Chapter Twenty
She was angry. Angrier than she had ever been. Her heart was pounding, her blood boiling in her veins. She wanted to kill him. She was going to kill him. It was right. It was time.
Buffy burst into the crypt, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. The sound barely registered through the turmoil in her brain.
He was sitting in the chair in front of her. Now he was standing, staring at her. "Shoulda known it's you. Been nearly six hours."
Six hours? What the hell was he talking about? She didn't care. She pulled the stake from her back pocket and walked toward him, determination in her stride. "I'm done Spike. You're a killer. And I shoulda done this years ago."
His eyes locked with hers and he stared back defiantly. "You know what? Do it. Bloody just do it."
"What?"
"End . . . my . . . torment. Seeing you, every day, everywhere I go, every time I turn around. Take me out of a world that has you in it!" He pulled off his shirt and threw it to the ground. "Just kill me!"
Buffy stared back at him slightly in shock. She had been to his crypt so many times over the years, but this? This she didn't remember. It was all new to her. He wanted her to kill him. She wanted to kill him. But she couldn't.
Buffy could already feel her blood begin to sing. A dizzying hum was spreading through her body, buzzing through her veins at an alarming rate. He was breathing heavy, his eyes alive with an unbearable fire. He was so close, so beautiful. She just wanted to reach out and touch him.
She couldn't. She had to do what she had come for. She had to kill him.
Buffy pulled back the stake and took a step toward him. She was ready. She would do it. She would.
He was staring down at her. His eyes searching hers. He was fighting it too. They both were. She couldn't give in. She had to kill him.
She was breathing hard now. She couldn't hold out any longer. She dropped the stake and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him to her. She kissed him hard.
Buffy's mind was racing. Oh God, what was wrong with her? She wanted him. Oh God how desperately she wanted him.
She slid her hands down to his waist and Spike moved to take her by the arms, drawing her closer. She didn't want it to stop. She didn't ever want it to stop.
He ravaged her mouth with his own, devouring her whole. Buffy was lost, her mind a hazy fog. Nothing mattered but what she was feeling, but what Spike was doing to her.
He lowered his head to kiss her neck, instinctively finding the pulse there, throbbing under her skin. "Buffy, I want you," he whispered against her throat as he continued to kiss her.
"Spike, I love you." The words poured from her lips unchecked. "God I love you so much."
Instantly Buffy awoke. She sat bolt upright in bed. Her heart was thundering in her chest, her skin covered in a cold sweat. She was panting.
In love with Spike? Oh God. She could hear herself saying it, over and over again in her head, "Spike, I love you." The words reverberating through her skulls.
She was trembling; her limbs shaking, her pulse racing. She tried to slow her breathing but couldn't. What was she going to do? She had denied it for so long, was it really true?
Reaching beside her, she grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest. Leaning back against the headboard, she began to cry.
It was true. Oh God, it was true. She loved Spike. She did. In spite of everything, when it came down to it, she loved him.
Damn that evil African demon! That's what the dreams had been about all along, hadn't they? She deserved Spike, could only ever find happiness with him. Damn soul-searching dreams! She couldn't deny it any longer.
He wanted to die by her hand. She had the power of life or death over him. It was time she told him the truth. Time she faced her feelings and her fears and let him in. She had to save Spike, from her and from himself. She loved him, she knew that now. Now she just had do something about it.