AN - Just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed - I am so glad that you are enjoying the story. For those of you that questioned what W & H were up to with regards to Angel's soul, just remember the Shansu prophecy cos that is going to play a major role. Well enough from me. Read, enjoy and review! Thanks x
Chapter 13 – Nursery Rhymes and Reasons
Angel came too slowly. He felt dizzy. His vision was blurry, all he could make out were blurry shapes. He shut his eyes again, the light stung them. He could still smell the chloroform. His mouth felt furry and he desperately wanted a glass of water. He felt sick, he hadn't felt sick for two hundred years but he remembered the nauseous feeling and lump in the back of the throat. He swallowed it down and winced at the pain that caused his dry throat. He became very aware of an incessant tapping on his face and a weight over his thighs. His eyelids were heavy and it took too long to open them and focus. The light still stung them but he kept them open this time. He needed to know what was happening. He refused to think about the coil of panic that was settling in his belly. There were too many things to think about. Slowly he realised that the weight on his legs was actually a woman.
"Lilah…"
"Hey there baby. How do you feel?"
Lilah had to admit, sitting on Angel's lap; well there were worse places she could think of. She ran her fingers through his hair and rotated her hips a little. She might as well enjoy it whilst she could. He was as weak as a kitten.
"What… where…"
"Two excellent questions Angel. I don't believe we've had the pleasure, Holland Manners. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Lilah?"
Lilah reluctantly moved from her position straddling Angel's hips. She stood and tossed a sweet smile to Holland. It promised pain. Holland pulled up a chair and set it front of Angel. From his position on the floor, all that Angel could see were Holland's impeccable Italian loafers and his knobbly knees carefully hidden under stylish Gucci pants. He didn't have the energy to shift his position to try to see his face.
"I'm sure that you are curious as to why you're here. I'm sorry what was that?"
He leaned down so that he could hear what Angel's raw and scratchy throat was trying to tell him. Angel looked up to see and oldish man; that if he hadn't had Wolfram and Hart stamped on his forehead, would have seemed like the friendly granddad type. He tried again.
"…not… really…"
Holland laughed. "I was told that you were stubborn. I'm glad that you live up to your reputation. I'd have thought that being human would have cowed you somewhat. I'm glad it hasn't. Anyway, we have a little problem. You see, we need you as a vampire. The whole Darla project, well it wasn't one of our best." Holland rose and began pacing round the little room.
Angel tuned him out, he really wasn't that interested in what Wolfram and Hart wanted from him at the moment. He also didn't care about how they had ruined their precious Darla project. He heard Holland say something about him being a vampire but was more interested in finding out where he was and seeing if there was some way for him to get out. From what he could see and feel, he was in a room with a cold concrete floor and a glass ceiling. He was obviously high up as he couldn't see the glare from the street lamps wherever they were and he was able to see the stars. He hadn't really looked at them in a while, not since his garden in Sunnydale. God, he missed the simplicity of that. There was nothing else, only the smell of manure, which gave him no real clue as to where he was. He was obviously in a plant nursery as the thick cloying scent of wet earth hung in the air but that didn't help him much.
His concentration was abruptly brought back to the matter at hand by the sound of a door opening and a muffled voice was heard, obviously trying to yell against a gag. He had gagged too many people not to recognise the sounds. He tried to roll himself on to his stomach so that he could see more, but having duck tape binding his hands and feet inhibited his movement greatly. He tried to sit up but the nausea forced him back down. A woman was shoved into the chair that Holland had vacated. He could tell it was a woman by her dainty ankles and the painted toe nails. And the sandals that…
Oh God – it was Darla!
"Lindsay, how did it go…"
They had Darla; Lindsay had taken Darla from the hotel. Bastard! He was going to kill the little shit! But why? Why had they both been snatched? What did Wolfram and Hart want with them? What did they have to gain from two former vampires? Some weird experiment? What were they going to…
"Ah Drusilla, you look lovely."
Oh no…
Darla had totally stilled when she had seen Angel, bound and dumped on the floor. He looked ill and so helpless. She had then started struggling frantically. Unfortunately she was bound tightly and for a small man Lindsay was remarkably strong. She had kicked, with both feet and squirmed for all she was worth, but he hadn't let her go. He had just dumped her in the chair that towered over Angel. She hadn't dared move then. There was a look in Lindsay's eye that indicated that they were both in real danger and that Angel would be the one that would suffer should she step out of line.
