9
It wasn't the last time she had lifted him up, when she'd course corrected his fall and kept him from breaking anything crucial. That time, he'd relaxed into her grip, trusted her completely, knew she was guiding him to safety. But now, now he had no bloody idea what she intended. Their arc was precarious, veering dangerously to one side. She landed once, on a higher precipice, then lifted up again. He found he could struggle, that her grip was constricting, but not unyielding, but as she growled warningly into his ear, he went limp again, as this time they soared higher. They soared to the top of the once-three storied, now two levels high hotel. Bloody hell.
They landed less gracefully then she would have on her own, on the very roof. There was a tear, as the supports had crumpled, some of the building had ripped down the middle. From where they stood, he could see down nearly to the first floor, or what was left of it.
"Bloody hell," He said this time, aloud as he stared at the mess of it all. The arms around him snaked tighter. Demolished, sodding demolished. And she'd done this, the slender woman who had him in her arms. Whose yellow eyes gleamed back at him in the night, and whose lips and breath was layered heavily with blood. Fresh blood. Slayer blood. He knew if he kissed her now, he'd taste it, and though it incited the demon within him, it made him shudder. This is what had happened, because of him. She was a vampire, as demonic and as twisted as the rest of them. But she was his, his responsibility. His heart was torn in two because of it.
"Do you like it?" Her words in his ear. He stared blankly down. Well sodding hell, what was he to say now? Appease her or rebel? Normally, he'd be inclined for the latter, no matter the situation, but he was frozen in indecision.
She didn't wait for his answer, the ridges in her forehead creasing further as she frowned. "Well, a closer look then." It wasn't a question, and as the world tipped drastically before him, they were falling. Out of self-preservation or habit, he clutched her tighter as they fell, down, down, down. She bore down on him while he glimpsed the sky. He turned his head, gritting his teeth as he saw the floor rise up closer and closer.
"Soddin—" The roar of the wind half-tore the words from his lips.
Buggering hell, they were going to break through the floor and his back was going to be the battering ram. Unlife flashed back—bloody hell, he'd be confined to a wheelchair again, helpless. Useless, at a crucial time that he needed to be on his feet and capable. For Jade. Had to do it for Jade. And even though she was the one doing this, he couldn't blame her. He could only blame himself.
The floor was there and sodding Hell this was going to hurt—
And at the last second, Jade flipped them and it was her body that took the impact, not his, and they sank down into the first level of the basement, and as she hit the next floor and didn't crash through it, her arms released him and he bounced free. He groaned, pushing his chest off of the floor. Shards of steel had cut him, pipes released their steam that had cooked his skin a little as they passed through. He had, it seemed, a thousand cuts all over his skin, but other than the initial pain, he thought little of it. He glanced instead to the still form of Jade, concern filling him. Bloody hell why did she—
She stirred, grunted. Spat out blood as she sat up. The shoulder that had been struck with the holy-watered crossbow bolt had popped out from the impact, and so she raised a slow, unsteady hand to right it. Her golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. The red-lights that had colored the basement last time were out of power now, but his eyes had adjusted well enough. Well enough to see the shape of her face, the fullness of her lips, the uncharacteristic fangs that poked through.
He held a hand to his chest. It felt bruised, as he had knocked against Jade enough during the impact. "Sod it, woman!" He demanded, anger driving his puzzlement. "Why did you do that?"
She laughed, a raucous, harsh sound. Not like hers at all, but she winced with fresh pain. "I don't want you broken," Jade explained. "I'd prefer you in one, working piece." The lasciviousness behind her tone wasn't her at all either. Her motives were twisted, perverse. But she had spared him. In her right mind or not, she'd done it to keep him unhurt, even if it was her who had put them in danger in the first place. She was still protecting him, except now it was from herself. It was chaos. She was chaos.
