Global Disclaimer: All BtVS characters belong to FOX and the marvelous Mr. Joss Whedon. This story is for entertainment purposes only. The author intends neither profit nor defamation herein. This is just for fun and frolic, folks.

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A/N: Hi there. I know it's been a while but yes, I am still writing stories. This is the second installment in my "If Wishes Were Horses" series. You may want to read that first story before reading this one. (It'll make more sense that way.) This story was pulled down, by me, and is now being reposted. I lost all my feedback on it so please, be generous.

Summary: After Angelus' death in the Wish-Verse, Spike needs an alternative cure for his beloved Drusilla. Does Dalton really have the answer?
 
 

Chapter 1 - A New Start
 

They arrived back at the mansion just before sunset, one of Drusilla's bouts of illness having slowed their pace considerably. Spike, however, refused to let his state of hopefulness falter. Two steps inside the front door, he began issuing orders. "Dru, go get some rest. You're tired and the two of us can sort this out while you sleep." He smiled sadly when he realized she wasn't even going to argue. When she was well again, Drusilla would take orders from nobody. He would see to that even if it meant the dusty end of him.

Drusilla kissed his cheek affectionately and started up the stairs. "Miss Edith doesn't wish to sleep but Mummy says she must because she'll need her strength for the journey. She'll sleep so much better if you wish her good dreams." She looked back at Spike. "She hates to travel anymore, poor girl." Drusilla's voice faded away at the end of the last sentence because she rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and moved out of sight.

Spike watched the stairs after she disappeared, reassuring himself that she had made it to the bedroom all right. He whispered after her, "Sweet dreams, kitten." Shaking his head to clear it, he turned around to face Dalton. "She seems to think we'll be traveling again soon, huh? That must be a good sign that we'll meet with success." He wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince Dalton or himself. "Now then, show me the original and the alternate translation you mentioned."

Dalton led the way into the living room, where his papers still lay strewn across the coffee table. "It's quite simple, really. Well, at least I think it is, Master Spike. You see." He pointed at the original spell. "This word is the one I interpreted as Sire but it could have also been read as ancestor. All we should need is to capture the Master and substitute him into the ceremony in the place of her Sire. It should work all the same, otherwise. Provided everything else is translated correctly, that is." Dalton smiled nervously and pushed his unnecessary spectacles back up onto his nose.

Spike had only one answer to give. "It had better be, Dalton. It had better be."

Drusilla started muttering incoherent words the moment Spike opened the door to their bedroom, sensing his arrival, as usual. As he got closer to the bed, the words became clearer. "I've always wanted to see Chicago." She sat up, instantly awake, the second his weight joined hers on the heavy mattress. "There you are, my Spike. Miss Edith wanted to wait up for you but we must have fallen to sleep anyway."

"That's alright, pet." Spike answered as she lay back down to rest her head on his chest.

Drusilla fiddled absentmindedly with the blanket that covered them. "Can we go see one of the 'Speak Easies' while we're there? I can already feel the music."

He grabbed her hand to still it when it moved from the blanket to tickle his skin lightly. "We'll have other music, then. There aren't any Speak Easies in Sunnydale, just the old club where Heinrich set up shop."

"No." She said petulantly. "You're not listening." She moved to whisper in his ear. "Get in the balloon, pet. We're going round the world." Her voice returned to its usual volume. "Do they still have mobsters in Chicago?"

"Mobsters?" Spike laughed. "All the big ones have gone along now years ago. We should have hit Chicago that first time we came to America if you wanted to see the mobsters. Why all the interest in Chicago, anyway? Is that where you want to head once we've finished up here?"

Drusilla reached a hand up, snatching at the air as if attempting to catch something above her. "The fairies sing to me today, Spike. They sing an awful tune, flat like crushed petals. I don't want to go where they send me but the brass ring is headed to a new carousel."

Spike's hope evaporated as dew does in the morning sun. "Heinrich." Spike sighed. "Why would he leave? I thought you said he won the battle, took the slayer down for the count."

"Yes." She said. "Now he wishes to wage the war. We must follow his falling star to find the battlefield."

The noises of the factory drifted into the night sky, screams that died suddenly one after another. The success of the Master of Aurelius' business venture stood as a clean indication of his renewed power.

The trio stood near the entrance unrecognized and virtually unnoticed by their fellow demons near enough to see them. In truth, it would hardly have mattered had they been recognized for the only one who would want them gone was nowhere to be seen. Spike and Dalton had searched the entire building. The Master was gone.

