe. The one time favorite of
the Master had a human companion with her. They were boarding a car, apparently
in a hurry to leave town.
“Get back,” the pretty human had threatened, holding up a huge, wood
cross even as she held up Darla in one embracing arm. Willow recognized the
girl, a human she and Xander had known since childhood.
“Our world’s no fun anymore,” Willow pouted, wishing for her
chance to kill the human bitch who used to make fun of her and Xander when they
too, had been human. She heard Darla laugh at her, from cracked lips.
“Childe,” Darla spoke, in those drawling, patrician tones Willow hated,
because it made Darla sound so much older and wiser than the much younger vampire,
which Darla was. “Our world is always changing. Change with it,
little one, or you’ll never have a chance to grow as old as I.”
Willow had wanted to snipe about how pathetic of Darla to talk, when her unlife
was obviously being saved by some lowly human, but instead she frowned pensively.
She watched as the elder vampire was placed quickly and safely within the confines
of the car by the human, Cordelia, and then driven away.
Leaving Willow once again, alone.
* * *
“I really need that book,” Megan had told her over the phone. The
other girl was also in the coven, but Tara still didn’t like the idea of
walking out at night, even to meet her. “My dorm is not far from yours.
I’ll meet you halfway.”
Tara finally relented. She gathered her magic around her, placed a stake in
her loose, sweater sleeve, picked up the book needed, and left her room.
Tara used to like walking at night, at least back home. She could see the stars,
feel the cool air, and enjoy the quiet and peace night brought. In Sunnydale,
walking at night was a true luxury--the payment given for the privilege could
easily be one’s life. She saw Megan waiting beneath a lone lamp light on
the campus path, half way to Tara’s dorm building, as she said she would
be.
Tara did not have to approach too closely to know that something was very wrong.
“Wow, you really do have some of the Sight, don’t you,” Megan
laughed at her, far too pale and cold eyed to be the girl Tara once knew. The
newly turned vampire immediately recognized when Tara had sensed her difference.
“I ate Sara by the way,” the vampire added, referring to her once
fellow witch and roommate. “Magic blood is amazing. I figure yours will
be just as good.”
Tara turned to run.
“No way,” Megan exclaimed as she set up a magical barrier to impede
the blonde girl. The entirety of the vampire’s eyes was black as dead coals.
“Show me what you got, Tara. Now that I’m a demon, I have full access
to the dark magic of the Hellmouth. It’s a total rush.”
Tara whispered words, removed the stake from her sleeve, and sent it flying.
Megan mentally smacked the stake down with a hard glance. She laughed. Tara
set up a sudden, magical dust cloud. Megan made gestures to dispel the smoke.
“God, you really are useless!” the vampire sneered. “Amy was
always telling you, ‘use the black, use the black!’, but nooo, you
had to be all goody two shoes and stick with your mommie’s white magic.
Now see where it’s got y--”
Megan barely slapped away the stake that nearly skewered her under the cover
of Tara’s dust cloud spell. She snarled in fear and surprise at being so
nearly nailed by the white witch. Megan’s eyes switched from black to demonic
yellow. She leapt for Tara.
Willow watched passively from the cover of trees as the soft, blonde, witch
girl went down hard. The fledgling gleefully hit the girl’s face. Willow
stepped away from the trees.
Megan crowed and raised her fist again. A nose breakage was definitely in order
for Goody Tara. She felt her wrist caught in a crushing grip and her arm suddenly
snapped back, wrenching it from the socket. She screamed and fell back.
A slim, red haired vampire stood above her, glaring with green-eyed calm.
“Mine now,” was all she said in a soft, menacing voice that broached
no dissent.
Megan screamed again, eyes black, and raised her good hand quickly to cast.
Willow knew a little bit about fighting magic people. Just a little, since there
was a coven on the Hellmouth, and a wandering vampire couldn’t help meeting
at least one of those witches. The only thing she knew about fighting magic
people was this: a vampire had to be faster.