And he was so, so sodding sorry. Her goals were still the same but the reasons behind it were malevolent. And it wasn't his Jade who would do these things, and his heart constricted painfully for her. She was closer to Angelus then she ever was to Spike when he had no soul, and she was so lost and confused. Thought she was in control, but she wasn't. She was a wild card.
The woman in front of him might have been a stranger, so different she was, so bent on destruction and mayhem. But she wasn't an alter ego. She wasn't replaced with someone completely different. This was Jade, as she had been, but every dark impulse she would have buried, every sinister thought she had and buried, it was in the open now. Trying so hard to be good, moral and right, it came back at her now. Each thing that she'd chided herself for in the confines of her mind now turned into full-fledged disgust and shame. And the love she'd had for him, though it lingered, at least some aspect of it, was now an unhealthy obsession. How his love of Buffy must have looked to them, but it was different. If anything, her love for him was a twisted one, corrupt and fallible. And it bloody wasn't fair.
"Are you alright?" He found himself reluctant to move towards her, wary. And that wasn't right. This was Jade, and he wouldn't be afraid to touch her.
No matter what she did to him. Even if she had let him crash through the floor first. He wasn't giving up on her. She was all alone, and he'd help her. He was the only one that could. He reached out for her tentatively, and though her eyes narrowed, leery, she let him carefully feel his fingers down her limbs, making sure that her arms hadn't rebroken.
"Might be easier if you just take my clothes off," She told him, unrepentant. No secret thought she had was secret now. Vampires didn't hold back, didn't know how to. Lack of consciousness, lack of caring, or just an invulnerability. Hell, he'd been one to mouth off, and that wasn't something he'd ever cured. But the words coming from Jade, so aberrant, it stilled his touch for a second as he hesitated. She narrowed her eyes further, frustrated as she shot out an indignant, "What?"
"Nothin', pet." He'd never called her pet before, but she closed her eyes, as if appeased. "Does it hurt?"
"No." She lied, then shrugged with her good shoulder. "Yes. But I'm fine. You don't have to worry about them getting me." She looked at him suspiciously, as if she thought maybe he did want it, but the distrustful look dissipated as he gently rubbed his thumb on skin exposed through a tear on her sleeve.
"Lovely dress," He spoke. Keeping her calm and relaxed was his best bet. To keep them both unliving, and him from being seriously maimed. Even injured as she was, he wasn't going to overestimate her ability to lash out. She was unstable. It was the sad, sodding truth, and he could barely accept it. Just days ago, just days, it had been so different. Now, now he was in an entirely different playing field, and he was having a hard time adjust. No bloody idea what he was going to do about it. Didn't know if his love would tame her or send her spiralling further out of reach. No sodding idea.
Her lips twisted into a smile that filled him with unease. "Thank you." She was fidgety, uncertain. "I'm glad you like it."
"Red was a good choice," He added. Her eyes flickered back to him, unsure if it was a gibe, but he stayed stone-faced, rigid, and she shrugged.
"I've missed you," She purred then, shuffling in closer to him so that their knees touched. "I looked, but…" She frowned again, anger threatening to flash up in those golden, predator eyes.
"'M sorry. I was out lookin' for Lyth. I thought…" Spike trailed off. Maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. He hadn't practiced much dishonesty with Jade, but he'd better get used to it now, as her forehead crinkled again, a deep frown.
"Why?" She snapped. She sounded jealous, distrustful.
"Thought she'd done somethin' to you," He answered as truthfully as he could. He raised his hand to stroke her cheek. Here they were, in the belly of a wrecked building, where walls teetered unevenly and items threatened to drop below, and he was trying to keep a wounded Slaypire from lashing out in anger, and possibly burying the both of us. "Thought she'd taken you, pet."
Jade's furious gaze curdled into something softer. She chuckled. "She wouldn't be able to take me anywhere. She's not strong enough for me." She leaned her head forward, touching her nose to the curve of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling him gently.
