Key To My Heart – Chapter Nine

Spike POV

I walked into Willies and looked around. Some of the demons gave me dirty looks. One of them, a baclar, started to get up, but his friend put a clawed hand on his shoulder. The demon looked around and his friend shook his head. He sat down and glared at me. "Later," he mouthed. I gave him the finger and swaggered up to the bar.

"What'll it be tonight Spike?" Willie asked.

"Virgin if you've got it."

"Sorry pal, fresh outta virgin's blood."

I sighed. "Fine. I'll have a glass of the freshest blood you've got."

"Comin' right up." Willie placed a glass in front of me an' filled it with blood. I took a sip. A bit stale, but okay. Tasty enough. Still, it's just not the same as drinking the blood fresh out of a screaming terrified victim. Oh well. At least it's human. I drained half the glass then looked for Willie. He was at the other end of the bar talking to a mo-rak demon. "Oi Willie!"

"Just a sec," he said to the mo-rak. "Yeah?" he asked, coming over. I tapped my glass.

"Top this up with a bit of vodka will you?" He nodded, and did it. I stared at my drink. I like Willie. Before the chip, he'd always treated me with respect. Course, he'd had to then, hadn't he? I was Spike, William The Bloody, Scourge Of Europe, Vampire Master, and Ruler of the Hellmouth. The Big Bad. If he hadn't shown me respect, I would have hung his entrails on the streetlights like party streamers. But after the chip…he still treated me with respect, even became a sort of friend. I smirked. And the little bugger was still a bit scared of me.

Over two and a half hours later, I was well and truly pissed. Thoughts of Buffy drifted through my mind. Shit. I've done nothing but think of her! I started singing bits and pieces of that old Sex Pistols song 'My Way'. What I could remember of it anyway. Always makes me feel better.

"But now, the tears subside, I find it all so amusing. I've had my fill, my share of looting. But more, much more than this, I did it my way. For what is a brat, what has he got? When he cannot…"

"Nice song," someone growled behind me.

I turned around, and something hard hit my face. I fell to the ground and looked up. It was the baclar from the bar. Shit. I stood up. "Listen mate, I don't want any trouble. Not tonight at least."

He snarled. "Yeah, well you should have thought about that when you helped that Slayer bitch kill my son."

I blinked. "Your son?"

"YEAH MY SON! I HAD TO DRAG HIM OUT OF SOME FUCKIN' CEMERTERY! IN PIECES!"

He stamped his foot onto my chest. I vamped, growled, and got up. "Look mate, I don't know what the bloody hell you're on about. I haven't killed any baclar, let alone your bleedin' hellspawn. Can't speak for the Slayer though. It's your fault anyway. Slayer's just doing her job. Should have taught him to stay out of her way."

He swiped at my face. I tried to block it, but I was too drunk. Four claws dug into my temple and were dragged down my face. "AAAHHHHH!" I jerked away and glared at the baclar. He took a step towards me. I bared my fangs and hissed. The baclar stopped. "Do you know who I am?" I growled. "I could kill you in seconds."

The baclar sneered. "Yeah, I know who you are. The famous William The Bloody. 'Cept, you're not him no more, you know? Now you're just some overgrown flea who has to hide behind the Slayer, and bare his teeth like some mangy cat instead of fighting like a real demon!"

I'm starting to sober up. Vampire immune system's breaking the booze up already. Still a bit wobbly, will be for the next half hour. But steady enough. I can take 'im.

I growled. "I'm demon enough to take you, but I'll give you a chance. Walk away." I didn't want him to walk away though. I didn't think that he would, but just to make sure…

I smirked and took a step towards him. "Unless, of course, you want to end up like your boy."

The baclar howled and lunged at me. I grinned and dodged out of the way. The baclar spun around and swiped at my face. I jerked my head back a split second before he could touch me. I dropped down and kicked his legs out from under him. He clawed at me again. I grabbed his hand and bared my teeth, growling. He tried to pull his hand back, but I held on. I bent my head down, opened my mouth and bit into his fingers. My fangs were sharp enough to go through the flesh, and were strong enough to go through the bone. That done, I stat out the fingers and the demon blood that'd gotten in my mouth. The baclar screamed. He got up and tried to run, but I wanted him dead. I grabbed his arm and threw him to the floor. I jumped on him, pinning him. My fist's hit him over and over again, dazing him. I grabbed his head and searched for that weak spot in the back of the skull. I found it, bared my teeth again, and bit down. More blood shot into my mouth. I stood put and spat it out, and looked down at the dead baclar. His words played through my head. "The famous William the Bloody. 'Cept, you're not him no more, you know? Now you're just some overgrown flea who has to hide behind the Slayer, and bare his teeth like some mangy cat instead of fighting like a real demon!"

He's right. I'm not me anymore. I remembered that time in LA when I'd hired Marcus to torture Angel to get the ring of Amarah. "He has a soul. And he's in love."

"Yeah, with a Slayer no less. Talk about perversion."

I sighed. Did I still think it was perverse? No. Yes. I don't know. It's so easy to blame all this on the chip. But is it the chip? My little man-made Jiminy Cricket.

So who am I now? What am I? I wish I could be a vampire again.