Megan looked down in shock at the red haired vampire’s arm, suddenly deep
in the hole punched into her chest. When the other vampire ripped out her undead
heart and crushed it before her eyes, she felt herself rendered into dust.
Willow turned her attention to her blonde prey.
The girl had rolled to her hands and knees but apparently had trouble gaining
her feet. Willow grabbed the witch’s shoulder and shoved her to her back
again.
Glazed, blue eyes stared up at her, startled, as deliciously scented blood seeped
from a bruised mouth.
“Good,” Willow merely said, very much liking the pretty face before
her. She’d never had magic blood before. It irritated her that a newborn
fledge had discovered the enjoyment of such blood before she’d had the
pleasure herself. Well now Willow will find out exactly what the fledge had
been yammering about. She grabbed the girl into her arms and pulled on her blonde
tresses just so, baring her white throat.
“Sendus, Sec--” she saw the girl’s bloodied lips desperately
say.
“Ah ah,” Willow gently admonished, stifling the magic words with her
blood soaked hand. She felt the girl’s startled scream beneath her firm,
sticky palm. “Biting now.”
And she bared her fangs, swiftly sinking them into the soft, virgin skin, and
did just that.
The hot liquid that filled her mouth was glorious.
She had never experienced such a rich, intoxicating taste before. She moaned
as she sucked in more.
She pressed further into the girl in her arms, feeling the soft give of curves
and breasts against her body. She smelled the witch’s magic scented skin,
and felt her sobs and hot tears on her hand.
Willow tore her mouth away from the warm throat suddenly, her chest heaving.
She only breathed when she and Xander connected in incredible sex. Drinking
this girl’s blood was just like that. Willow rested her ridged forehead
on the girl’s wet cheek for a moment, drunk on the sensations. She returned
her mouth’s attentions to the neck wound, laving it closed. She ran her
lips over the girl’s face and mouth. She slowly licked up all the blood
stains on the girl’s skin that her bloodied hand had made. She lapped at
the girl’s bruised lips like a cat. She did not want such pleasure to end.
“Where’s your room,” Willow demanded in a fierce whisper. She
wanted more games with the weakened girl in her arms.
“Tell me,” Willow threatened softly, when the girl did not immediately
reply. “Or...” Willow could hear the sounds of people’s voices
approaching, further down the path. She smiled, even though she knew the witch
was too weak to properly see it. “I kill whoever’s coming down that
walkway.”
“Stevenson Hall,” the girl managed to whisper, without hesitation.
Willow gathered the blonde quickly into her arms, then paused before lifting
her. She frowned as she caught sight of the book that had been dropped. It looked
like a magic book. Curiosity got the better of the vampire. She settled the
girl down to grab the book, then set off with her in her arms again.
“Which room,” the vampire tersely demanded, as she entered the correct
building.
“T-Two twenty-seven,” she heard the girl answer. Willow smiled as
she mounted the steps for the correct floor. She liked this human’s obedience.
The real test would come at the door, however.
She found the girl’s keys in her skirt pocket, and set her human against
the wall near the door. The book fell with a thud to the floor. She unlocked
the door and pushed it open, her fingers hitting the invisible barrier. Willow
then grabbed the girl by the back of the head and pulled her close to her as
they stood at the entrance.
“Invite me in, and no tricks,” Willow murmured close to the girl’s
cheek, making sure she held tight. She was not about to let this delicious human
escape her and find safety within her dorm room. The girl, interestingly enough,
chose that moment to be silent. Willow gave the witch a shake, enjoying how
her blue eyes suddenly shut in pain.
“Invite me in, or I break your fingers, one by one,” Willow softly
informed, lifting a stiff hand of the witch’s with her free one. She emphasized
her point by gently caressing the girl’s ring finger. “You’ll
scream while I’m doing it, I’m sure. And then some stupid somebody
will come out of their room, all curious. And then me having to go grrr and
kill them. It’ll be all your fault you know,” she said sweetly, giving
the slender finger a kiss. Then she put it in her wet mouth, withdrawing it
slowly as the girl shuddered in her grip. “Just cos you won’t let
me in.”