Chapter 2 - Winds Carry Dust a Long Way
 

The fingers tightened until the flesh under them made an audible creak, the sound of a windpipe on the verge of being crushed. Luckily for the creature caught in the steel grip, there was no longer any need to breathe. The one who stood before him, hand wrapped around his throat, had taken the last breath from him years ago. Thus, the pain merely served as a reminder of his position and a motivation to avoid failure. When the grip loosened the slightest bit, he spoke. "Please, Master. Give me more time." His overly large body dropped back to its feet as the Master released him and turned away.

"I gave you plenty of time, Luke. Why do you suppose I sent you ahead weeks ago instead of keeping you in Sunnydale to help me? I thought I could trust you to see to it that the next phase in my plan was set up properly." He turned back with a sneer at his childe. "You disappoint me. I expected the machine to be fully operational by the time I arrived. Why the delay?"

Luke rubbed his neck, checking for holes he'd been certain he'd felt the hard fingers dig there. Relief hit him, both at finding no serious damage and at realizing his Sire was allowing him the chance to explain. "My source dried up, you might say, right after he burst into flames. He never had the chance to get me the last few components I need for the machine to work." He paused, reluctant to continue. "This isn't Sunnydale, Sire. Chicago is not under vamp control. There's not been a master of this city for some time."

The Master said, "There is now." He grinned, an awful sight on his bat like face. "When will we have a working machine?"

"I've found a new source. We need a few days, at most."

Snow drifted gently to the ground in front of the black car as it sped along the highway, melting to the asphalt under the assault of the advancing wheels. Drusilla hung out the open passenger side window, watching as the headlights caused the falling ice crystals to shimmer. "Tiny stars, falling from the sky to lead us." Even as the snow melted under the warm tires, it retained its crystalline form when landing on her cold, outstretched hand. "Look at them, Spike, hundreds of little diamonds falling from the sky to be my gems."

Spike smiled at her bubbling happiness, a rare sight since she had been ill, and took his eyes off the road just long enough to glance at the woman beside him, just as the streetlight they passed shined over the glittering ice on her arms and face. "They're lovely, pet. Aren't you cold?" Drusilla shook her head and he turned his eyes back to the road in front of them. The buildings grew larger as he drove his beloved DeSoto into Chicago.

Spike worried that they might be too late to save her. Despite his attachment to his car, he wished he had convinced her to leave it behind for the first time since they had found it and he had made the transition from being chauffeured to preferring to sit in the driver's seat. They could have, probably should have, flown across the country rather than wasting the four nights it took them to drive but Drusilla had insisted they could not leave the car behind or it would be lost to them forever.

Faced with a choice at taking more time or losing the car, Spike would rather have lost the car but he relented when Drusilla refused to eat the dinner he brought her. There was no sense in arguing with the girl once she had set her mind. Thus, four days, or nights rather, after the Master set up his home in the windy city, they followed, passing the sign that announced they had entered the city limits without incident.

Dalton's quiet voice from the back seat shocked Spike out of his reverie. "We shouldn't go to far into town, Master Spike. We'll want to stay on the outskirts where we're less likely to be noticed."

"Thanks so very much for your helpful input, Dalton." Spike answered with evident sarcasm. "That never would have occurred to me. If you have any more brilliant ideas this evening, you be sure to shout them out, why don't you?"

Drusilla pulled herself back into the car and placed one icy, wet palm over Spike's right hand where it rested on the steering wheel. "Ah, ah, ah, Spike. He only meant to help. Listen to the whispers. They say we need all our soldiers, even the one without sparkling armor."

Spike loosened his hold on the wheel to squeeze her hand. "Sorry, baby. It's just we're a bit behind, here. Heinrich was four days ahead of us. He could have been here and gone already."

Drusilla scooted over across the bench seat to lean against her love. "The key to his plan is so much dust now and in Chicago the winds carry dust a long way. I hear them howling." She rolled up her window and looked over her shoulder to Dalton. "Is she sleeping peacefully? No, let me have her." When Dalton handed her doll to her, Drusilla leaned against Spike once more, the doll in her arms. "She's hungry. When do we eat?"

Chapter 3 - A New Player in the Game
 

"I'm not hungry." Drusilla pointedly ignored the gagged and bound girl Spike had brought to her and left next to the bed.

Spike pulled at his hair with mounting frustration. "You said you were hungry not an hour ago, Dru. We found a place as quickly as we could, stroke of luck this was so empty looking but came with a built in dinner." Spike nodded toward the girl, found sleeping in a sleeping bag in the abandoned house. "Please, you need to eat something. You promised me that you would eat if we drove here. We're here." He grabbed Drusilla's chin gently, turning her face to his. "You look tired. What's say you have dinner and call it an early morning? You've hardly rested since we left California."