This was too much.
She couldn't keep doing this. Five days ago Angel had been in hospital and badly injured. Now he was still healing and tied up on a hard stone floor. An unexpected wave of fear washed over her. Darla was hardly ever afraid. Was this how all of their victims had felt? Was this how the gypsy girl had felt when Darla had caught her, bound her, gagged her and presented her to Angelus as if she were a trophy? They had done this to so many people, so many times, wasn't it justice that it was finally done to them? Well not to Angel. He had suffered, he had been to Hell, and he had tried to atone. He didn't deserve to be here. He didn't deserve to be lying on that cold floor. Darla felt a tear track down her face. She hardy ever cried, and now she was crying for Angel. Crying because he didn't deserve to be here. He didn't deserve to suffer Lindsay's insane jealousy. He didn't…
Oh God… Drusilla.
Darla felt her heart stop in its chest. Her mouth went dry and her tongue suddenly felt too large for her mouth. The tears started to fall faster as she realised what was going to happen. She could tell from the slight moan that Angel had realised too. Never before had she felt as helpless, not even as a whore dying of syphilis. Now not only was she going to die and become a monster again but so too was Angel. He was going to become that which he had come to hate more than anything in the world, just as he had freed himself from it. He had died for her and now he was going to become a vampire because of her. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.
Both of them had finally felt true happiness. They both had a real family in the LA gang, a home at the hotel and the potential for good lives. Lives filled with love and laughter and Darla knew beyond a doubt that Angel at least deserved that. Now it was about to be torn from them. Ripped violently away with their souls, by a pair of razor sharp ivory fangs. A pair of fangs that belonged to an insane demon. Their insane demon. They had made her. She was a product of their evil, Darla had chosen her and Angelus had destroyed her and the demon that came after was a work of art. Was this karma? Was this the only fate that they deserved? If it was then she was going to fight it every step of the way. She did not want to die.
She looked down at the only part of Angel that she could see; his legs and made a promise to him and to herself. She wanted to live – more than she had ever done in her existence. When the Master had come for her all those years ago, accepting what he had offered was easy. She had no friends, no family, no one to mourn her loss. She was a whore, she was damned anyway – she might as well make a pact with the devil and ensure that her damnation was worth it. This time though, she had everything to live for. She had Angel. She loved him so very much and whilst he didn't return her affections in the manner that she would have hoped, whilst she knew that their time was over, she also knew that he loved her too. He had given up his life for her. She wasn't about to betray him now by giving up her life without a fight. Dru was going to have to put in a lot of work to take Darla this time. She was going to fight for her soul, for her life and for her Angel. And if she did turn? Wolfram and Hart would wish that they had never heard the name Darla. They would die horribly for hurting her boy – for stealing his redemption.
She hoped that thought was enough. That he would know that she wanted to live and that she was sorry for all of this. She hoped that he could feel how sorry she was that he got dragged into all of this. She hoped that he knew that she loved him. It was all that she had left – hope that Angel knew her well enough to know that she was more than grateful for everything that he had done for her. He had saved her soul. She bit back her tears and turned her attention to her errant Grand Childe.
Drusilla stood in the doorway looking as ethereal and willowy as she ever did. Her dark, raven locks tumbled around her shoulders in more of a wave than the Victorian ringlet that she had favoured. Her dress had also changed. She still wore flowing clothes, a long skirt and a calf length coat, but they were in a rich purple. Not a colour that Darla had ever associated her with. The delicate maroon bodice that she wore under the coat was the only item of clothing that reminded Darla of the Victorian girl that she had been, and the strange combination of old and new clothing made her all the more alluring. She looked every inch the 'dark, wicked plum' that Angelus had always described her as. Her creamy white skin made her big doe eyes stand out even further. She looked innocent. She looked like a china doll dressed up in her mother's clothes. There was nothing of the crazed monster that she was present in her appearance – it was only visible in one place and only for the people that knew her well enough. Her dark eyes held all the secrets of the world in them, all the secrets of pain and darkness. What worried Darla though was the fact that those eyes no longer held the fragile insanity that they always had. They were still mad but they held the cruel and calculating gleam of competence. Dru knew why she was here. She knew what she was doing. She was more dangerous now than she had ever been.