“D-Don’t kill anyone,” the girl pleaded in her arms. “A-And
I’ll do want you want.”
Willow paused in her attention to the pretty fingers, incredulous.
“You’re in no position to make demands,” the vampire chided,
gazing with admonishing, wide eyes.
“Th-Then break them,” the girl answered, to Willow’s further
astonishment. “I won’t scream.” And the vampire saw a sadness
dwelling deep within the pools of blue that stared back at her, a sadness obviously
placed there long before Willow’s own cruel touch.
It would take extra effort, Willow realized, to break this deceptively soft
girl before she really would scream...loud.
And she needed this girl intact if she wanted to enjoy herself further tonight,
the vampire added pensively to herself.
“Done,” the red haired demon agreed with a small, cold smile. “No
killing. Of other people.” The girl was smart, she would get the vampire’s
exact meaning. By the resignation in those sad eyes, it was obvious that the
witch did.
“Come in,” the girl whispered. Willow held her human roughly to her
and did so.
The vampire did not bother to switch on the light. This was a witch’s room,
and Willow very well knew she was walking into something that could hold all
manner of objects that could get her undead self dusted, and quickly. She kicked
the door shut to increase the darkness. Keeping the girl disorientated was good.
A quick smack to that pretty face as Willow tossed her back on her bed helped
even more. As the witch cowered from possibly more blows she couldn’t see,
Willow mounted the bed quickly and straddled her victim.
“Let’s make another deal,” the vampire breathed, delighting at
the fear emanating from the warm, soft body beneath her. She gently took hold
of the arms that had risen protectively to cover the witch’s head and pulled
them slowly, firmly down. “You don’t try to kill me, I won’t
kill you.”
The large, blue eyes Willow was becoming quite fond of viewing, stared confusingly
and vaguely in her direction, in the room’s pitch black.
“Let’s not ruin our fun, all right?” the vampire explained, amused.
“So no fighting me, and I won’t kill you.”
“Th-That’s not much of a bargain,” the girl beneath her actually
replied, bitterness evident in her pretty, shaking voice. “I-It depends
on h-how you leave me.”
For the second time tonight, Willow genuinely smiled. Such a smart girl this
one was. Willow could easily leave her here when the night’s fun was over--broken,
crippled...dying. It really wasn’t much of deal she was offering, truthfully.
“Want to have fun with you,” Willow cajoled softly, rubbing her pelvis
against the girl’s, making the witch gasp. “Play nice with me, and...”
Her hand found the witch’s soft, generous breast, palming its weight through
the sweater the girl wore. Willow was terribly pleased with the fleshy handful
she had found. “...I’ll play nice with you.”
Those brave eyes looked up again, searching where the vampire’s face might
be.
“C-Can you play nice?” came the soft question, tentatively from the
bruised mouth.
“Of course,” Willow answered with a little snort. “And if you
don’t like my ‘nice’, I’ll slap you.”
She saw the girl swallow, as she stared blindly in her direction. The vampire
then felt warm hands touch her gently along the leather of her corseted sides.
Willow smiled.
“Good,” she breathed, as she felt the hands touch more firmly, a thumb
brushing knowingly at her covered nipple. “Good.”
* * *
Having a snack at the girl’s inner thigh, Willow thought, was perhaps pushing
the whole ‘we’ll play nice’ agreement, but really, with the successful
pleasure brought from two fingers in the yielding wetness of the girl’s
sex, and an insistent thumb helpfully pushing the pliant witch over the blissful
edge, the vampire could certainly be forgiven for taking another tempting bite.
The girl passed out from the blood loss of course, so she couldn’t complain,
or retaliate, by finding something woodish to stake Willow’s back with.