"I tried to sleep, I did. It's just I keep seeing her." She looked almost sane for a moment, which never failed to frighten Spike because that always meant she knew something. "There's a new player joining the game, fresh fruit from the branch." Drusilla's eyes closed. "Warm she is, and sweet, like steamed milk with honey. Get her for me?" Her eyes opened as she gasped. "She mustn't get to him first. The screams will never end."

"New player? It's not Darla shown back up after Heinrich is it?" Drusilla shook her head in response to his question. So, he let that train of thought go for more pressing matters. "No matter, whoever she is, she's not here but the girl I found for you is. What will it take to get you to eat what dinner I already brought you?"

 The girl in question whimpered through her gag, causing Spike to take note of his own hunger pangs. He smiled at Drusilla as the idea came to him. "We could share if you like, make a game of it. You always liked that."

Drusilla leaned into Spike, purring at him. "Games. I'd like to play a different game. Want to play with me? I want to play before the sugar melts in the rain." She ran one fingernail down Spike's neck, just hard enough to raise a welt without drawing blood. "I promise to eat with you after we play."

"If you swear you'll eat and then go straight to sleep." Spike spoke like a parent talking to an unruly child. "I think we can think of a game."

She moved, silent and swift, through the darkness, using a lifetime of training for the first time in the real world, all alone. The building looked impenetrable but she knew there was almost always a weak spot. Looking up, she spotted the window that she could just squeeze through to make her entrance. She scaled the wall using an old rusty pipe that hung from the side of the building and opened the window slowly, cautiously avoiding making even any sound only the dead could hear.

Too many of them, she thought. She didn't have the experience needed for a mission like this. Her call had only come a few nights earlier. Then again, what else could she do? Her entire life had led her to this moment, the time when she could fulfill her destiny. To be certain, she counted them again.

Twenty-three vampires surrounded the one known as the Master of Aurelius in the open main room of the old factory. Clutching her stake to her heart like a child would hold its favorite blanket, she slid back down the pipe and started away from the building. She needed a plan, she thought, or better odds. Kendra, the Vampire Slayer, retreated.

Thirst and hunger satisfied, Spike left Drusilla in Dalton's care in their makeshift home and went out to do some pre-dawn reconnaissance. Drusilla's instructions, after a bit of loose translation and some assumptions on Spike's part, led him right where he wanted to be.

He saw several vampires he could only assume to be the Master's new minions heading into an abandoned factory. That much he had expected out of the night. What he didn't expect was the familiar quickening in his veins that he knew from so long ago. It couldn't be. The girl had just died at the Master's hand, had she not? "Slayer?" He said quietly into the darkness, not expecting any answer.

Just then, his eyes caught a hint of motion in the outer corner of his peripheral vision. He turned to watch something moving on the side of the factory. Going into vamp face to use the enhanced vision, he made out the figure of a girl sliding down the pipes with all the skill of a professional cat burglar. Perhaps his senses hadn't misled him after all.

Everything about the girl screamed "Slayer," power trapped into a small body that could stand to gain a stone or two. Spike frowned at her retreating form as she ran off into the city, seemingly unaware of his hostile gaze resting on her back. He felt as if the stakes in an already vicious poker match had just been upped; he had a pair of deuces. Not only did they have to capture Heinrich. Now, they had to beat the new Slayer to him. Drusilla's vision from earlier came to his mind. The new player could cost them the kitty.
 
 

Chapter 4 - That Mechanical Rhythm
 

With a mechanical groan, the device came to life, chains and cogs moving the conveyor along its appointed path to the Master's fiendish delight. He laughed. "Listen to it, my childe. That whine of metal against metal is music to my old ears. I tell you; the advances science has made over the years still make me dizzy. Invention must be the only good trait of humans besides their blood." He clapped one hand on to Luke's shoulder. "Soon, this entire town will be under my control, just like Sunnydale."

Heinrich addressed one of the nameless minions. "Bring out the test subject. I want to watch it bleed her dry."

In order to be heard over the growing cacophony as all the various machines in the factory began running, Luke yelled, the tendons in his bulky neck becoming more pronounced. "The oracle saw that a new Slayer has been called, Master. Should we post extra guards to watch for her? The Council is bound to send her here if they get word that you have moved on."

