Well Met By Moonlight
by Nikki
The square was quiet; the night threw out its dark chest and screeched like a
night owl on the wing. Spike shrugged lower into his duster and shuddered as
an uncompromising wind howled round his ears. It was an ill begotten night
for southern California! He glanced up at the scudding clouds and cursed the
moonless sky. It was too brightly lit by shops and streetlamps for proper
hunting here.
He remembered a time when gaslight threw its warm glow over cobbled fog-wet
streets and he could stalk his prey as silently as he wished.
**********
As usual the vampires split up after the opera, his sire and Angel chose to
roll off towards their rented rooms, whilst Spike preferred to walk down well
remembered paths to his former home.
The house was crumbling but the door held against his efforts to open it. He
heard from within the homely scuffling's of the new occupants. He glanced
through the window and saw a Rabbi and his redheaded daughter sharing their
repast.
He remained at the window watching in the rain until the oil lamps were
extinguished and bedtime candles lit. The domestic bliss haunted him
reminding him of his own past now blurred in blood and violence. At last, the
urgent press of his own hunger forced him away to the hunt.
************
The next night the Rabbi was taken ill and his daughter went for the
physician. She hurried on silent feet across the cobbled streets, Spike
followed and noted her head was covered against the night air but her arms
were pale and bare.
His involuntary gasp at her perfect skin caused his fangs to lengthen and she
stopped to cast a glance over her shoulder. Nothing but deep shadows and the
mist pillowed street met her gaze.
She hurried on and Spike deftly scrambled up a wall and ran silently along
the top to overtake her. He dropped quietly then leant nonchalantly against a
doorway as she approached the intersecting pathways.
The young woman jumped at his sudden appearance and her hand shot to the
silver stiletto that hung from her waist.
"Evening." Spike's eyes slid over her lithe form; even in drab worsted, this
young woman was delectable. He breathed in her scent and savoured each
thunderous heartbeat and rapid breath, would she take flight or fight?
"One side, if you please Sir and let me pass..." Her voice was strong as
though she were used to defending her honour on the lonely midnight streets.
"I don't think so my luscious Jewess," Spike trailed a pale finger over the
hand that held the knife so tightly. "I've a yen for the blood of God's
chosen."
With an angry cry, the woman plunged the knife into his abdomen and fled with
Spike close on her heels.
Her flight was blind in headlong haste, she hitched up her dress and sped as
a frightened deer ducking into unknown alleys and deserted garrets in the
hope of shaking off her attacker. Her shawl fell from her shoulders as she
raced.
Finally, she took a path that ended in a boat landing her exit was cut off by
the oily blackness of the Thames. Her hair whipped around as she frantically
turned her head searching for a boat or a way down the bank.
Her body chilled as she heard the heavy footfalls of her pursuer on the quay,
tears sprung to her eyes and she knew there was no other way; she looked at
the dark water beneath the boards and prayed.
Spike saw her body tense at his approach and smiled; he could almost taste
her hot blood, spiced with fear and despair. He quickened his pace when she
paced backwards making ready to leap into the water and deny him his prize.
He caught her in mid-flight and held her to his chest, her quivering heart
and pallid skin reminded him of his mother in death; how it had felt to end
her suffering. He cradled the girl in his arms and walked to a warehouse
nearby where he laid her down on some cotton bales.
He pulled the knife from his side and held the blade above her lips and as
the ruby blood dripped from the tip, his deep hypnotic voice bade her drink.
She licked the blade clean and moaned as he lay beside her stroking her flame
red hair. Spike's demon demanded his meat and he bit her shoulder just beyond
the cover of her dress.
Her blood tasted like the finest wine, ruby red, hot, strong and sweet.
Spike's eyes turned golden and closed on the images of future encounters with
this woman. No need to drain her now, he could wait for the next few
generations.
He closed the wound and left his beautiful Red in the cotton warehouse as the
dawn approached.
**********
Spike took the last drag of his cigarette and exhaled the blue hazy smoke.
There she was; Willow the Slayer's friend and his prey for the evening. He
cocked his head to one side and smiled. Willow lifted her hand to her
shoulder as if someone had touched her there. The time between them had not
lessened the bond of blood.
He matched her pace and soon was level with her shoulder. He jostled her and
she dropped the books and spell ingredients she was taking to Giles.
"Oh, Spike! It's you! " She smiled easily in his presence even blushing a
little as he stooped to retrieve her books, he took his time because he
wanted to take in her short skirt and delicious thighs.
"Yes, it's only me, Red. Not exactly the Big Bad anymore, am I? " He pouted
and then smiled as she impulsively threw her arms round him in comfort.
"No, you're the Big Cuddly, c'mon Spike. Let's get to Giles' I'm sure he'll
have hot chocolate. Isn't it a wicked night? " Willow continued to babble all
the way to the Watcher's house. Spike grinned and sauntered alongside her.
Each time they passed under a lamp it illuminated the fresh wound in his head
where an unfortunate demon had spiked him before he killed it.
Spikes' chip no longer functioned.
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