Chapter 19:

You Thought I Was Going To Do WHAT!

by Quwinntessa Starber

 She heard the roar; terror, pain, fear, the all consuming note of loneliness and rage. She turned, the soaked dress clinging to her, making her movements jerky, slow. She watched him crest the hill, watched the demon dance across his face as the two warred for control. She listened to the sound of his cry, his call, his demand, and she responded.

        Arms thrown out, head tipped back into the torrential rain, Willow opened her eyes into the lightening of the storm and made her own demand.

        * * *

        So many emotions in one cry, so many fears in one sound. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't! If she jumped, he'd wait right there, no matter how long it took for the sun, and he'd go to her. Maybe they wouldn't go to the same place, but at least if he didn't see her, he'd know she'd be happy.

        The demon pushed him forward and he followed, knowing he had only two choices, reach Willow or die.

        Neither he nor his demon were ready when the small woman threw her head back and screamed into the night. Nor were they ready when the ground around her cracked and splintered, rising and jutting up in sharp spikes of ancient earth. They couldn't have been prepared for the lightening that suddenly drove from the sky and struck into the palms of each of her hands. They couldn't have been prepared for the howling wind swirling around her suddenly, lifting her off the ground to float three meters off the earth. And they weren't ready when the sea surged suddenly three hundred feet and sent a wide spray that suddenly hung in the air like tiny diamonds around her before coalescing into a river of water that came to form a ring around her body. No, they weren't at all ready, but they watched horrified and fascinated, all the same.

        * * *

        When there was more at stake, too much at stake, there was only one thing left to do.

        Opening her lungs, Willow let lose the sound of her ultimate frustration, her all consuming fear; she let go of the shy nobody she'd been as a child, of her desperate need to be accepted, and in its place she accepted the power, the magic, the call of the word, Queen.

        Power filled her body, first the earth, surged into her, from the soles of her feet, up through her spine and into the back of her brain where in the future it was only a thought away. Next was the power of fire, of lightening, of destruction. It burned into her hands, poured up her arms and into her chest, settling into her heart to burn brightly and with passion. Then the wind, the air, the wisdom not even time could withhold. It rushed into her eyes, her ears, nose and mouth, it filled her senses, and branded her wise beyond her years; filled her with the knowledge she would need to control that which was consuming her. Next came the sea, the rain, the water. It soaked her hair, her clothes, soaked into her flesh. This was the power to rule with care, to use the magic with temperance, to love and nurture more than to hate and destroy.

        And then, there was only one thing left.

        Her head came forward, her eyes, glowing with the power of ancient magic, fixed on her lover, her mate, her reason for life, and with a soft smile, she opened her arms to receive him, to seal their bond for eternity.

        * * *

        "William, Will, William the Blood, The Scourge of Europe, Spike, my Spike, do not be afraid; come." Her voice was the wind, a siren's call to him over the roar of the storm. Arms outstretched to receive him, her entire body hummed with magic, it wafted off her in waves of colored smoke that were at once beautiful as they were terrifying. But her eyes, those kind green eyes were different now, not so kind, not so forgiving, and not so very lost; these were the eyes of a woman filled with wisdom, with compassion, and with power.

        And she was calling for him.

        A soft smile graced her lips as the winds that had once lifted her now set her gently back upon the jutting earth. The swirl of water tipped upwards on its invisible axis so that it framed her like Michaelangelo's circle, running unerringly through the earth.

        She flexed her fingers at him. "Spike, come to me, we are not yet finished."

        His feet took a step towards her. "Willow.Willow, what's happened?" The demon inside him rested behind the human vale listening intently to every word. "What's--"

        Suddenly her fingers, once outstretched, now fisted and her body tensed as if caught in a sudden and great grip of pain. He never even registered the movement, suddenly he was there, his strong arms wrapping around her water soaked body, pulling his mate against his chest as his legs gave out from under him and they sank to the muddy earth.

        Against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder and she seemed to relax. Large pale hands swept across her face, wrapping around her shoulders to draw her closer to him, needing to offer her what little shelter he could. "Willow, tell me what's happened, luv."

