16. Spike

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The room was in a shambles. If it were breakable, he probably had broken it. The only thing standing largely intact was the bed, in which they now lazed. Angelus, his ubiquitous drink in hand, leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. Darla leaned against his shoulder and grabbed the drink from him. She took a sip, shivered in disgust, and handed the glass back. "After all these years, I still cannot fathom how you drink that. Give me a good glass of wine any day but whiskey turns my stomach."

He drank the rest of the liquid in one swallow and put the glass on the floor since the nightstand was in pieces. "Feeling better now, I see. Drusilla's little vision seems less important?"

She pulled away from him when he tried to put his arms around her. She pulled her robe from the floor then paused. "It's still coming. Her vision merely showed me the veracity of my own thoughts on the matter." She stood and put on the robe. "I hope we have put it off for some time by giving him some freedom but it will come to a fight between you two at some point, of that I am certain."

**********

They left the residential districts and moved into an area filled with brothels and taverns. William wondered where Drusilla was leading them. What kind of a party could she mean to throw? Drusilla gripped Cecily's arm firmly, pulling her along as they went. He saw Cecily look to him several times, as if pleading for his help. He ignored her and focused instead on the back of Drusilla's raven head.

Cecily's silent pleas turned to vocal ones when they reached a very bad portion of town. "Please, William. Lucinda was waiting for me and must be so worried. Why bring me here? Please, let me go."

Drusilla moved to where Cecily could see her face and stopped walking. "Naughty girl, trying to work my William against me." She grinned. "Won't work. He knows what you must see to move to your next plane. You will learn to serve it hot or cold, although cold is often best."

Cecily's eyes widened in confusion. "Serve what?"

At Drusilla's urging, William tied Cecily's hands behind her back while Drusilla laughed. "Yours will be the work of angels, a wrath most appealing." The gag placed in Cecily's open mouth silenced any further question.

**********

Five well-dressed men sat at the table, laughter ringing loud in the small tavern. They were the only patrons there that night, having paid a heftier sum than the owner normally saw in a month of business in order to have their private party. The reason for the party was already three sheets to the wind, barely able to keep himself upright in his chair. One of his mates, a red headed fellow named Edward, noticed Jonathon weaving in his seat. "Watch it, boys. I think the groom is going to become sick."

Jonathon righted himself and took deep breaths until the color returned to his cheeks. "Not just yet. I think I need another pint for that to happen." Everyone at the table laughed again.

Patrick, the oldest in the group, pounded a fist on the table. "Barmaid! Another round of stout."

Jonathon spoke to the man sitting next to him. "James, can you help me with this next drink? I don't seem able to lift my arms." This peal of laughter came out even louder than the rest.

Richard, always impatient, asked, "Where is that barmaid?" The thud on the table in front of him was greeted by silence from the entire group. None could believe their own eyes. Blood, seeping out of the barmaid's jaggedly severed head, ran over the table and onto Richard's lap. He jumped out of the chair to avoid it.

All their heads turned toward the bar at the sound of childlike giggles. "Silly girl lost her head over you. Her cards counted out such romance." Drusilla pushed the bound and gagged Cecily to a sitting position atop the prone corpse of the bar's owner. "Boxed seats for the lady for a premiere. Aren't you the lucky one?" The tears running down her face accompanied Cecily's muffled cries.

Richard finally found his voice again, even though it came out strangled and small. "Cecily? Let her go."

A large snapping noise came from the table. All eyes left Cecily and turned to the newcomer. He stood behind Jonathon, whose corpse slid to the ground, neck broken. "Feeling brave tonight, Richard? Just how hard will you fight to spare her?"

Drusilla moved to stand next to William, eyes shining with delight. "I know this is your party but I want the red one, please?" Edward started to quake.

William ran a hand through Drusilla's hair. "Of course, pet. I only want him." He gestured absentmindedly at Richard. "First, we need to rid ourselves of the excess." The screaming started as both of their demons came to the front.

Patrick and James, disposed of in much the same way as Jonathon, joined the growing number of bodies on the floor. Edward attempted to flee to no avail. Drusilla caught him and sank her fangs into his neck with a feral growl.

Richard spared one last look at Cecily, as if deciding whether or not to attempt a rescue, before running for the door. William caught him by the hair just before his outstretched hand could reach the handle. "I guess you're not so brave, after all."

Richard lost his footing and fell to the ground only to be dragged by the hair back to the chair he had vacated. William pressed him into the seat. "Now, stay there like a good boy." William spoke to Drusilla. "Pet, see if there are some knives behind the bar, would you? I need something to keep him still."

She dropped the body and ran to the bar. There were knives sitting on the counter next to the bread. She wiped them off on her skirt on the way back to the table. She held them up to the light. "Oh. They sparkle." She held them out for William.

He took one and placed Richard's hand flat against the table. The knife sunk through the hand and into the table, pinning the hand in place. Richard screamed. "Bloody Hell!"

William clucked his tongue at the quivering man. "Such vulgar words for you, Richard. You usually try so hard to appear the gentleman." The second knife pinned Richard's other hand in the same manner. William pulled the spike out of his pocket so that Richard could see it. "I seem to remember you stating a preference with regards to my poetry not too long ago. What was it?"

Richard cried. "Please, let me go."

William laughed. "No. That was definitely not what you said. Let us see if we can remind you." He held the end of the spike against Richard's ear. "Should I recite something for you?"

Richard pleaded again. "Don't do this, please, William."

William was uncaring. "My saying 'please don't' never stopped you, did it?" He shoved the spike home with a wide smile. "There, now. I feel better. Don't you?" He pulled the spike back out and turned to Drusilla to show it to her. "I think I like this new toy."

She put her arms around him and lay her head against his chest. "Naughty William," she said with a smile. "My naughty, wicked, Spike. How do you feel?"

He pulled her face up to meet his. "I feel marvelous, pet. I feel bloody marvelous."

**********

TBC in the sequel, "A Master Himself", wherein the power struggle between Angelus and William aka Spike heats up. I'm also writing a side story, "Born Into Vengeance" wherein we get a glimpse of what happened to Cecily after that night.

*Anyone want the sequel? Feed the review beast to tell me you're interested. The more yea votes, the faster the sequel arrives. Same goes for the side story about Cecily aka Halfrek.*

- Deathtramp