"You're not healed up," His voice was stern as he froze in place, letting his soulless Slaypire bury her head in his shoulder. And if it had been Jade, his Jade, the move would have melted him. But he was so wracked with guilt and concern and the knowledge that she wouldn't be acting like this, not unless he acted first. Not unless he'd returned to her like he'd said. "You should have waited 'til you were. Basic survival skills, pet."
She growled, but it wasn't an overwhelmingly aggressive sound, more sulky. Teeth, sharp and long touched his skin and he gasped, but she didn't break the skin, nibbling gently before pulling back, her golden eyes meeting his. "Don't need to be healed up. No-one can stop me."
"Shouldn't take risks, anyway," Spike warned her. He wasn't surprised by her recklessness. She often charged blindly into danger, but it had always been at risk for someone else, not as a test to prove her own invincibility. And though his words were careful, the concern behind them was rife. Soul or not, she had to be more careful. It could get her killed…. And that was something still too painful to think about.
"Needed to find you," Jade grumbled, lower lip out in a pout. Her shoulders were slumped, then straightened as she added, brightly, "I picked my vampire name."
He was startled by the change of subject, his brows raising. "Vampire name?" He echoed, although it was a known practice. Peaches the sod had been Liam in his human days, picked Angelus. He didn't know what Darla's name had been before his turning, but in all honesty, he'd never given much of a damn towards that blonde. Never cared, still didn't. And Spike, well. William was a poncy poet. It hadn't contended with his new power, his new invulnerability, his new status. Oh yes. He remembered what it was like, the power coursing through him as it did for Jade now. He'd gotten into fights that he knew might kill him because it was fun.
Oh, God. She was like him in that way, not Angelus. She wasn't conniving and deceptive. She hadn't sent the heads of the Slayers' families to draw them out, or murdered humans until they showed outside. She'd merely forced them outside head on. And she'd fought them even when she didn't have the advantage, when she wasn't at her best and close combat was her weakness. She'd done it anyway. To see if she could.
She was just like him. Her love for him was an obsession that twisted her up inside. That made her act irrationally and impossibly. Except she didn't have a chip to hold her back. She could be the fully dangerous, unstoppable vampire that she was. She couldn't be held back. She was just like him. Miserable and lost and deplorable and sod it all, he didn't know what to do. Willow was still in another plane, and as if the witch and wizard remaining could transfer souls. He didn't have hers, didn't have a way to cage her away until they could deal with her, and even that would break his bloody heart, seeing her locked up like an animal. He couldn't stand it.
"Don't you want to hear it?" Jade prompted, disgruntled that he hadn't answered her with more than a mumble. He nodded, hollowly, and her lips spread into another smile. "Nyx. Goddess of Night and all that. Don't you like it? Spike and Nyx."
He licked his bottom lip, nodding slowly. "'S a fine name. Y'like Greek then?"
"Always liked the myths," She tilted her head to one side, her eyes warming, "We could go there."
"To Greece?" He echoed. Sodding hell, his mind was a mess. He couldn't keep up this nonchalance, like everything was normal. Buffy'd be getting the wounded out of range, and then she'd be back on the hunt. Maybe bringing the Witch and the Wizard with her, and what would come of that, he just could only bloody fear. And maybe the danger was right in front of him.
"Mhm," Jade said. "We could go anywhere." She raised a hand which shook slightly, still marred from the effects of the fall, still not quite healed, and she draped it across his hip and then to his lower back, pulling him closer, though she wasn't quite facing him, her hip to his stomach. "Wouldn't that be nice?"
"You want me wit' you?" He asked, carefully.
She looked at him with a chuckle, frowning. "Of course. I did this all for you."
"For me."
"Yeah. Came here to find you. Couldn't let the others go until you came back… Spike, I haven't changed that much. I'm better."
"Better," He said. He was just repeating what she was saying, the nonsensical statements that made so much sense to her.