Willow happily licked at the new bite mark made, and cleaned her witch’s
wet, soft folds as well. Finally she sat up, assessing her current situation.
She felt utterly sated, blood-wise, and fuck-wise, thank you very much. Willow
was now very glad she didn’t break the witch’s fingers.
She looked down at her unconscious bed companion, bemused.
“This will be the first time I’ve left one of you alive, you know,”
she said thoughtfully to the exhausted face, as she idly smoothed back the strands
of blonde hair. Willow reached for the bedside lamp to finally see her human
properly.
With the light on, Willow had to admit, the girl was still very pretty.
“I think I’ll keep you,” the vampire finally breathed, satisfied
with the rather strange decision. She was getting maybe just an inkling of what
kind of novel arrangement Darla might be having with her human. Willow would
like to think that Cordelia was right now some rotting corpse on the side of
the highway between here and L.A., but the young vampire was certain that was
the wrong assumption. No, Cordelia was probably still very much alive, still
shopping, still being a bitch, and probably still feeding and pleasuring Darla.
And that, in Willow’s mind, made Darla a very wise vampire, indeed.
* * *
When Tara awoke, her eyelids heavy with an insistent, dull headache behind them,
she felt the vampire’s body snug against her.
Tara was lying on her side, and the vampire was seated, her back against the
witch’s soft middle, reading a book in her naked lap. As the vampire read,
she had a hand at the blonde’s temple, her thumb slowly rubbing a circle.
It soothed her headache, Tara realized.
The young witch tried to swallow, and found her throat very dry.
To her surprise, the vampire’s hand left her head and reached for a carton
of vending machine orange juice, condensation already gathering on its cool
sides. A straw was poked into it. The vampire only briefly looked at her as
she helpfully placed the drink near the witch’s lips.
Tara hesitantly took the straw into her mouth and quietly sucked.
When she was done, the vampire placed the carton on the bedside table again.
“Did you know that vampires used to live with covens?” she heard the
red haired demon say to her conversationally, as she returned her attention
to the book in her lap. A cool hand rested on her head once more, the thumb
rubbing gently at her temple. “I wonder why that was.”
Tara realized that the vampire was reading The History of Witches, which
was the book Megan had insisted Tara lend her last night.
* * *
‘DARK’
“And how long has this been going on?” Jenny said to Tara from her
teacher’s desk, her head in her hands.
“Th-Three nights,” Tara stammered, as Amy looked at her with incredulous
eyes, arms folded. “I was a bit out of it a-after the first night,”
Tara admitted, trying not to wince at the disapproval and disappointment she
was sensing. “A-And it seemed s-so hard to explain, just over the phone.”
She fretted slightly, looking down finally. She no longer felt able to face
her coven friends. “A-And I hardly understand it, myself,” she whispered.
Amy sighed. “She saves you from Megan,” the dark haired witch finally
assessed, deciding to see the situation from a more business-type angle, since
Tara was noticeably upset by their attitude--and who wouldn’t have such
an attitude, Amy thought briefly to herself, bitterly. “And decides not
to torture you and eat you. Apparently she’s interested in the magic, because
she wants you to teach her.” At this, Tara nodded. “And apparently
she hasn’t been out hunting and killing all that much because she’s
at your place reading books and trying to float a pencil.” Tara nodded
again. “God, you’re so naive, Tara,” Amy exclaimed, throwing
up her hands.
“Tara,” Jenny added wearily. “You tell us this, but you don’t
want us to help you stake her. And I know you can levitate wood with the best
of us. You must have had plenty of opportunity to dust Willow yourself, by now.”
Tara only looked at the floor, letting her hair fall before her, feeling ashamed.
“When her infatuation wears off, she’ll just kill you,” Jenny
finally stated with a resigned tone that sounded alarmingly depressed.
“Or maybe not,” Amy shrugged. “It is Willow. If she’s got
the magic bug up her butt, she’ll read enough books to forget she was going
to kill Tara.”