"Ooo, look, my pretty pets. Grandmummy and Daddy are gone. Flitted and flew away on little wings." Dru ran her pink tongue along perfectly white teeth. "But they'll come back again. We'll be a family again."
She clapped her hands like a little child and laughed her musical laugh. Darla watched as she danced her way over to them, humming and twirling to a music that only she could hear. Dru lived in the permanent twilight of insanity. She constantly walked in the shadowed land between childhood and adulthood and she would never escape that. They had put her there. They had forced her mind back to a time of innocence and safety and then locked it away forever in the body of a young woman.
"Why so sad Grandmummy? Is it because the nasty rag won't let you talk? Well if you're a good girl I'll take it off. Miss Edith says that I'm you're new mummy. You'll like that."
Dru smiled at Darla and leaned over. She brushed a kiss over her new daughter's forehead and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tracing her manicured finger lightly over the planes of Darla's face.
"My pretty Daughter. Miss Edith is jealous because I have a new Princess. If she doesn't behave she won't be coming to the party."
She kissed Darla again and then reached down and grabbed a handful of Angel's hair. She hauled him to his feet and then slightly off the ground. "You'll make a lovely new play mate for my Spike. Daddy is now my little boy. I am going to be a wicked mummy pet. I am going to beat you and whip you and make you scream. Just like you did to me."
Darla's heart broke as she saw the look of anguish that flittered over Angel's face. She was amazed though when he stilled his features to a mask worthy of the greatest poker player. She watched as Dru lowered him to the ground, allowing him to stand on his own feet. He had obviously been lying down for a while as his legs buckled but Dru held him firm and crushed him to her body.
"Poor kitty needs his mummy already. Look at you, so pretty. Mmm pretty baby." Dru proceeded to pull him into a violent kiss, practically raping his mouth. She had a firm grip on his jaw, squeezing it until he whimpered when he tried to turn away. When she finally let go there were red finger imprints on his skin. She pushed him back to the floor, but he managed to end up on his knees, as if waiting for the guillotine to fall.
Dru circled the pair of them like prey. Her eyes were now golden and wild, but the rest of her was still human. She paused and ran her fingers through Angel's hair. "Silky, like rabbit's fur. Want to be my bunny?" Her gentle petting turned harsh as she grabbed a handful of hair and dragged him up towards her mouth. She gave his neck a quick nip with blunt, human teeth and then moved to his ear, nibbling all the way. "Psst… want to know a secret? Lindsay wants Grandmummy. Do you think that he'll get her?"
When Angel didn't reply Dru hissed and slapped him hard across the cheek. "Mummy wants you to talk. Tell mummy what you think."
She started her petting of Angel's hair again. He glanced at Darla and offered her a weak smile before turning and glaring at Lindsay. "Darla has better taste than that tiny Texan." Dru laughed and kept petting his hair.
"Ooh, I think that my boy doesn't like you. I think that he'll eat your eyeballs. Snap snap."
She clicked her fingers and moved away from Angel and Darla. She began to pace round the room. If she were a sane person on might have assumed that she was inspecting the room. But it was Dru. She was doing what the stars told her to. She walked up to the humans and inhaled their fear. Lilah really didn't like her, which made Dru move closer to her.
"Are you ready yet?" Lindsay couldn't stand this waiting. He knew that Dru did things her way, but they had a lot to get through before the night was over and every second wasted meant that something could go wrong.
"Lindsay, please. I apologise Drusilla, he's just nervous. Is everything to your satisfaction?" Holland shot Lindsay a vicious glare. The vampire was too temperamental to talk to like that. They could all die here.
"He's an eager puppy, ruff ruff! Wants his bone and bed right now. The stars say that everything is ready. That I'm ready to be a mummy!"
She clapped her hands like an eager child. She turned to her victims and missed Holland motioning for Special Ops to surround the room. He wasn't going to risk anything. No one was getting into this room without them knowing about it. Dru looked between Angel and Darla and pointed a finger at them in turn.
"Little boy must let the ladies go first. It's only polite after all. Come to mummy."