"Yes." She frowned, as if he was slow, not getting it. "I'm better now. I'm not getting held back by a billion little frights in my head. Not whining about my situation. Not all, 'oh no, what will they think of me if I do that'. Not little, timid Jade who has no business being with the beautiful, vicious dancer known as Spike. Come on. I was pathetic. Always second-guessing. Letting people go because I'm too merciful. Always thinking about the consequences and piling them on. I'm not afraid. I'm… unstoppable. I'm better."
"You didn't need to get better, pet." He said as evenly as he could, nearly choking on the lump rising in his throat. He'd chastised her on it from time to time, telling her that she was too kind-hearted. How much of it did she take to heart, twisting it and imagining this was what she had to be now?
Jade scoffed. "Of course I did. If I didn't, you'd never get over Buffy. Buffy this and Buffy that, and always her," She snarled deep in her throat, a guttural sound. "Buffy's who's the sun and all that's great and fire. Uncompromising and a right bitch, well, I can top that."
"You never needed to!" Spike snapped back, exasperated.
"Stop talking in the past," Jade hissed back. "I did change, and I'm better for it, and you're not even happy." The fingers on his back dug in deeper, and he cringed.
"'M happy." He sighed, resigned. "Happy 'M here with you now, so you don't hav' to be alone."
Her lips parted into a smile. Her moods shifted so quickly, from anger to happiness, and her hold on him relaxed. "You'll never have to be apart from me again. It can just be the two of us." She said it almost sleepily, pressing her cheek to his solar plexus. He felt himself stiffen as he had when she had neared his neck. She was rife with strength, coursing through every muscle, even her bruised limbs. She could snap him in two. She might, if he kept pushing her. But he had to. He had to help her. Had to nudge her back on course if there was even the slightest chance that he could.
"No-one else?" He asked.
"No-one else," She murmured, her good shoulder leaning into his ribs. "Just you and me. In Greece, and then Italy. Just the two of us. And then…"
"Well, what would we eat, Pet?" Had to remind her. She sounded calm, relaxed. Happy. Sprouting off a happy fantasy, but it wasn't that easy. Spike knew that. She didn't. She'd pushed it from her mind.
"People, of course," She mumbled. "All the people we want."
"I don't wan' to eat people." Bloody hell, if ten years ago someone had told him he'd be saying that, he would have laughed in their face. And then ate them, likely.
She jack-knifed up straight, her eyes narrowed suspiciously again. "Then what would we eat? Animal blood?" She made a viciously disgusted face.
Spike held firm. "That's what I want, pet. I don't want to be killin'."
She gritted her teeth, grinding her large vampire molars against each other. "But that's what we do." She forced out.
"Not me. Not anymore. I haven't changed."
Jade let out an angry scoff, rising to her feet gracefully and angrily. She paced, the edges of her dress whipping around her legs, flared out with the movement. "That's not what vampires—"
"That's what I want. Would you do it?" He sank onto his knees, not quite standing, because he worried she'd just knock him back down again. So he sat there, contrite and humbly smaller, and when her golden eyes looked back at him, they softened.
She chewed on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, crimson drops gathering where the rest had dried. "I don't see why I have to…" She said, still frustrated, torn. She whipped back and forth again, hair falling loosely to the sides of her cheek. "You never accept me!" She shot then, a growl in her throat.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I am who I am, Pet." He looked up at her. "Thought you loved that 'bout me."
She growled again, another pace carrying her across the small space they had among the rubble. "Animal blood is disgusting! Why should I limit myself?"
"Nothin' makin' you." Spike said it as casually as he could. He was torturing her, he knew. But he had to see if it was possible. Had to shake her and turn her upside down. So she'd either give up on him or try to change. Although, her giving up on him could easily end in his death. He knew that. Some of his fingers met the ground, and he shifted them around. Trying to find something in the debris that might give him an edge. Make it easier to apprehend her. It wasn't what he wanted, but maybe he had another choice.
"Well…" She hesitated. She licked up the blood drying on her lip, an inattentive, automatic gesture as she lingered, not moving. "Why should I have to do that for you to accept me?" She snapped again.