"Let her come." The Master answered. "I can still feel the last Slayer's blood within me, making me stronger.  If this one wants to oppose me, she'll die even faster than the others have."

Her fingers rapidly punched the memorized string of numbers into the public phone. Her Watcher would know what she should do. Watchers always knew. She twirled Mr. Pointy in one hand nervously while the other hand held the receiver to her ear. By the fourth ring, she had her nerves back under control. "A Slayer shows no emotions." She reminded herself quietly. The line clicked open on the sixth ring.

The welcome and familiar sound of a voice now so far away answered. "Sabuto here."

She tucked the stake into the back pocket of her pants. "It's Kendra."

"Ah, Kendra." He went straight to business. "What were you able to find? Is the Master in Chicago as our sources indicated?"

"I found him." She paused before dropping the bomb. "There are far too many of them for me to take out alone. They've set up another blood factory like the one reported in Sunnydale. I need back up."

He actually laughed. "My dear, what have I taught you all these years since you came to live with me? Have you listened to none of it? There is no back up once you've been chosen. The Slayer is always alone."

Avoiding the neighbor, just out to retrieve the morning paper, Spike let himself into the house. As it wouldn't do to draw attention to their presence at this early stage, he closed the door behind himself slowly. He shook his head. It seemed like a nice neighborhood. Why would a squatter have been living in a house like this, with everything grand left behind in some unknown emergency?

Two steps from the foot of the stairs, Dalton approached. "Master Spike?" The bespectacled vampire wouldn't meet his Master's eye.

"Can't it wait, Dalton? I want to check on Drusilla before we begin planning our attack."

The subordinate vampire kept his eyes averted. "It's about Mistress Drusilla."

'So, that's it, then?' Spike thought. 'He's gone and upset Dru again. No wonder he looks like I'm going to beat him senseless.' Spike's voice grated. "What did you do this time?"

"N...nothing, I did nothing." Dalton pleaded. "She started screaming bloody murder just a few minutes after you went out. She kept saying something about a Slayer and needing to warn you. I know I promised to keep her here but it took me an hour to get her back to bed and to stop her from running out after you."

"You did the right thing, then." Spike looked up the stairs. "She was right, of course. She always is. I saw the new Slayer tonight. She was casing the place right when I got there, all ninja like. She ran off, though, fear coming off her in intoxicating waves. Maybe she's not so tough yet."

She wasn't asleep. Drusilla got back out of bed the moment Dalton left her alone. Filled with sudden nervous energy, she paced about the room for a bit before pulling down all of the bed curtains to the floor and ripping them to ribbons. When she had ruined them all, she wished they were whole again and sat on the floor arranging the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.

That was how Spike found her. "What are you doing, poodle?" He asked, crouching next to her.

"They tried to convince me you wouldn't make it here in time." She handed one of the scraps of fabric to him. "I knew you would. Help me put these back?

Spike looked at the tattered cloth in his hand. "We'll have better curtains at the next place. You know we can't put them back like they are now."

"She was there, wasn't she?" Drusilla asked suddenly. "You saw the new Slayer."

"Who do you suppose lived here? Bed Curtains are rather odd these days." Spike tried to avoid her question, trying not to worry her needlessly. "Maybe someone rich and famous lived here, wouldn't you like that? Maybe we can try to figure who it was."
 

Chapter 5 - Whiling Away the Day
 

Drusilla always loved a mystery. Spike loved that about her. He saw the look in her eyes at the suggestion that they try to determine who had so carelessly abandoned the old house. It reminded him of the look she had right before a woman named Agatha became their unwilling houseguest for some time many years ago.

To pass the time during the day, back before the common time thief, the television, invaded homes around the world, Spike read to Drusilla. Her favorite stories were always the mysteries. Not long after Darla left the two of them, Drusilla found a new favorite author. She became obsessed with finding any new tale the woman wrote as soon as they could so she could listen as Spike laid out the story for her with his voice, soothing her to sleep.

Finding the woman herself had been pure chance. The night she wandered away from her home would become a mystery to the world, much like one of her books, but Spike knew for a fact where Agatha had been. Drusilla had wanted to turn her, of course, to keep her near so the stories would keep coming. The woman had refused the offer. Then, against all of Spike's wishes, Drusilla had simply let the woman leave during the day.

Spike was certain the woman would betray them but she never did. Also, the stories kept coming, meaning Drusilla was happy. Decades later, they still sometimes read Agatha's books, and laughed while watching the movie made about her disappearance.

