Author: CrimsonFuchsia

Rating: R
Pairings: Spike/Drusilla
Summary: After Angelus is cursed, Spike and Dru travel to Transylvania but run into Dracula, a Slayer and Anyaka
Spoilers: Umm...it's pre-Buffy but it has Drac in it (how did he owe Spike that £11?) and Anya's a vengeance demon...
Timeframe: Pre-Buffy
Warnings: Violence and sex...oh yeah if you don't like Spike/Dru PLEASE don't read it - you won't like it. Thank you ^_^
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. I'm just borrowing them for fanfic purposes, please don't sue me.
Dedication: This 'fic is dedicated to all the S/Ders at the S/D board - I'll miss you guys so much! Kerri, Duckstew, Omnibeast, Angel Sacrifice, Bullocks, Karnstein, loonylady, Dru17...everyone - this is for you! All my love; xxx
 

13. Ring of Roses
 

Spike stared at the sleeping form of his dark princess in those hours of the day between pleasuring the horror of her vision out of her, burning, furious lovemaking, sleep and his early morning departure. To find out more about this Slayer.if there was one in these parts. If so, she was in for a really bad week. He figured that if there was a Slayer, there'd be plenty of vamps and a handy system in the town's sewers, and that's how he'd get around.

At the back of the room, tied roughly to her own wooden cabinet, Ehlana was viewing the scene with horror but also an absent-minded resignation. Her hands were cut and bloody from being tied by coarse ropes, her back ached in pain from her position and the back of her dark head was bleeding from being slammed into a wall. It still hurt, even now. Her eyes and cheeks were red from tears, her throat hoarse from sobs. But by now they'd all died, all hope of being rescued was gone, and she seemed to accept that these creatures were going to kill her as they'd killed her husband. This was the end. She tried to stop herself from shedding further tears, wanting to die with some dignity, but not even this grim determination she now harboured could take away her fear. The overwhelming fear of these demons. She had woken up to the sounds of them pleasuring each other and the horror and nausea she suffered was unbearable. She kept quiet in a silent hope they might give her a quick and painless death. She spent her time muttering low prayers in an attempt to have her soul clean before she died.

Spike ignored her; she was Dru's toy. He gazed down at his goddess once more. She was lying on the velvet sheets completely naked and lovely like a mystical nymph, perfectly still and without breath, her beautiful ivory form set alight by her wild dishevelled hair, spread about her like a thousand raven feathers, her sharp-featured face awash with a look of sublime peace. A touch of a smile graced her lips, lips that seemed to beg to be touched by his.

She stirred slightly as she woke, her body massaging itself against the thick, soft sheets of the bed. "Mmmm." she whispered as she returned to the waking world. "The earth is stirring."

He was at her side. "Pet?"

She held her small hand out in front of her, seemingly mesmerised by it as it moved almost independently of her body, her dark eyes following its fluidic movements. "I had a dream... remember that time we saw that lovely, dark play? The one by the man of poetry whose words made me ripple and dance?"

"Ah, Macbeth, right?" Spike said, remembering his paramour's love for that play and how she insisted on seeing it again and again, forever quoting it afterwards. He smiled slightly as he recalled Drusilla's adoration for the woman playing Lady Macbeth and wanting to eat her, but realising the next night that she wouldn't be able to see that actress on stage any more. He'd spent all night trying to comfort her after that little incident and took great pleasure in making her feel better by suggesting they massacre the rest of the cast. Yes, Macbeth was a play he wouldn't forget any time soon.

"Yes, my love.Macbeth and his hands of blood.remember those witches? The three weird sisters that spoke of things to come in double-dealing tongues?"

"Yeah, I remember them but what's that got to do with - "

"They're here." Drusilla interrupted.

"Here?"

"I saw them in my dream and the moon whispered that bad things always come in threes." She said quietly.

"Are they the big bad you saw in your vision at dawn, pet? The thing we thought might be a Slayer?"

"It's all a rhapsody, my Spike. All the forces dancing and mingling when they oughtn't." She put her icy palms to her temple and gripped her skin and raven hair. "I can't separate the notes, can't tell which is which."

He put an arm around her. "Come on," he coaxed "Talk to Spike."

"I saw three naughty girls like the witches, I know that. They laughed and made lovely fires burn inside each other, the way you did to me when we arrived here. But a Slayer... I can't see her... it's dark where she is, but it doesn't mean she's not here. She's hiding, shielded from the world. I can't see right. But my cards will know. I can hear their song from all the way over here," she said in a rush, almost breathless as she released her hands.