"I'll always accept you," Spike answered her back levelly. "Jus' won't be happy. It'll disappoint me, pet."
"Well, it shouldn't!" Jade exclaimed. "I'm a vampire. Don't I get to be a vampire? Finally?"
"You've been a vampire for months."
"That doesn't count," She growled. "Being… like that. Doesn't count." She kicked out angrily, cement and plaster moving in clouds of dust. There was an scraping, and he could almost swear the building was moving. He ran his fingers through his loose, debris-filled hair, ignoring the urge to run. Whatever happened, he stayed where she was. His searching fingers still looked among the ground, and her latest kick had landed more shards his way. He felt it, then a shard of something that wasn't stone, the splinters digging into his skin as he held the wood in his hand.
"Never had a problem with you like that, Pet," Spike said as diplomatically as he could.
"But you did!" Jade snapped back. "You didn't want me."
"Jade…" Spike's heart felt like someone had stabbed it with a plastic stake. And he did know that feeling. This, this part he didn't know if it was his Jade or the demon left in her place.
"It's Nyx," She spat caustically. She paced again. Groaned with frustration, mixed with pain as she glanced down at her wounded shoulder. The flesh was an angry, blistered red, the holy water leaving its mark.
"Let me look, Pet." He asked, softly. She let out an unintelligible grunt, but stomped over to him, kneeling on her own knees before him, a head shorter again. He carefully tore the fabric away, and though she watched the red ribbon of material fall to the ground, she didn't say anything about him wrecking her dress. Was torn up long before he got there. She let out a seething sound as his thumb carefully prodded the burned hole, though it didn't hurt his flesh. The holy water had mostly ran its course, but it'd take a while to heal. He said as much.
"Need blood, then," Jade said with a shrug. "And it'll be fine." She met his eyes, daring him to contradict her. "Don't you agree?"
He stayed silent, skewing up his lips in thought. She followed those lips with her half-lidded gaze, her anger lost in exchange for something more carnal. She seemed to contemplate it for a second, and then she moved forward, crushing his mouth under hers. He leaned back under the ardor of her attack, but her better arm reached around him again, keeping him there. Her lips moved furiously against his, fierce and painful, her teeth nipping at his lips. Blood mixed into their kiss, an iron tang, and there—the faint trace of Slayer blood still resided. She tasted nothing like she had the last time, but he still found his hands had circled her shoulders, by habit, wanting to embrace her, hold her. Her tongue slipped dominantly into his mouth, and he wasn't resisting it, pushing back with equal zeal, slow reluctance giving way to a desire for balance. This was Jade, writhing in his grasp and pulling him to her with a strength that he couldn't fight if he wanted to.
But he knew with a sad reality that this wasn't her. Not completely. She growled into his mouth, a deep, possessive rumble, and the equal playing field displeased her. She pushed him down, following suit to straddle him as his back was pushed into the hard edges of rubble and destruction. She broke contact, letting out a pant that wasn't necessary. He tried to sit back up to follow her, but she kept him down with a hand to his chest. His hands had slipped off of her, pressing flat against the ground instead, to keep him partially upright, and he was reminded of the shard in his fingers by the small prick of pain he felt from it digging into his palm.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it? You like your women rough. Demanding. You don't want to coddle them all the time. Sometimes you just want to be pushed." She clasped her legs tightly around his waist, sinking her weight down into his crotch. She smiled, not a cruel smile, but a malevolent one all the same. "And I can do that now."
He'd been unable to keep himself from kissing her, hoping in his heart that it might help bring her back somehow, that he could communicate what he couldn't with words. But it hadn't done that at all. The Jade who looked back at him now was farther from him than before, blood smeared on her red lips, staring at him with an unconcealed lust that unsettled him. Not that he hadn't looked at her with the same desire, though he'd always smothered it. While he was with Buffy, he was with Buffy. If anything, he was loyal.