In the attic, Drusilla found an old trunk, much like the one she had when they still traveled by boat. It lay beyond a patch of sunlight that streamed in through a gap in the curtains. Dru edged around the deadly stream of nuclear destruction, making her way to the box. The lock kept her from opening it due to her weakness. She pleaded. "Open it for me? It's singing to me, Spike. I want to see inside."

Spike followed her winding path, also avoiding the sun's rays by millimeters. "You think there's something important in there? It's covered in dust, baby. There can't be anything recent there." He broke open the lock and lifted the lid.

Drusilla reached past him to grab the smaller box, sitting atop old clothes. She opened its lid, the creak of tiny hinges wailing in protest after so many years unused. The necklace within the box was old beyond even the years of either vampire, that much could be seen right away. Drusilla ran her fingers over the copper disc that dangled from the chain. "It's so cold, like ice."

Though it was only about the size of a quarter and held no discernable markings, something about it made Spike want to close the box back up and never look in it again. He opened his mouth to voice his misgivings but closed it again, thinking about how much Dru seemed to like the old thing. She could usually tell about things like this. Maybe no harm would come of her keeping it. He flinched when Drusilla opened the clasp and refastened it, the chain around his neck. His mouth opened again. "What are you doing, Dru? I don't like that little thing."

"Keep it for me? I saw it on you the second I opened the box. It fell from the stars for you, my sweet." Drusilla tucked the necklace under Spike's t-shirt.

Spike felt the cold of the disc as it hit his chest, cold even against his dead skin. There had to be something magical about it, which always made Spike a bit nervous. He didn't like spells but he would do whatever Drusilla asked of him, no question. If she knew more than that he should wear the necklace, she would have told him. "Right then, what else can we find up here?"

Maybe if Agatha were with them, they could have found more clues. As it was, it only took a couple hours before Drusilla was tired enough to suggest they call it a day, mystery never to be solved. Spike watched her as she slept, glad his attempt at distraction had worked. He would take care of the Slayer, no need to worry her.

Drusilla slept fitfully, tossing and turning as the nightly visitations came. She saw people in her dreams, people she had known when she was alive, people she had known since she died. Unlike her visions, which tended to come to her as a flash when she was fully awake, her dreams didn't always speak of the future. Sometimes they spoke of the past. But, then again, history does tend to repeat itself, does it not?

The two girls walked toward Drusilla through a fog of many years, their faces only becoming clear as they came to within a foot of her. She remembered both of their faces and wondered what they had come to show her. Whenever she saw Slayers in her dreams, all hell was about to break loose.
 
 

Chapter 6 - A Chill in her Blood
 

By mid afternoon, the snow that fell so lightly the night before began to fall in earnest. It piled into drifts against the buildings and covered the streets, blanketing the entire town before the sun went down, unseen behind the clouds. The snow suited the vampire's purpose for the evening quite well. One superfluous problem stood between him and his goal. He intended to solve that problem. Not only would the snow muffle his already virtually silent gait, it would also afford him the luxury of visible tracks.

After spending the remainder of the afternoon in fitful sleep, he exited alone into the mist-covered world just as the sun set. The fog from the cold air surrounded him, making his progress toward the factory invisible to any casual observers, not that any would be out that night. The dense fog reminded him of his early days as a vampire when the deadly fogs from coal burning smothered the whole of London. The one difference was the fog was no longer as deadly as he.

It took mere minutes to reach the warehouse district from their stolen home. A block from the factory, he caught sight of what he could only assume were her tracks. Small boot prints made their way through the idyllic white to the harsh concrete and metal of a factory meant to destroy rather than create.

She felt that someone was following her long before she ever could have heard or seen for certain, her Slayer senses kicking in to alert her to approaching danger. She stopped to look around but found no apparent sign that anyone else was out in the snowy night. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was out there, watching her. That could only mean one thing. Kendra called out into the darkness beyond the streetlights. "Show yourself, vampire. I know you're there."

The voice that answered her seemed to come from far closer than she would have wanted or believed possible. "Then, you're already better than I thought you were."

She tried to find the speaker, squinting with human eyes to the direction from which the disembodied voice had come, but had no luck. When the voice came again, she whirled around, surprised that he had somehow silently circled around to her back. "I'm glad about that, actually. I've been itching for a good fight."

Kendra's voice came out loud and strong, devoid of the fear she felt. She refused to show her fear for fear was emotion; emotion was weakness. "We could fight now if you would show yourself."

The voice had circled behind her yet again. "Are you so ready for death that you invite it to dance with you?" The blow caught Kendra before she turned enough to see her attacker. By the time she recovered, he was hidden by darkness once more. "What a pity that is. Does tend to take the fight out of a girl. It's not as much fun if you don't fight."

