Spike walked beside Willow in the darkness. Now that he had no interference from his chip the night revealed itself to him in all its diamond velvet glory. He felt the owls´ wing beat above him and the leaf crawlers beneath his feet. Scents and sounds of the humans that passed near issued an irresistible invitation to his fangs. He spun round off the path and indulged in a carefree cartwheel.

Willow stood transfixed on the path. Spike looked happier than she´d ever known him. She smiled and left the path to tread on the soft bladed turf that surrounded the university.

Spike turned on the spot with his arms outstretched and laughed breathily. He felt alive tonight… He had found his love through generations of searching and now had only to find and destroy his old flame.

"My Spike has found a treasure."

He stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar east end lilting voice. "Dru!" He breathed. He fixed his gaze on Drusilla and sent out warning tentacles to Willow to stay still and quiet.

The ageless vampire-seer drifted closer to Spike, her fragile form belied her strength. She was within biting distance before her mind caught up with her body.

"Ooh, Spike´s tic-tock is gone!" She laughed a brittle, shattered laugh and slithered around his body. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she cackled again. "What larks! What japes you have planned for them all, my lover…" She slowly backed away, shaking her head. "What of me? What of poor dark Drusilla?" She moaned.

Willow took a step closer to better hear their conversation.

Dru screamed at Spike. "Kill the Slayer? Daddy shall hear of this!" Then she pouted, licking his throat and then nipped with razor fangs. "Spike, you wouldn´t kill your mummy."

Spike shoved her away and watched as his mad, dark demoness drunkenly licked her lips. He glanced at Willow and decided.

"I won´t let you kill Buffy!" Spike shouted and launched himself at Dru. He held her arms fast to her sides and drained her. Her body jerked against his as he absorbed all her memories and the unseen, untold terrors at Angelus´ hands. Now he knew why he disliked the poof so much! She sighed against him and collapsed like a deflating helium balloon. Spike hoisted her up holding her wrists in a steel grip; he spread her arms wide and threw her up into a nearby tree where a jagged, stout branch pierced her heart. Her ashes rained down on him like dirty snow, staining his streaming tears red and grey.

An orphan of the night, Spike sank to the ground and raised his vampire visage to the star-dusted night sky.

Willow knelt behind him and enfolded him with comforting arms.

He sighed and patted her warm hands, thanking her for the unspoken words of comfort. He dragged himself to his feet and walked her the rest of the way home.

"Then Spike threw her up into the tree and killed her…"

Spike stared at the wood floor of the Magic Shop as Willow told the tale of Drusilla´s second death. He heard all manner of voices in his head now that Drusilla had gone. Perhaps he had drained her voices from her as well as her blood.

Spike fancied he saw Angelus in the corner of the room salivating over his human friends. He glanced in Xander´s direction; yes plump and warm oozing hot, hard life.

How could they ignore most of what surrounded them? The night and the creeping death that surrounded the Hellmouth, it was a giant blood red flame to the Vampire race.

Spike´s gilded glare rested on Giles and he saw doubt for the first time since the discovery of the Rosenberg prophecies. Doubt, quickly disguised as an interested gaze. Alarm raged through his vampire mind. Discovered, uncovered and laid bare his plot to bleed Sunnydale dry. He shifted his gaze to Xander who chatted and interacted with Willow so innocently, his pounding pulse still sped blood south to an ever-hopeful erection.

Spike smiled and raised his head as Willow finished her story and came to stand next to him; she grasped his hand and raised it high in a victory salute.

"Ladies and gentlemen I give you Spike the Vampire Slayer!"

There was polite applause which, pointedly, Buffy did not join in.

Spike looked embarrassed. His demon raged at the civilised noise and almost broke free of self-imposed constraint. He twitched occasionally with the effort of his act. He turned his head and saw Giles looking concerned. He growled beneath human hearing and crystal artifacts resonated and fractured.

"Spike, you´ve removed another threat to the Slayer and Sunnydale. We owe you our thanks." Giles said this with less sincerity than last time. He began to be suspicious of Spike´s motives. He and Drusilla had stayed together for a long time. Spike wouldn´t switch his allegiance so easily unless he had a good reason. It warranted more research. He couldn´t use Willow; she wouldn´t hear a bad word said of Spike. Xander, he would ask Xander to help him.

Angel stopped fighting. He turned away from his foe and walked purposefully into the night. He cleared the alley and then started to run. Something disturbing had happened in Sunnydale. Someone had killed what was his. Drusilla, the dark, sparkling jewel in his “scourge of Europe” crown was dust. He had felt her passing. He threw down his sabre and stamped on the blade. He was no “warrior of light” until the slayer of his dark childe lay, hung, drawn, and quartered at his feet.

End of part 3

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