There was a voice in his head that reminded him he wasn't with Buffy anymore. That the woman pinning him down was still one he cared for. But he wasn't that naïve. Couldn't be, not with her. She wasn't in her right mind—her right soul, really. All he could think was how his Jade would be feeling now. He'd never accuse her of being unpassionate, but she wouldn't be like this, demanding. She would be horrified, he knew. Horrified to think she was taking advantage of him, so he had to make her stop. He held up his empty hand, touching it to her stomach to stop as she leaned in once more.
"Don't," He said, tone hoarse. "Jade…"
Her scowl deepened, golden eyes half lidded with hurt, but covered with anger. "I told you. I'm not Jade. I'm better than I ever was." She tightened her thighs around him, moving purposefully as she batted his hand away, off of her stomach. "Come on. Did I ever turn you on this much before? Why would I?" She looked down at him, smiling at the reaction her friction had caused, his jeans too tight around him, and she pressed so close, she could feel every change. "I'd never make you this hard before, no, I'd have to stop pretending I've become a nun, stop hiding that I want to touch you all the time."
"Ger'off," He said, not as demanding as he intended, but more desperate. She laughed it off, one of her hands reaching lazily for his belt, deftly undoing the buckle and shifting her attention to the button of his jeans.
"Why should I?" She asked haughtily. "Do you know how long I've wanted this? And now I can. Because I'm—"
"Better?" Spike returned, understanding leaking out of his tone. He had no patience for anyone belittling Jade. To look at her mercies as a weakness, to taunt her soft-heartedness, to berate her altruism. Not a bloody person could get away with that. Not even Jade herself. "Y'think you're better, pet?"
The hand at his crotch stilled, and she tilted her head to one side, looking pained and irate. "Of course I am," She said, but her tone was uncertain now, not scathing. Spike rested his head back on the rubble, feeling the edges dig into his scalp. Some bloody pillow. Then… he saw something. It was only a flicker, a shadow. Help had come, then? He had to keep her distracted. For her sake as well as his.
"Think you're stronger, now, yeah? 'Cause you don't have to make allowances, don' have to hold back? Think you're the big bad because you have no control? No. You're just like every other power-hungry, newly turned fledgling. You have no smarts. You're going to get yourself killed, running in headfirst."
She licked her bottom lip, wiping the last of their shared blood away. He could see she was shaken, hurt. Good. He hated to do it to her, but at least he still had an effect on her. He hoped it'd be enough. "I have control." She said it stubbornly, like a child.
"Why'd you kill those children then, pet? The orphans?"
He wanted her to deny it. Deny every awful thing he'd heard that she'd done, and take back everything he'd seen before his own eyes. He begged. Prayed to the God he hadn't believed in a long, long time. That somehow it was someone else, anyone else. That it wasn't her. That she'd shake her head and look at him like he was crazy, come up with a perfectly reasonable explanation. God, he wanted that so badly. Wanted her so badly, and not like this. The way she bore down on him, even injured, all the power was hers. Though her hold had tightened somewhat, she still sat upright on him, and there was no escape. She could take anything she wanted. And this was Jade, and Hell knew that gentlemen or not, there'd been times he'd slipped. Imagined this. Jade, instead of Buffy, and he shouldn't have but his dreams taunted him of their own accord, and he'd thought about it when they were in the shower, the skin she'd shown then. He'd wanted her, but he denied it, for Buffy. Now, he denied it for Jade's own sake. If she ever came back from this… he couldn't let it happen. Couldn't stop her either, but he could distract her. And hope.
She shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, but not proud. A frown flickered in her ridged brow. "Because."
"'Cause why? You know what I am. I got that pesky soul y'hate so bloody much. Said it held you back. Well mine's goin' to hold m'back, and there's nothing I can do about it, can I? So there's nothing for us, Pet, not a thing."
"No," The sound burst vehemently from her throat, a desperate tinge to it. "There's… I could work on it. Just fight the ones that wronged me… that wouldn't be too much, would it?" She looked forlorn, despondent almost, a lost look in her golden eyes.