"I have enough fight in me for ten of your kind, vampire." Kendra pulled her favorite stake from her back pocket, brandishing it toward the mysterious voice in the blackness.

"Glad to hear it, Slayer." The vampire stepped toward her and into the small circle of light. "Name's Spike, by the way. Thought you might like to know it before I kill you."

Kendra scoffed at his arrogance. "All vampires are just dust to me. I don't need to know what you call yourself before you die." She lunged forward with the stake raised but the vampire sidestepped her with little trouble.

Spike loved the feel of a good fight starting, all the possibilities lay out like a night at an amusement park would be for a human. The smell of her fear, even if she would never admit to any, intoxicated him more than the strongest drink ever had. She put up a brave front just like the other Slayers with whom he had danced. He sidestepped her initial attack with a smile on his demonic face, kicking her in the back as she stumbled past. "Are you sure you're not looking to die tonight? If not, you shouldn't expose your backside like that."

The Slayer slid to the wall of the factory with the force of his blow pushing her across the ice under her feet. Judging from how she handled it, he decided it never snowed where she had lived. When she turned back around, the ice and snow were warmer by far than the glare she sent toward Spike. He laughed as she ran at him again, even more recklessly than the first time. "Oh, I've made you angry, have I?"

Taunt after taunt flowed from Spike's mouth. Oh, he truly savored the chance to dance with a Slayer. For all his verbal jabs to the contrary, he hadn't seen as good a fight in some time. Nevertheless, he was winning. The girl's anger grew in direct proportion to how impetuous her attacks became. Spike avoided her and snuck in stray blows until he saw a real opening. The end of the game arrived with the smash of the Slayer's head into the harsh metal of the lamppost sending her into the complete blackness of unconsciousness.

Spike sank his fangs into the girl's neck with delight that wouldn't last. The moment her blood flowed into his mouth, he felt a chill near his silent heart. Only after he stopped drinking, the girl still very much alive, did he realize the cold was the metal pendant against his skin.

Drusilla woke well into the evening to find that Spike had already gone. Panic set in as the words of the two Slayers in her dreams ran through her head and she bolted from the bed, running down the stairs as quickly as her frail limbs would carry her. Dalton caught her just before she ran out into the snow clad only in a light nightgown. She wailed. "No. We have to keep him from killing her. I need her."

Chapter 7 - Just Seeing Things
 

Despite Drusilla's screams and her many attempts to claw at Dalton's skin with her talon like nails, Dalton managed to get the front door shut and grasp both of her arms tightly enough to drag her back up the stairs. In truth, he knew he could never have managed it before she had become ill, just as he would surely pay for his insolence when the mistress was well again. 'Better her wrath later than Spike's now' he thought, reminding himself to stop her loud protests before the neighbors took notice. "Mistress, please. Master Spike will be so angry if we are forced to leave because some nosy neighbor has called the police."

She freed one hand from his when they reached the bedroom door. One red fingernail tapped the left eye lens on his glasses. "I've seen them. Not a third alone, they say. Their blood is already his."

Dalton blinked rapidly, releasing her other arm and stepping away from the finger as if it were a hot poker pointed at his eye. "Seen whom?"

"Blood needed but can't be found alone, don't you see?" She reached forward and pulled the glasses from his face. "Maybe you aren't looking right. It won't be enough tea to fill my cup if we don't add the honey." She stared at the light reflecting off the glasses before putting them back on his nose and patting him on one cheek, suddenly calm. "They will tell him for me."

Dalton watched, perplexed as she stepped back into her room. He couldn't keep himself from asking. "Who will tell him?"

"The stars."

"Bloody thing is so cold it feels like fire." Spike cursed softly, pulling the necklace out from underneath his shirt. He held the pendant in his hand for a moment, until it no longer gave a sense of burning to his skin. He looked at the strange metal and shook his head. "I'm just imagining beasties. There's nothing wrong that smelting the sodden thing wouldn't fix."

He leaned in to put his teeth back into the girl's neck but immediately felt the cold again, insulated somewhat by the material of his shirt. The pendant gave off a blue glow. "What the..." Spike stepped back from the unconscious Slayer and noticed the glow dissipated when he did so.

He looked down at the girl, thinking and licking her blood off his lips. Why couldn't he just drink her? She tasted so sweet but something was keeping him from drinking her dry. "Sweet. Honey. Oh, balls." He remembered Dru's vision about the girl the day before. He threw her limp frame over his shoulder in fireman's carry and started walking home. "Looks like you're going home to meet my girl, Slayer." He mused. "Sometimes I wish she would just tell me things a little more straight out, you know?"