Spike took her cold hand in his own and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to trails further and further down towards her fingers, until he had one dainty fingertip in his mouth. He nipped it slightly, causing Drusilla to hiss in pleasure-filled pain. Slowly he edged away from the bed, remembering that he had something to do and he would do it, sun or no sun.

"Do you have to go right now? It won't be as much fun without you." Drusilla said slowly, seductively, her words lingering like silk sliding off smooth naked skin as her hand touched her lover's chest lightly and moving down and down, fingers dancing on alabaster skin.

Spike took in a deep, unneeded breath and pulled himself away while he still could. He was never one to refuse Dru anything but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Sorry, love. You needn't get bored though, you've still got that bint over there to have some fun with," he said, kissing her on the forehead. Drusilla pouted slightly at his action and quickly cupped his face in her hands and held it inched away from her own. A wide, taunting smile played on her lips.

"Alright, my Spike," she whispered and kissed his forehead too, then lowered her head as though she was going to kiss his lips in the same chaste manner but instead, her tongue snaked out of her own mouth and touched his lips lightly before fully sweeping across his lips. He moaned slightly, aching for her to deepen the kiss but she refrained, her face awash with the look of a naughty child as she pulled away, onyx eyes sparkling with innocent mischief.

"If the cards say sweet things, like pouring honey in my ear, then you'll have more naughty treats from me when you return." She was grinning widely now, enjoying the teasing. He knew he deserved it.

He grinned back at her and said, "I best hurry back then," before turning to the stoic Ehlana and saying to her, "Seeing as I'm going to have to use the sewers to get by, you don't mind me tearing up a right old mess in your bathroom, do you luv, now that you won't be using it anymore," mocking her with his question.

Ehlana turned to him, glaring daggers, her anger at this filthy demon that dared do this to her temporarily overwhelming her fear. "Not at all, just make yourself at home." She replied in perfect English, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Spike raised an eyebrow, silently amused by her answer, thinking she had more balls than her idiot of a husband and better knowledge of the English language. He smiled rudely at her. "Ta Ellie, looks like I'll be off then."

Drusilla waved slowly, smiling innocently. "Have a nice day out, Spike," she said as he left, her attention more fixated on impertinant Ehlana.

"Your mummy should have sent you to charm school," she said, crawling - still nude and lovely - towards the edge of the bed to have a better look at the middle-aged woman. Ehlana trembled, feeling far more threatened by this tempest of childlike mannerisms, ripe womanly passions laced with dark insanity than her demon lover's constant change in temperament from romantic, to rude, to good-humoured and to frightening bloodthirst and viciousness. Somehow, she felt more solid with the male demon, as though she knew where she stood with him. The female however was a terrifying enigma.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, her voice not being able to escape the monotonous tone that came with the realisation that her life was at an end.

"Well, good girls apologise so I suppose I'll forgive you for that," she replied, but Ehlana got the strongest sense that this she-demon was only playing games with her.

Ehlana took the plunge. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked, trying her best to conceal any show of emotion as she spoke.

The demon smiled. "Yes, but it'll be lovely. Like peonies bursting free of silk petals."

Ehlana found no comfort in her words and felt bitter defeat all around her but no true disappointment. Her dear husband was killed without a second thought so why should these creatures see fit to spare her? It was the answer she was expecting.

"Oh" was all she could say in response.

"But I won't let you go in blood now, little dear. My cards sing to me, want me to discover the land's secrets, and Miss Edith still isn't telling me anything new so I'll have to punish her before you and play with my dear cards too. Time to work now, time for tea later."

Drusilla smiled, beauty and madness incarnate.

* * * * *

Theresa found herself at the familiar two-floored house that was her home. In complete disarray, hardly presentable and so very middle-class at best, but it was home. Where another Slayer might have tried to justify living in such a place due to lack of finances on her Watcher's part, not Theresa. Edward had been insistent on a better house because as a young lady of noble birth she had become used to a life of luxury and would find it difficult to adjust. However, Theresa put her foot down - she despised all things related to her previous life. Also, it would be foolish to waste the little money they had on a better house where they might find themselves in the public eye, and this small house had a huge cellar - which would be very useful. Besides, she liked it... it looked homely yes, but it had a.personality. It looked like a HOME, something Theresa desired with every fibre of her being. A real home.

