BUFFY, THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
William The Bloody, Chapter 5
"Kiss Your Life Goodbye"
Cordelia leaned back in her chair, holding a cold wash cloth over her forehead and eyes, and tried to relax. The throbbing pain of the vision was diminishing, but the shock of what she had seen, of the image of all of those people slaughtered, was still with her, gripping her heart with fear. That Spike was at the center of that slaughter was all the more unnerving, especially since last they had heard, Spike had been neutralized by computer chip placed in his head.
Deciding that there was only one person that would be able to answer the questions running through her mind, Cordelia picked up the phone and punched in the number for Giles' store. When she got a recording that the number was out of service, Cordelia became a bit worried, and quickly dialed up Buffy's number.
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service…" droned the automated voice.
Xander's number.
"The number you have…"
Willow's number.
"Hello?" answered a woman's somber voice.
"Mrs. Rosenberg? This is Cordelia Chase, a friend of Willow's from high school. Is Willow there by chance?"
The phone was silent.
"Mrs. Rosenberg?"
"I…I'm sorry, Cordelia," said Mrs. Rosenberg in a shaky voice. "Willow and several of her friends were…were… We buried her yesterday."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Rosenberg, I am so sorry," stammered Cordelia, trying to keep her voice steady. "What happen? Which friends?"
"Buffy Summers, and Xander. And that nice man they worked for, Gilbert I think his name was."
"Giles? Rupert Giles?"
"Yes, that's it," said Mrs. Rosenberg. "Cordelia Chase, yes, I remember you. Oh, Cordelia, it was so awful. So many of them were killed."
"What happened?"
The phone line went dead.
"Hello? Mrs. Rosenberg? Hello?" spoke Cordelia into the phone, knowing right away whose line had been disconnected; she no longer had a dial tone.
Cordelia froze as the door opened, a cold breeze blowing in as if in premonition as to what was come, and her eyes darted to a bundle of stakes laying atop a near by filing cabinet.
"Allo, my pretty," came an all too familiar voice. "Kind of late to be bothering people with a call on the Tele now, isn't it?"
Cordelia slowly turned around, her heart thundering in her ears, and gasped at the bloody image before her. Spike was coated with the coppery substance, his shirt and jacket actually dripping wet with blood, and he stood there quietly, smiling with blood stained teeth. There was a sharp edge to his eyes that Cordelia remembered having seen before, long ago when Spike had tried to Angelus and Buffy.
"You're not welcome here," snarled Cordelia through clenched teeth.
"It is a place of business, is it not?" asked Spike, cocky as ever. "You have your open sign in the window."
Cordelia's eyes darted to the window, cursing the fact that sign had never been turned around, and looked back at Spike, startled that he was now directly in front of the desk.
"It's and open invitation, Love."
"During normal business hours," she retorted. "Why don't you come back by around nine, hmm? AM that is. When the sun's up."
Spike's arm lashed out and his hand wrapped around her neck, his vice-like grip nearly strangling her, and he pulled her atop the desk so that her face was mere inches from his.
"I should have killed the lot of you years ago," snarled Spike, his face vamping out. "But I guess it's better later than never."
Spike pulled her over the desk and slammed her to the floor, nearly knocking her out, then dropped down on top of her, straddling her waist and using his knees to pin her hands. He smiled at her briefly, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and then turned her head to the side to expose her neck.
He drank deeply, relishing in the sweet taste of her blood, and he thought of draining her completely. He finally pulled away from her, forcing himself to stop before he killed her, and basked in the hot rush that was running through him. No, he wasn't going to kill her outright, he had plans for her that required her turning, and he wasn't going to wait three days for her to rise from the dead.
Using one of his claws to slice his own wrist, Spike pressed the bleeding wound over Cordelia's mouth and massaged her throat to make her swallow the amber liquid. This way would turn her far more quickly, practically within minutes, and would leave her far more competent than one of those clumsy vampires that is made from being completely drained.
She would be nearly an equal.
She would be a tool.
She would be his path to the others and, ultimately, to Angel.
She would be his new Dru.
To Be Continued…