Dalton opened the door before Spike had the chance to shift the Slayer enough to reach the knob. "Master Spike, she's been beside herself tonight. She keeps going on about how this all isn't really real but it might as well be since we're here now and some girl getting her jewelry stolen, something like that. Insists you can't kill the girl. Is that her?" Dalton watched as Spike dropped the unconscious girl unceremoniously at the foot of the stairs.

Spike smiled and shrugged off his heavy leather coat, laying it over the banister. "Good thing she's not a corpse then, isn't it?" He held the pendant out. "Bleeding thing tried to burn a hole through my chest the moment I got a good pull on her. Strangest thing I ever saw." He pulled the necklace off and handed it to Dalton. "See what you can find out about this thing. I know Dru thinks it's for my own good but the thing just makes me nervous. Never did like magic. Find out what it does, who made it, everything." He chuckled a little as he bent to pick up the girl. "Not real? She's on about that again? Maybe the Slayer's blood will lift her spirits."

Kendra came to with an overwhelming feeling of nausea. She forced herself not to be sick and tried to listen beyond the pounding in her head for some sign of what had happened to her. Whatever happened couldn't be good but at least the pain in her head was of some small comfort. A pounding headache indicated blood flow, which indicated she was neither dead nor undead, not yet anyway. Straining her ears, she could just make out the murmur of a familiar voice. Familiarity is not always a good thing.

 
 

Chapter 8 - Mad Tea Party
 

Kendra felt a shiver run up her spine when she recognized his voice, Spike, the vampire she had been fighting. Well, she had obviously lost. She kept her eyes closed and feigned continued sleep to try to understand her surroundings better. She was sitting upright but very stiffly, tied to a chair most likely. Warmth surrounded her, indicating they had moved her indoors. Yes, they. Not only could her Slayer senses detect more than the one vampire, but she could also hear another voice, the soft voice of a woman, a vampiress. She almost flinched when the voices became louder.

"Absolutely not, Dru!" Spike saw the pout forming on her face and lowered his voice to a soothing purr. "Sorry, poodle. I'm a bit worked up about this but with good reason, I'd have to say. It's never been done and for obvious reasons. Who knows what would happen? Come, now, pet. I brought the girl for you."

Spike ran his left hand through Drusilla's hair, savoring the softness. She leaned toward his hand with a smile. "It's why I wanted her here."

Spike tried to reason with her, not that it often worked. He knew she had him. "Her blood could help you. Eat her. Hell, turn her for all I care but you can't be serious. You're not at all your self right now. Even at his best, Vlad could never..."

Drusilla pushed her hand away from her hair and replaced it with her own, pulling so hard that Spike feared she might actually rend the locks from her scalp. "I can! I can!" Spike's hand returned to still hers, calming her down enough that the next words came out as a whisper. "I can."

Spike started to answer her but stopped when Drusilla made a shushing sound, inclining her head toward where the Slayer sat, tightly bound to one of the dining chairs. "Listen, Spike. Her heart sounds like conga drums."

Spike smiled at her ever-changing moods. "I had noticed the bird was playing possum. Now, you wanted to invite her to tea?" He laughed when Drusilla merrily started pouring.

Kendra tried to keep her eyes closed even though she now realized they were on to her. If only her watcher were there, maybe he would know what to do. Kendra, herself, had no ideas. She finally opened her eyes when the light slap caught her on her already bruised and swollen cheek.

The first thing she saw was a man's face. It wasn't until she heard him speak again that she realized she now faced Spike, his human guise in place. "All right, then." He said. "You two girls have a nice time." He turned to the woman, who was setting a teacup down in front of Kendra. "Are you sure about this, Drusilla?"

The dark haired woman, beautiful in a way that assured Kendra her senses were correct in assuming Drusilla was a vampire, answered him. "We'll have a wonderful party, just the two of us. Won't we, precious?" Large blue eyes stared hungrily at Kendra, propelling her with the urge to pull at her restraints until she found she was completely immobilized.

Spike reached around behind her to check the ropes. "Just do me a favor and leave her tied up, ok?" He kissed Drusilla on the forehead before leaving the room. "Have fun, kitten."

"Find anything yet?" Spike strode into the living room, interrupting Dalton's research.

Dalton said, "I don't have many of my books since we left California in such a hurry." by way of stalling. "The odds of there being anything pertaining to the particular item in question in the few books we brought along are..."