"Why'd you kill the orphans? Lisa? Rachel? The lit'l kiddies you swore you cared nothin' for, yet still popped by to give 'em sweets and tell 'em stories of better days, and tell em they'd be great wiccans one day if that's what they wanted. Why?" He broke her reverie, made her think. He wanted guilt to cross her face, wanted it to pain her. Hoped it still would.
Her expression contorted. "Because I could!" She snapped. "Because… because I saved them. I saved them, and I hate children. Always have. Never got to be one. Because they were there. Because I was angry."
"You had no reason," Spike said, his voice cold. Tried to make it like steel so it wouldn't break, so she didn't see that this hurt him even more than it hurt her. "You're a soulless, evil thing." How many times had he been told this? Well it hadn't quite hurt like a bitch then, since it'd been true, hadn't it? Still, the words were sour in his mouth. Always bloody telling him that he hadn't been worth anything because he didn't have a sodding soul. And now he was repeating the words. 'Cause he had to.
"And you're not even half the woman you were before, and I will never want you like this." He'd seen the shadow again. First time, it had perched at the top of the roof, and now it was closer, still above them. He couldn't make it out. Someone to save them both, he could only bloody hope. But he couldn't focus on it as Jade shook with barely contained anger, her hand pressed to his chest. There wasn't all the strength there, like she would be at her best. Everything, from being captured by Elijah and Kern, to whatever she had been through the last days, to now had taken their toll on her.
He wondered if he could take her. Her legs were still pinning him down, he had two usable arms compared to her one. Maybe. For long enough. If he had to.
He met her golden eyes. He'd told her, again and again that her vamp face didn't bother him. That bloody hell, he'd been a demon for how long, and though he couldn't exactly look into a mirror and see himself, he was plenty used to it. He'd loved Dru's faces, both of them. Golden eyes and fangs had never filled him with shivers down to his skivvies. Wasn't exactly frightening to him, or even disturbing. But now, the appearance of her full-vamped face unnerved him. Easier to focus on them as two separate entities when he didn't see Jade's blue eyes gazing back at him. He knew they were the same person—mostly, but he could separate them like this. The undeniable fear that he felt creeping into his spine as the pressure increased on him again, the fingers creeping towards his neck, he could point that at the golden eyed 'Nyx', not his Jade.
"You would have never loved me before," She hissed back, but the anger in her voice was heavily weighed down by a melancholic edge she couldn't quite cover. "Doesn't how many I kill, or didn't. As long as there's Buffy." Her eyes narrowed then, depression being covered by deviousness. "I guess I'll just have to kill the competition then."
He stiffened, and her mouth curled into a cruel smile. "And that's not a new impulse. I'll kill Buffy and then you—"
"Won' change a thing," He said as firmly as he could, as sternly as he could manage. He saw the shadow again. Closer. "Even if she's gone, Pet. Won' be turning to you."
She growled in hurt anger. She slammed her hand down on his chest, and he let out a pained huff as he felt something crack, but it lacked the punch that could have broken a lot more. "Then I'll just take it," She said. "And you'll be the pathetic one, and I'll be free."
The fingers at his chest pulled at his shirt, ripping it down the front. His pale alabaster skin was red where she had hit him, and a few bruises still showed among his chest, wounds that hadn't quite healed. She made a rumbly sound in her chest as her hand went back to his pants. He reached for her with a calm grace, both hands against her one, and she snarled, smacking one hand back so that his arm hit the rubble hard, and he groaned, "Bloody hell."
"Don't move," She said with false sweetness, hitting his head against the rock so hard he saw stars, his jaw throbbing as he blinked, momentarily threw.
But he had one hand left, and the shadow was behind her now, its movements so fast and hard to track. One last distraction, and he curled the shard of wood he still had left in his fingers. He'd never meant to use it. Threaten her with it maybe. Or spare her from something worse, but now he took the splinter of wood and raised it towards her chest. She intercepted it of course, he knew she would. He'd risen it slowly, and she had time to take her hands from his crotch to catch his wrist. She stared at the makeshift stake in his hand.