        A sigh, a gentle kiss to the underside of his chin and then her beautiful melodic voice. "I've been chosen."

        "What do you mean chosen?"

        Pale slim fingers rose to caress his bare chest as the rain continued to drive against them. "That's why you chose me Spike. That's why you brought me here. The magic chose me, and it chose you as well. But I was too damaged, too broken, too lost to find it when we first came, I needed you to show me the way. And you did, my Spike, you did." Fingertips brushed the falling rain from his cheeks as her lips parted to kiss his neck. "This is my destiny, you are my destiny. You were meant to want me, we were meant to come here, and I was meant to become what I have become."

        A soft smile graced her mouth as she lightly touched her own throat as if still amazed by all that she'd learned. But he was terrified, wary of this idea that they were predestined to this exact moment. "What do you mean? Who made me bring you here? What have you become?"

        Brilliant green eyes lifted, framed by cinnamon eyelashes. "She brought us here Spike, She made you love me, and She made sure this moment came to pass."

        "Who Willow? Who is this woman?" Fear made him stronger and as his hands bit into her shoulders, shaking her slightly, some part of him knew he was hurting her, despite the fact that her face remained serene.

        Her laugh startled him and he pulled back at the sound of genuine tinkling laughter. "Oh Spike, don't you know? Can't you feel it? Here, feel!" She reached for his hand, pulled it around and pressed his fingers against her chest, holding them as she looked up into his sapphire blue eyes once again.

        He felt nothing but the cold of her flesh.

        "Willow, I don't know what you're talking about, but your freezing. I need to get you ins--"

        "NO!" Her arms came up around his neck, pulling him down; holding him to her with a strength humans did not possess.

Into his ear she whispered, "The ritual is not yet complete, my transformation isn't finished. I have been chosen by the magic, by the Goddess and by The Queen of Vampires. I alone will possess the magic to bring order out of chaos; I alone will be the next Blood Queen. I am the balance between good and evil, I am The Queen, one Queen to rule all other Queens. I have been chosen by the Goddess and the old Blood Queen to become the next Blood Queen, to carry the blood of Vampires and protect their destiny with justice. I will be The Queen, one Queen to rule them all."

Confusion colored his words as he turned to look up at her. "Willow.there is no Blood Queen, there is no such woman. Our queens are our leaders but there is no one queen that controls all others. This isn't like that blood Rice novel with those wanker vampires."

She smiled softly, like a mother gazing upon her child. "You said there was a council of vampires that came together once and learned the secret of human females, life from death, correct?" He nodded. "Spike, my Spike, who do you think formed that council? Who do you think planted the thoughts, the needs to find each other and learn such a truth?"

He shook his head, the wind howling around him. "They just did, Willow. There's no one queen, only many. I know all the old stories and there is no Blood Queen, no one queen responsible for carrying the blood of vampires. There just isn't!"

"Because there isn't, or because she did not wish to be known until now?"

If his heart could have stopped, it would have. She was so sure, so confident in her proclamation, as if she knew something no one else knew and thought of it as some delicious secret.

"Willow.how do you know all this?"

Leaning forward she kissed him, her soft now blue lips pressed against his lightly as the rain continued, as lightening flashed in the distance, and as her skin continued to glow with that ethereal light.

"The Goddess told me, my Spike. She gave me the power to do what I must, to rule as I must. She granted me the absolution I need to become a vampire, to give and take life as I must. She told me who and what I am, my Spike; She told me what I needed to do next."

"Do.next?"

A nod, "Yes. My transformation isn't complete yet, the prophecy isn't fulfilled." Once again her hand came to his cheek, caressing his flesh. "A queen is a vampire of much power Spike, an old queen has even more, but I will have more then all of them combined, and must have some form of balance."

Her hands came and encircled his wrists and she smiled at him before pulling them both to the top of her bodice. He unconsciously curled his fingers under the hem. "One King to be my Mate, one King to be my Hand, and one King to be my Faith. You are my Mate, my first King, but not the only King I must have. You must guard my heart, but like you, there are two others.but you already knew this."