Spike grabbed the book out of Dalton's hands and slammed it onto the table. "Don't give me excuses, brain boy. I want answers. Doesn't this city have a library? Certainly seems like it should."

"Well, of course it does but..."

Spike pulled Dalton from the comfort of the sofa and gave him a shove toward the door. "Then get to it."

Kendra struggled to stay awake, the throbbing at the base of her skull causing her to teeter on the brink of unconsciousness. She was dimly aware of Drusilla's voice asking her if she wanted any sugar in her tea. Perhaps if she cooperated she could gain enough time to build up the strength to escape. She managed a small nod, which seemed to please her captor.

Kendra closed her eyes again and listened to the spoon clinking against the cup as the sugar melted into the cup of tea she had no wish to drink. The woman began singing.

"Twinkle, twinkle little bat, how I wonder where you're at." The song changed into a giggle. The last thing Kendra noticed was a firm hand running across her head and the voice in her ears. "Be in me."

 
 

Chapter 9 - Stars and Signs
 

"You're sure that's all it does? Not right fond of putting that thing anywhere near myself again unless it's benign."

Dalton flipped the stolen library book around on the table so that Spike could see it and pointed at the passage. "It would seem to be benign, to the wearer at least. The description matches perfectly. What has me curious is how we came by it at all." Off Spike's glare, Dalton corrected himself. "Or, rather, how you came by it, Master Spike."

Spike turned his head toward the dining room. "I think I have an idea about how." He got up and headed to stop in the doorway between the two rooms. "Dru?"

She looked up at him. "Yes, pet?"

"Was there some reason we came to pick this house, beyond the obvious, I mean?"

Drusilla placed another cookie on the plate in front of the Slayer and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to the girl. "Secret, mustn't tell."

"Dru." Spike admonished.

Drusilla just smiled. "Mummy always told me to remember please and thank you when given a gift. Remember to thank the stars, Spike."

Dalton stepped up behind Spike just then. "Most interesting. It also goes on to say the talisman is made from..."

"A meteor." Spike finished.

"Well," Dalton fiddled with the book, trying to show Spike the other page. "Yes, a meteor. How did you guess?"

Spike was about the answer when he saw something quite disturbing. The Slayer picked up her cookie and started to eat it. "What is she doing untied?"

Drusilla patted the girl on the head. "Good girl. Eat your biscuits." Drusilla smiled at Spike again but he was too busy to notice. He was too busy staring into the Slayer's now utterly lifeless eyes.

"You don't mean you actually managed it?" He laughed. "Oh, I'd love to see Drac's face when he hears about this."

Luke exited the office door, a smile on his massive face. His Sire had been correct. The machine was brilliant. The smile left his face quickly when the arrow struck his chest, on the opposite side of his heart.  He fell back against the door and watched the girl approach him. He spoke with a bravado he didn't feel. "You must be the new Slayer. I hate to break it to you." He pulled the arrow out. "You missed."

The voice that answered did not come from the girl. "She didn't have to miss."

Drusilla glided to the girl's side and ran her hand over the girl's head as if petting a dog. "Who's my good girl?"

The distracting scene had the desired effect. Spike had enough time to slip behind Luke and get a hold of both his arms. He shoved the large vampire face first against the wall. "Now I know we're probably family and all that rot but I really couldn't give a toss about you right now. Tell me where Heinrich is and we'll consider letting you go without setting Drusilla's new plaything on you."

When the vampire merely barked laughter, Spike looked back to watch Drusilla's face fall. "Too late." She said. "He's flown."

Spike responded by pushing the face harder into the wall. "Left you in charge, did he? Who are you?"

"The Master's favorite child. You harm me and he will tear you apart."

"So, you're Luke? Way I always heard it, Darla was really his favorite." Spike felt the bulk flinch at those words and pressed. "Maybe I should do old Grand Mum a favor and get rid of the competition. Dru, send the bird over."

Luke spilled. "He's with Darla. She was setting up another factory for him. I'm not sure where."

"There, didn't that feel nice, being all helpful like?" Spike let him go, certain the other vamp wouldn't try anything. Favorite child, indeed. He would have thought Luke to be tougher from the way Darla had spoken of him.

Drusilla moaned, drawing Spike's attention. Her helped her sit down then waited for her to compose herself. "Feeling better?" He waited another moment. "Did you see where they are, pet?"

Drusilla spoke weakly, the visions tore so much out of her in her current state. "We're going to the world's biggest party."
 
 

TBC in the next Story, "Wishing You Were Here"