She pulled Darla too her and brushed the blonde hair away from her neck. Darla was shaking and hiccupping behind the gag. Tears were streaking their way down her face. She looked at Angel and saw him finally broken. Tears tracked down his cheeks and he couldn't even find his voice to try to stop what was going to happen. He had lost all hope. The weight of the world had finally brought Atlas to his knees. Unable to look at Darla he turned his head away and closed his eyes, as if he thought that would prevent it from happening. Darla wanted to scream when she say Lindsay grab Angel's hair roughly forcing him to watch what was happening. The malicious smile that curved on Lindsay's face ensured that he would be the first to die when Darla rose. Angel gave a painful whimper and his eyes met Darla's one last time.
She saw the world in those chocolate orbs. She saw love and fear, anger and pity; she saw a thousand apologies for things that weren't even his fault. But mostly there was love. Darla saw that he loved her and he was sorry that he couldn't save her. He was broken by that very fact. He'd have to watch another person he loved die. Unable to bear the look in his eyes Darla shut her own, wanting the last thing that she saw to be something good. She prayed that this wouldn't happen, she knew it would. She prayed Dru would fail and that she wouldn't rise. But mostly, she prayed that Dru would be stopped before she could do this to Angel. He didn't deserve to die like this. He deserved to die after a long and happy life, surrounded by his friends and family – not in a cold greenhouse with only his enemies to watch him pass.
Then came the white heat of sharp fangs slipping delicately into her flesh, unwilling to waste a single drop of her blood. It wasn't painful and it wasn't pleasurable, it was the tightrope between the two. It hadn't felt like this with the Master because she was so near to death anyway and it was only pleasure when you were a vampire. When you were a vampire feeding and being fed off was the ultimate experience and one that she had only really shared with Angelus. He had been that good at it that she had been brought to orgasm many times by his fangs. Penetration took so many different meanings when you were a vampire. She felt her heart swell and a tugging start as the blood was drawn from her system. She saw images of her past swirling around her head and tried to fight with everything that she had the knowledge that she would become this thing, this monster. She tried to fight the fact that as soon as Dru finished, Darla would no longer exist – it would just be a demon wearing her face. The fear gripped her and she began to try to pull herself from Dru's arms. She struggled and hit out at her captor, squirming in agony as the fangs embedded themselves deeper into her flesh. All she managed to do was to tear her throat more and the tightrope to turn into a burning lash of pain. Blood began to gush from the huge tear in her throat.
Eventually the pulling stopped. She felt herself being pressed against Dru's flesh and she could smell the irresistible vampire blood. She tried to pull her head away but she was too weak from the blood loss. As soon as the first drop of blood touched her lips she knew that she was done for. You couldn't ignore the call of the blood. Even to a human, vampire blood was the sweetest ambrosia. It was as if it knew what you're favourite taste was. It could be honey or chocolate or strawberries sweetened with sugar. It was everything that you wanted and after that first sip, it was everything that you needed. Your body latched on to it like a drowning man would a lifeline. No matter how much Darla's mind was pulling her away from doing this, Darla's body was in charge and it craved the viscous fluid that was caressing its way over her tongue. She started to suck harder, feeling Dru shake with laughter at her new creation. Underneath all of the sweetness she heard the whisperings of the new demon, telling her what she was. The tears slowed as she took another deep draught.
The only thing that was convincing Angel that this wasn't the product of his nightmare and that he would wake up safe in his bed at the Hyperion was the hand gripping and tearing his hair. Every time he tried to turn away Lindsay yanked some more hair out, every time he shut his eyes there was more pain. He was grateful when Darla shut her eyes, he didn't want her to see his betrayal. He had failed to protect her and she was dying because of it. She had had the world ahead of her. She had been coming to terms with her soul. She had begun to apologise for all the evil that she had done as a vampire, even though it had been another lifetime ago. She had been making friends and become part of a family.
She had lost that now. He hadn't been able to protect her.
He watched Darla begin to struggle against her attacker, but she wasn't strong enough and her throat tore more. He could see the blood cascading from the large ragged wound in her neck. Her light blue jumper was staining red and her hair was becoming matted with blood at the ends. There was no romance in this turning. It was violent and bloody and entirely demonic.
As he watched Darla begin to drink, Drusilla achieved that which the entire legions of hell had failed to do, Angel broke. His mind shut down and he went boneless, only Lindsay's hand was keeping him upright. His eyes glazed and the last thing he saw was Dru's golden eyes turn on him as Darla slumped to the floor.