“H-How do you...” Tara queried tentatively, not understanding how
Amy could assume such a thing.
“We both knew Willow when she was alive,” Amy supplied, as Jenny looked
thoughtful. “She was a genius. And god, as a vampire? Really bored now
without any real challenges except eating and killing people. I blame her sire,
Xander.”
“If you make it through the week intact and Willow’s still enamored
of magic, I want you to bring her to meet me,” Jenny suddenly stated. “I
am head of the local coven after all. If she really is interested in learning
magic, she’ll have to see me.”
Amy gaped. “Jenny,” she exclaimed. “Megan ate Sara and nearly
killed Tara as an evil witch-pire. Who knows what Willow will do if she learns
magic--she could kill us all, open the Hellmouth, destroy the world--”
“And she could learn magic anyway without our stepping in,” Jenny
interrupted. “This way, we can influence her.”
“Or she can be dust and we don’t have to step in or do anything!”
Amy retorted.
“I’m tired of death,” Jenny then snapped out, utter weariness
in her being. “This is an ageless battle, and you know it. We can keep
killing and hating, like the new Slayer is doing, or we can try something new.
Tara never followed our way of doing things since she came here, and she’s
managed to tame a vampire, her way. It’s worth a shot.”
Amy looked carefully at her tired mentor, realizing where her teacher was coming
from.
“I kinda don’t want to end up like Buffy either,” Amy finally
said, catching Jenny’s dark eyes. “If I do, my new wardrobe would
be a black hood and a guillotine.” Amy was relieved to see Jenny smile
at that.
Tara wasn’t sure if she was following the gist of the present conversation
at all. The little she understood made her cold.
“W-What’s going on?” Tara asked quietly.
“Something that I was going to inform our coven and the magic community
at large about,” Jenny said gravely. “The present Slayer is very...conservative.
She’ll kill anything demon, even the peaceful ones. We’re hardly in
good standing either, being witches.”
“Oz,” Tara whispered, afraid of the answer.
“Went to L.A.,” Amy assured.
“There’s also the matter of some big vampire players moving into town,
because of the power vacuum left from the Master’s death,” Jenny added,
as she leaned back in her teacher’s chair. “Some self-proclaimed ‘Anointed
One’ just arrived, and some members of Darla’s family, Spike and Drusilla.
“So you can see,” Jenny continued, looking at Tara. “That things
are going to be busy, and the coven’s main concern is just keeping that
damned Hellmouth shut. We don’t have the time and resources to keep an
eye on you and your ‘experiment’ with Willow. All I can say is, keep
yourself alive until the end of the week.”
“Or tell her to leave town,” Amy suggested. “Before Fascist Buffy
gets her.”
Tara looked at her coven friends and didn’t know what to say.
* * *
Willow liked it in her witch’s comfortable, dorm room. There was warmth,
there was stuff to read, and there was safety. It certainly beat having to hide
in a rundown, abandoned house where the scary Slayer could easily find her,
especially in her sleep. The witch’s dorm room was a much appreciated safe
haven in Willow’s current unlife.
She was also liking the magic thing, which felt more substantial and satisfying
than forming gangs and taking over clubs, like her last attempt in that alternative
world she got dragged into. Willow’s brief foray into conquest and domination
nearly ended with that reality’s Slayer practically staking her in the
back. If it hadn’t been for her fuzzy other self, Willow would have been
dust. Witnessing Xander and the Master become dust under the stake of the scarier
version of that other world Slayer had certainly given Willow sober pause. She
might be a very young vampire, but she can learn from her experiences. World
domination was really not an easy game.
One thing she did learn in the other world that was certainly intriguing, rather
than plain sobering, was the fact that her fuzzy other self had been into magic,
and if Fuzzy could do it, then Willow could too.