Absolutely devastation crossed her face, wounded at his betrayal. I'd never use it, he told her silently. Bloody never, but she didn't know that, didn't see who was behind her. But Spike did, and now that his eyes could actually focus on who it was, a shock rippled through his body, followed by a helplessness. Bloody hell, it wasn't who he'd expected at all. Hoping, maybe, in the last second that Willow had woken from her mojoed kip and come to save them all. But it was her, and what was she here for, to gloat? But Jade's eyes weren't the only ones filled with dismay, a real, heart-broken gaze stared at him from behind Jade as the golden eyes before him turned to hatred.
And then there was a snap as she twisted his hand brutally, and his wrist erupted in white-hot pain, and he yelled from the agony of it, at her mercy. As he'd been for a long, long while.
"You would have killed me?" She sputtered with indignation, aggrieved and now malevolent. "I'll tear your arms off." She growled viciously. "I'll kill every last one of them, and then I'll kill you last. Or maybe not." She held the shard down to his chest, above his left nipple, towards his heart. Would she do it? His mind reeled. Either way, her attention was diverted. "I was weak then. I was in love with you, I wanted you, but I'd never be able to get you. I was pathetic. I won't be now. I'm stronger than I ever was."
"Please!" He choked out. She was standing there, and she had to act. And though he hadn't counted on her help, had signed it off with a heavy heart, now all his hope was on her, that he'd done it. That what he'd done had been enough.
Jade pushed down. The Shadow moved. Spike moved to clench the hand over his heart with his aching but unbroken hand. Jade moved her head, confused, nearly aware.
"No, Jade," He coughed, and her golden eyes turned back to him. "She wasn't ever weak. And you aren't stronger than her. 'Cause she's here."
She frowned and then the Shadow was there, behind her, and the light that the shadow hid was now for all to see, a shining medallion. Jade roared as Spike held her arm down, and though she tried to swing her useless one, the Shadow's were stronger. Not a Shadow, but the Mok'Tagar Demon.
Lythia'l, her eyes blazing demon-blue, determined. But now he fell dread rippled through him—bloody hell, what if she wasn't here to help? What if she'd come to finish the job, and kill Jade? And he'd helped make her weak, helped betray her 'cause he'd been hoping, wanting, but what if he just signed her bloody death warrant, and no, no, no, he couldn't do that, and since when did he expect that bitch's help anyway, and Jade's arms, both the one tainted by holy water and the one he tried to hold down were tied up, and she was completely at the Mok'Tagar's mercy, and he wouldn't bloody trust her—couldn't! Not with Jade's life in the balance, so he released the arm he'd been trying to hold back, and Jade took to it gleefully, swinging 'round to hit the Mok'Tagar, and the demon stumbled, shouting, and Spike tried to—bloody—get up, but he was still held down by Jade's legs, who was just as determined to fight off her attacker as she was to keep him still, and he was a prisoner, and the demon had stumbled, knees to the rubble, but she was still holding onto Jade, and she looked at Spike and yelled.
"Trust me, you idiot!"
And he couldn't. Couldn't trust that she'd be more likely to help Jade then just stick a stake in her, but then he remembered that it was Jade's soul hanging on the neck, something he most bloody definitely hated the demon for, but it was her soul, her goodness, she was the light at every tunnel, and he'd always trusted Jade, so he had to help her, and as one hand broke free of Lythia'l's grip and moved to the demon's neck instead, and as Jade swung up her good arm to strike at the demon for all she was worth, Spike grabbed at her, pulling her off balance, and he didn't get to see what happened next, because Jade moved her elbow and socked him in the chin, and his head snapped back to smack into the rubble like before, except harder this time, brutally, and he heard a crunch, and the world slipped away from him, into darkness.