Chapter Seven

Willow's first sight of Las Vegas wasn't as glamorous or as exciting as she had thought it would be. She'd never really thought of going there, she wasn't into gambling or wild parties. She was very much a quiet night in person. But if she had ever thought about visiting this dazzling city it certainly wasn't with her wrists bound in her lap and accompanied by a vampire. They had driven from the last of the dingy motels in silence, Spike constantly lighting a new cigarette when the old one had been smoked. As Spike parked the car, in a place Willow was convinced wasn't legal, he climbed from the car and slipped his leather duster off and folded it up. As he helped Willow from the car he rested the folded item over her hands so she looked as if she was carrying it.

"Don't look at me like that love," he said tossing yet another cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. "If you hadn't tried to kill me I wouldn't have to do this." He kissed her mouth softly laughing as she pulled her face away from him. Sweeping an arm around her waist Spike guided her into the hotel lobby and her heels clicked against the marbled floor. Despite the circumstances she found her breath catching in awe, there was nothing as glamorous as this in Sunnydale. Spike left her staring entranced at a landscape watercolour on a wall as he checked them into a room, when he came back he had to gently nudge her back to reality. "I've booked us in for three nights," he said gently as the lift began to ascend. "And room service will be bringing you some food up soon."

"I'm not hungry."

"You keep saying that, but you haven't eaten for days love."

"Stop calling me that." Willow hissed moving to throw his jacket at his feet, Spike held it there in place giving her a warning glance.

"I thought we were starting to get along," Spike sighed stroking her cheek gently. Willow flinched away and blinked back tears, her cheeks beginning to turn crimson as she thought back to what she'd allowed him to do. She couldn't even lie to herself and say he had forced himself; she had been frightened but willing. His touch aroused her, even now, and for that she loathed herself. She barely noticed the lift door opening or Spike shepherding her into the room, it wasn't until she heard the door click shut that she took in her surroundings. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked around the room, rooms, in stunned silence. "Have you ever stayed in the Penthouse suited before?" Willow shook her head stunned and allowed Spike to tow her around. The suite was massive, bigger than the first floor of her home. The bed looked soft and inviting but she was too afraid to test it out, she was uncomfortably aware of what Spike had planned for this room. The walls were a soft cream and gold colour, the carpet looked like what she imagined the clouds above the sun to resemble; fluffy and golden. The wall at the end was replaced with a large window; the curtains were open to reveal the colourful lights of the city and the desert beyond. Willow felt something tugging at her wrists and she looked down to see Spike finally untying them. She rubbed her chafed wrists, the bonds hadn't been tight to start with but each time she had moved her hands they had rubbed against the already tender and raw skin. "They'll heal quicker when the change happens." Spike reassured her but Willow acted as if she didn't hear.

There was a knock at the door and as Spike went to answer it Willow took a seat on one of the luxurious sky blue velvet chairs close to the window and began to remove her shoes and socks. She was eager to feel the plush carpeting beneath her feet and she sighed at the soft sensation against her soles. A young man wheeled in a trolley of food covered by silver domes, behind him Spike carried a bottle of something and two champagne flutes. The young man left hurriedly casting a nervous glance at Spike and Willow felt her stomach twist.

"A toast!" Spike proposed popping the cork on the bottle of champagne with the flick of his thumb; Willow was impressed with the skill despite herself. "To new beginnings." He poured her some of the sparkling golden liquid and handed her the glass.

"I can't drink to that." She told him quietly.

"Of course you can." Spike clinked his glass against hers and downed it one go, Willow was suddenly overcome with nerves – was he getting her drunk so he could claim her completely? The thought made her dizzy and she looked at him helplessly. Spike sighed and poured himself a second glass. "I won't ravish you tonight l – Willow, I promise." He grinned wolfishly at her and for a brief second his eyes shimmered the harrowing yellow colour of his demon mask. "I have some business to take care of tonight, but tomorrow..." He stepped closer and drew his thumb over her lower lip. Taking her glass he set it on the table carefully and drew her into his arms. His kiss was long, soft and deep. Willow could barely stop herself being drawn into it, even the voice in her mind which screamed at her to remember who he was, what he was, was subdued by the kiss. "Eat something." Spike told her tenderly and she couldn't help but nod at his command, perhaps it was the champagne which was buzzing around in her head, but his smell was intoxicating and she felt drawn to him. She tucked into a hearty meal of steak, so rare it was almost alive, and chips with a rich chocolate brownie for desert. She'd not eaten so well in days and the food was rich rather than greasy. When she had finished Willow stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, it was just as beautiful as the bedroom and she looked around in stunned awe. The floor was a marbled black and grey; the same marble topped the counters of twin sinks and lined the wall of a large Jacuzzi tub. She turned the taps and filled the bath with some of the bubble bath that rested on the side. It never occurred to her that she hadn't locked the door, that Spike was peering in now and watching her. After she scrubbed herself clean and towelled her hair dry she stood in front of one of the sinks gazing at her reflection. Her eyes looked sunken, two large purplish rings stared back at her and her skin was drawn tightly against her already slim face. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the door open, the soles of Spike's steel-toed leather boots clipping against the floor. She jumped as she felt something feathery light pull her damp hair back from her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror in wonder. It was only her in the mirror, but she watched as her hair was pushed away from her neck, as the luxurious towel she'd wrapped around herself was pulled loose and she stood in front of the mirror naked. She watched her face flame red, but still it was only her in the mirror. She could feel the fabric of Spike's shirt pressed against his back, the soft pressure of his lips as he kissed her jaw and neck. She watched as her breasts gently dimpled as he squeezed them tenderly and as he head was gently tilted to the left. She saw the blood before she felt him bite her; a sudden crimson pool appeared on the right side of her neck and washed down her shoulder and arm. She felt Spike's arms tighten around her waist and one tilt her head to the side as he bit deeply into her neck. As she closed her eyes she was strangely aware that her reflection was beginning to slump, supported by some unseen figure.