So the vampire contented herself with her new existence as a magic learner,
snacked on the occasional student, snacked especially on her pretty witch, had
lots of nice ‘play times’ with said pretty witch, and basically ignored
the new, evil-come-latelys making their noisy splashes in what was once her
town.
Willow really had better things to do.
* * *
Tara watched as the vampire carefully floated the pencil back down with her
mind. Tara clapped.
“Yay!” she praised, her pride evident at her vampire’s accomplishment.
“Well done!”
“I did it in three weeks!” Willow declared proudly. “I’m
a fast beginner!”
“You are,” Tara affirmed. Impulsively, she hugged the demon. It was
something new for them, the demonstrative display, but Willow was learning to
tolerate it. She no longer got that wide eyed, surprised look at such affection.
However, she still retained that mischievous desire to grope Tara.
“Hands!” Tara squeaked, pulling away.
“Your meditations must really be working, for you to achieve this much
control,” Tara finally commented, this time from a more safe distance from
Willow’s hands.
“Magic is about control,” Willow simply recited. “Will Jenny
see me this week? Now that I’ve mastered the pencil test?”
“I hope so,” Tara said. “Now that the Slayer’s gotten rid
of the Anointed One, Jenny might have time. Spike and Drusilla don’t seem
to be interested in the Hellmouth at all, they just want Angel.”
“Puppy,” Willow said wistfully, with the slightest pout.
“I’m going to make sure Jenny sees you this time,” Tara promised
with a smile. Willow liked that smile of her witch’s, so lopsided. It made
the vampire smile back. She had good cause to smile alot lately, the vampire
realized. And it didn’t all have to do with death and destruction.
“It’s dusk,” Willow announced. “I’m going hunting.”
She got up quickly, eager to work off energy. Witchcraft tended to be so internal.
“Stay close to campus,” Tara warned after the vampire, even as the
door shut behind her.
* * *
The co-ed running away from Willow was no problem; it was a nice bit of exercise.
“All I’m asking for,” the vampire called after the student, as
she ran. “Is a little donation. I’m not going to kill you. Although,
if you keep running farther away from the dorms I may get cross. I’ll have
to carry you back, you know. For your safety and all that goodie crap.”
The young woman ran towards the edge of the woods--like a dummy, Willow thought--and
then was swooped into another female vampire’s arms.
“Oh shit,” Willow commented, as the girl was swiftly eaten by the
other vampire. She hoped that girl hadn’t been a friend of her witch’s.
As the corpse was dropped, Willow curiously approached. Since the destruction
of her Master’s Order, it had been a while since she had sensed a vampire
as old as this one. The dark haired vampire smiled wolfishly at her, slim and
swaying slightly in her gown-like dress.
“How’s Grandmummy?” the elder vampire inquired, with a lilting,
mocking accent and a demented gleam in her eyes.
Well that confirms it, Willow thought, as she noted the madness in the elder’s
demeanor with some fascination. This one must be Drusilla, one of the Scourge.
“I dunno,” Willow simply replied. “She was so poorly last time
I saw.” The older vampire snickered at that.
“I am too,” Drusilla sighed, tilting her head as she gazed dreamily
at Willow. The moonlight revealed the scars on her face which, Willow had heard,
she had received from an angry mob in Prague. “And Daddy was too. And soon
now you.”
Willow stiffened a little at that. Drusilla was a prophetess.
“What do you mean,” she hissed at the elder vampire. The dark haired
one merely placed a black, nail polished finger to her lips.
“Shh,” she cautioned. “She comes. All bitter, painful ash. Best
you run, little one.”
And then Drusilla was gone, and left in place of her tingling presence was the
alarming, frightening tingle of another.
Willow whirled around. The odd thunk the dart made in the leather of her bodice
was a very strange sound, the red haired vampire thought, even as she began
to lose her balance.
“Bitch,” she spat in disconcerted dismay at the loopy vision the Slayer
made, standing with a rifle casually shouldered. Willow fell down.
And everything went black.
* * *
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