They had blended into the community with relative ease, all things considered. They had posed as husband and wife (marriages of such age difference obviously were common in these parts of Romania also, it would seem) and made every effort to be as solitary as possible but without drawing any attention. Edward had established himself as a mortician (which was frowned upon as morbid) and earned respect, money and a chance to examine bodies for sign of a supernatural attack. Theresa remained in her room all day to sleep off her nightly exhaustions and justified it to gossiping neighbours that she was terribly ill and in dire need of rest all day and night. People quickly learned to accept it (but such a tragedy in one so young, they all whispered) and not to mention it, as it was not a suitable topic for polite chit-chat.

Behind thin curtains she could make out the candlelight and couldn't help but snigger to herself. Why was it that Edward INSISTED on staying up researching until she returned? She knew the importance of finding out what exactly was behind all this, but it was the same before arriving to Sighisoara; he always stayed up until she came back. It was very well for her to stay up all night, she had a duty to perform and she had the sunlight hours to sleep; it was different for him, he had a job. But by now it was a habit and he couldn't be swayed. Besides, it gave her a decent opportunity to talk on less active nights.

As she opened the unlocked door (she would have to remind him to lock it in future, one could never be too safe in these times) and entered the house she unwittingly startled her beloved Watcher. However, she found it impossible to contain an amused (but apologetic, to be fair) smile as he jumped back in shock causing a huge pile of books he'd stacked together to topple down on top of him. He stood there, clearly not amused but allowing a warm smile to greet her nonetheless as he smiled with false innocence and turned to shut the door (and locking it as one should).

"It's nice to see you too, Tess," he addressed her with an old nickname, his comment rather sarcastic, in her mother tongue, his pronunciations almost correct. How she wished she could speak English.

"Tess - are you alright? You weren't hurt tonight? You seem a little sullen."

She paused, thinking of how to best tell him. To tell him of defeat and the unwitting murder of a human. There was no real fear in her of the repercussions of this truth as she trusted her Watcher completely, but there was a niggling voice of paranoia warning her of what could happen.

"Tess?" his clear voice broke her reverie.

"I... yes, Edward. I ran into some trouble. A vampire. She was so strong, so fast, and so agile - I couldn't believe it! She was like no creature I've ever fought before, she was such an equal match for my own Slayer abilities... it was unnerving. I had her, almost staked her even, but.I let my guard down and... she... escaped. And I'm a murderess."

"Murderess? Tess, what do you mean? Did she, this vampire, injure your head? Are you injured? Hurt? Are you alright? I don't understand. Did you say murderess?"

"Yes, Edward. I failed you, I'm sorry."

"Tess."

"I-I... don't blame myself, if you must know. It was an accident and it was done during my attempt to slay that vampire, it wasn't my fault, it was hers far more at least."

"Tess... don't hurt yourself over this, you mustn't. Put it out of your mind for now at least - if you say it was not your fault that this tragedy occurred, then I believe you, you know that. And you're adult enough not to dwell on it if the blame is not yours, Tess. Please, put those glum thoughts at ease. Many innocents die accidentally in the battle of good against evil, it's sad but it happens from time to time and can't be helped. Do try to be cheerful, you know how you adore your duty, don't let a vampire's clever murder hurt this in any way. You can tell me more if you like once you've rested."

"And the Council?"

"The Council need not know if the situation isn't dire. I won't endanger you over an accident and I know you are careful and will not let a mistake like this occur again."

"Yes, of course."

Edward said no more, but gave a comforting smile and returned to trying to re-organise his strewn books.

Theresa said nothing but her eyes glowed in response as she regarded him as he struggled to put his many books back correctly and decided to refrain from offering any help as it was all on his own head for not locking the door as one should. She mused to herself that he was very young for one of his profession; she doubted he had yet seen his thirtieth year and she supposed he had found duty as a Watcher so young because he must have been trained from a very young age. But, of course, he was so reserved about himself and about not airing his family matters to others (which, Theresa admitted to herself, stung a little since he obviously still didn't hold her close enough to his heart to tell this to, despite knowing her for years now) that he would never tell a soul.

His youth may have been more apparent than his age, but that was not saying that he was unblemished by time, not at all. His face had more lines (though not deep) than most men his age and his eyes seemed like that of an elderly man's behind those thick glasses, so distant, so knowing, but also large and needy at times, like a dog's eyes. Theresa suppressed a laugh at the comparison. They were large eyes and darkest, richest brown with the odd fleck of silver in the correct light like a shard of a glacier, so sharp she could almost feel the cold Northern wind. Most unusual. But in the wisdom of his strange and ever-distant eyes was a gentle regret, an ancient wound, and unforgotten sadness that she had managed to touch upon in the past but never completely grasp, never fully comprehend.

