Chapter Twelve

Willow woke up shivering despite the thick duvet which had appeared overnight. She curled up tightly and tried to burrow for warmth, she heard the flickering of a fire but didn't dare rise. You have to get up. You have to find Angel. The crumpled piece of paper in her jeans pocket overtook her mind; as soon as Spike slept she would leave. She sat up but he was nowhere to be found, her jeans and shirt were folded neatly beside her head and she hurriedly dressed. She saw a scrap of wood and quickly lit it from the fire, perhaps it would be best to conserve her energy and avoid using her magic. She kept close to the walls of the tunnels, her hands brushing along as she tried to find her way. How long had she slept? What if she had slept through the day and missed her escape?

The tunnel seemed endless, all around her she could hear the deep rumblings as trains far above rattled along. The walls vibrated and every so often pieces of the wall would crumble and she would be doused in dust. Keep going, she told herself, don't turn back. She jumped at a hand on her shoulder and dropped her torch, the flame flickered out and died but not before she found herself staring into Spike's eyes.

"I – I was looking for you." She whispered feebly as he grasped her upper arms. "I woke up and you were gone – the rats..."

"Ssh," his lips brushed against hers and she felt his fangs graze her tongue. "I had to hunt," he gently pulled her back towards his lair and Willow felt herself pull away. "What's wrong Willow?" She could hear from his voice that he had his human features in place; his voice had lost its growling thickness.

"Spike please I hate it here," she sat beside the fire and hugged her knees to her chest. "It's dark...and there are rats. This isn't fit for human habitation." She flinched at Spike's predatory smile and inched away from him as he sat beside her.

"You won't be human for long love," Spike wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close. They sat in silence, staring into the dancing flames of the fire. Willow looked up and watched a rat's shadow flickering across the walls.

"What time is it?" She whispered, she had to get away from him.

"Just after midday."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" She asked lamely.

"No. I wanted to keep you company today." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand gently. His lips hovered above her skin and his face hardened.

"No...no!" Willow grabbed a handful of dirt and hurled it into his eyes, as she jumped up she grabbed a jagged piece of wood but this time not for fire. She sprinted into the depths of the tunnel, she summoned a small ball of light just big enough to show her when she was approaching a turn or dead end.

"Willow!" Spike's voice bounced and echoed all around her making it impossible to tell where he was. He knew the tunnels far better than she did, for all she knew he had slipped in front of her somewhere. His cruel laughter enveloped her in the darkness and she wildly turned on the spot swinging the stake and hoping she would strike lucky. "C'mon love, I won't bite...much."

She ran for what felt like hours, she tripped and stumbled through the tunnels twisting endlessly. She had no idea where she was, how close she was to the exit – to freedom, or if she had mistakenly run back towards his lair. She cried out as she tripped over a rat and fire shot through her right ankle, her fingers clasped tightly around the stake and she cried out as she felt it scrape across her side. Angel, she felt tears spring to her eyes. Please help me...please! Why had he not taken her with him at Heathrow? They could have gone back to the States together, to Sunnydale – or at the very least they could have fled from England. She tried to push herself back onto her feet and screamed as pain ripped through her ankle and up to the very top of her head. She heard heavy footsteps, slow and leisurely, knowing that running would be futile she called her ball of light back towards her and enlarged it. The tunnel was thrown into a blinding light and she forced herself to sit up as Spike approached. She held the stake ready, poised high should he come too close.

"Do you really think you can kill me?" He stopped a few feet in front of her, his face was human but his eyes glittered. "Your slayer friend couldn't kill me. What chance do you have?" Willow spat at him and forced herself to stand, she leant against the wall for support but still she kept the stake poised. "I'll give you one chance," he whispered stroking her face gently. He took a step backwards and shed his shirt and t-shirt. He stood in front of her bare chested, Willow looked at his rippling muscles, the strong biceps and licked her lips as she poised the stake. "Here," he took her hand which held the stake and placed it over his heart. "Go on love, one strong push. You can go home." He reached into the pocket of her jeans and she drew in a startled breath. He pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper and unfolded it. "Kill me Willow and you can go to Angelus, you can go home." When she looked up into his eyes she found the yellow eyes of a monster staring at her.

Do it! A voice in her mind shouted, she had staked vampires before but that had been different. It had been a stranger, someone who was about to kill one of her friends. This is Spike! He has tried to kill you all hundreds of times! He'll kill Buffy! He's going to kill YOU! But she couldn't do it, her hand trembled and her ankle screamed at her in agony. Tears blurred her eyes and she dropped the stake slumping to the ground. "I am not a killer. I promise you that...turn me. But I will never kill." She buried her face into her hands so that Spike wouldn't see the tears, but she knew could smell them.

"I saw you together." Spike said gently helping her to her feet and holding her arm over his shoulder so he could take her slender weight. "Did you really think I would get you this far and lose you to him?" Tears washed down Willow's cheeks but she put up no fight as Spike led her towards his lair. She noticed now that several duvets were piled together to make a comfortable bed, he scooped her up and carried her the last few feet towards the makeshift bed. He unbuttoned her blouse, Willow stared up at the ceiling blankly. She put up no resistance, he was going to kill her now and fighting would be futile. She hissed as something cold dripped onto her belly and she watched as he cleaned the wound she'd inflicted upon herself by accident. The stake had cut into the skin, not deep but enough to draw blood and leave splinters. "Your ankle will be healed by the time you wake. This will not even scar." He kissed the wound gently and suckled at it, her blood was still surprisingly sweet. She had lost her maidenhead, but Spike was surprised to see she had maintained her innocence. He sat her up and cradled her gently, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. A cross between vanilla and rose, soft and gentle. He could hear the blood pounding through her veins, her pulse beating in her neck. He kissed her where her jugular vein lay and trailed his lips up towards her chin and to her own warm lips. "You will not hate me when you wake. I promise." Her green eyes flashed at him but she remained silent, he kissed her once more, deeply yet softly and when he drew away his face was ready for the kill.

She didn't scream, he was impressed by that. A gasp escaped her lips as he buried his fangs into her jugular. His hands stroked her smooth back; he sucked on her neck as he drank greedily from her. Willow remained silent; her breathing grew desperate as she fought to hold on for life. You're taking too much, he scolded himself and forced his feeding to stop. He laid her down gently, her skin had taken on the colour of snow and her eyes were a vibrant green from the pain. Her chest rose and fell erratically and she drew in jagged breaths. Spike brought his wrist to his mouth and tore into the soft skin. Supporting Willow's head he pressed his wrist to her mouth, her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to fight the urge to drink. But the moist liquid against her lips proved too tempting and her tongue flicked out and darted across his wrist. After a few licks she brought her own hands to his wrist and pushed it closer so she could suck at the blood.

This is wrong, a voice told her. Fight it! Don't drink! If you die you'll be free! But another instinct was taking hold, a more primal one. Drink, it encouraged her. Take his blood! Take his life! Spike pulled his wrist away and held her down to stop her from taking more, if she took too much she wouldn't die and as much as he enjoyed her blood it was too risky to let her live anymore. Angel would find them, and he refused to lose her. As her eyes drifted shut a tear slipped down her cheek, Spike pressed his lips and kissed the salty tear away. He smoothed her hair from her forehead and watched as she died. Her lips moved, his blood stained her mouth and he lowered his head so he could hear her dying breath.

"I...promise...never...kill..."

"You will," Spike assured her kissing her one final time. As her chest ceased rising he drew the duvet up to her chin and silently stared at the corpse of Willow Rosenburg.