He was tall and rather wiry of figure, his skin pale, lips tight and thin, facial features soft to the point of looking almost effeminate apart from a sharp nose and a long curved chin which gave him a rather cunning expression, though nothing could be further from the truth in his character. His hair was a raven dark mess - she would have thought someone of his profession to be much more meticulous in his grooming, but Edward's grand dark hair was an untamed mane of jet-black waves that reached his shoulders.

As she stood there he scoffed at her unwillingness to assist him and she couldn't help but break the silence with a laugh and her smiling, happy expression lit up her face. Edward gave a smile of accepting defeat in return.

"Why do you enjoy making fun of me, Tess?" he said, breathless, as he finally restored order to his precious books.

"I'm only laughing - you're too quick to assume I'm laughing at you." She replied, still glowing from her laugh.

"So what exactly are you laughing at?" he said with a comically exaggerated raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't laughing at anything, it was you that was making me laugh, that's all."

He seemed touched by her words and suddenly a pause filled the atmosphere at her remark and she moved to aid him with his books in order to dispel it. Silence was something she was comfortable with but somehow that particular brand of silence seemed awkward. As she walked towards the books from the door, her movements were devoid of any of the Slayer grace she possessed during hunting; now they were hopelessly human to a fault, gauche even.

"Well, I think you should be happy that I have reason to laugh, Edward. You know as well as I do that these are troubled times, so much vampire activity and so little reason for it, laughter's been quite rare between us. Which I regret."

"If anyone is to blame it's me, Tess, so absorbed in finding out the SOURCE of this evil but now I believe our troubles - in that area of our duty at least - is at an end. Whilst you were out hunting vampires tonight, I believe I have a suspect for the supernatural activity. A very old vampire, going by the title of Count Dracula, I believe, according to these ancient texts at least."

Theresa's eyes widened in disbelief. "Count.Dracula?"

"Yes I know the prospect is somewhat.daunting... especially since it is your most scared duty to destroy him, Tess - something you must NOT under any circumstances attempt to do until I say so, since you must be ready, his strength, powers and crimes are, well, legendary to say the least and you can't fight him unprepared. I will help all I can. You know I can't lose you and I'd sooner die myself than send you to your death against such an opponent but - "

"Edward, you don't understand!"

"What do you mean?"

"You say it is Count Dracula? But he's an.urban legend at best! The maids used to frighten themselves silly with stories about him, only they called him Draculea, I think."

"Draculea? That would mean..."

"Son of the Dragon."

"He may be regarded as a tale but the Watcher Diaries suggest he is a real vampiric figure and a powerful one too - "

"And also a ruler here!"

Edward paused, incredulous as Theresa continued. "He was a ruler of our land.I learnt of him when I was younger from a kinder elder brother willing to share knowledge with me. He was a prince here, Prince Vlad Tepes Draculea. He was born HERE in Sighisoara and lived in Bran castle in the nearby town of - "

"Bran."

"Yes, Edward. Apparently he ruled under an iron fist and his method of torturing his enemies gave him the nickname of Vlad the Impaler. His cruelty and ruthlessness was as legendary as any creature of the night's deeds but to say he was - or became - a vampire... well, it's near treason! My father ordered the maids who spread those tales to be whipped! You must be mistaken, Edward."

"There's no mistake, Tess, I'm afraid. Look, most of it is written in Latin but it documents an extensive history of his infamous crimes... there isn't as much impaling now as seductions lately but it's all there. I could translate later if you like."

"Please do. I can't.understand or.accept this. Please Edward, translate it. I need to know everything."

"I understand."

"Thank you." She murmured.

"You're tired. You should go to your room and rest now; it's morning already. I'm sorry your schedule is so brutal these days... but this area.there's so many of them and I... I'm sorry for how hard this must all be on you. You're only young."

"It's all for the greater good, Edward. Sacrifices must be made."

"Yes, but this is a little extreme, Tess."

"No more than is necessary. I understand that. I may be young, but I do understand."

"I know you do, I just worry. One is only young once."

Theresa said nothing but gave her Watcher a tight hug, enjoying the secure feeling he gave her for a moment before turning towards the stairs to her room to receive her much-deserved sleep.

Just as Spike prowled the underground systems of vampires beneath the town of Sighisoara.