And he did. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd known. In the old days, back when the hunt was pure and the blood ran clean, when the kill was filled with life and lust, he'd known there was a greater destiny for him.for them.

"Angelus is the Hand." Her eyes locked with his, and with a nod, she confirmed his greatest hope and his greatest fear. "Angelus.he's gone, buried under the soul, there is no Angelus, only Angel. You.you can free him?" Such hope, such disgust, such uncertainty.

But Willow only shook her head, tiny water droplets falling from her hair before they continued to cascade down her pale face. "No one can free Angelus of his soul, it is a necessary part of who he is and who he will become. But The Powers That Be have given him a gift more precious than the absence of his soul."

Unadulterated anger coursed through him, and the demon that demanded the return of its sire, that craved the contact with one of its own pushed forward, wrapping claw like talons around Willow's shoulders, biting into her flesh and drawing blood. "There is no gift more precious than the elimination of that cursed soul! A souled demon is pathetic and weak, not worthy to be called vampire!"

Unafraid, she nodded, a patient smile that showed not pain as blood flowed down her arms. "Yes, that is true, but what if the soul remained, but that which kept the demon locked in the cage were gone?"

The demon growled low in its throat and beard its fangs. "The soul is the cage, destroy the soul and you free the demon."

Willow shook her head. "No, the soul is the balance, the demon the evil, and guilt that which tempers the evil. It is his guilt which cages the demon, his guilt at what the demon did, filtered through the balance of his soul.

"Hear me and learn," her eyes flashed with sudden power, and her smile disappeared so that the demon came to attention, listening. "Remove the guilt and the soul is but a filter on future things to come, tempered by the demon's will to reign chaos upon the world. It makes not a ruthless killer who strikes without thought of consequence, but makes a thinker, a planner, a male vampire as close to a queen as can become. His soul will make him more dangerous, more deadly than any vampire ever known. Angelus will be my King, my Hand of destruction because he is the only male vampire worthy of the Blood Queen's trust. Just as you, my Spike, are the only male vampire worthy of the Blood Queen's heart.

"Do you understand? Are you able yet to see what is before you? Once my transformation is complete I will have all the necessary power to cage the first demon of the old Blood Queen. We will rule vampires across the globe and usher in a new era, a new world, because that is why the old Blood Queen has chosen to step down. We are the next generation, and the first to be strong enough to show our strength and bring order from chaos."

Like salve on a burn, her words soothed the demon and his features returned to those of his human form. Angelus was among them, the demon was satisfied for now. "You.you said there were three Kings, one your Mate, that's me, one your Hand, that's Angelus, but the other, the.the Faith, who is he?"

Her face suddenly fell, her eyes growing dark of their inner glow. "He is the wildcard, the unknown. He may exist or he may not, it is unclear. Until he is found I cannot be changed, I cannot receive the first demon of the Blood Queen. The King of Faith must be found before I can be turned, there must be three. You and my Hand must find him, must bring him to me." She sighed, the strength seeming to leak out of her. "He must be found my Spike, I need him. You will help me find him, won't you?"

Jealousy flashed through him, but he nodded none the less, cradling her to his chest as he rocked them slowly in the pounding rain. It was almost too much to process. And in there somewhere, Angelus was once again rearing his head to take what was his. His demon warred with his thoughts, roared that Angelus was his sire, had equal claim on anything he owned, had all rights to him. But his mind ignored the demon, searching for a way to find another King to be Willow's Hand, there had to be another somewhere!

"Spike?" He pulled back at her soft whisper.

She looked so small and helpless cradled in his arms, the glow of magic now gone from her skin so that he could see she was nearly blue from cold and exposure. "Willow!"

"Spike," she said again, her eyes focusing on his as a crash of thunder illuminated them. "The transformation must be finished, you have to help me now, Spike, I need you now."

His fingers worked into her hair, brushing the clinging strands from her cheeks. "I swear to you Willow, anything you needed, anything, I will give you." He made to stand, to rise and carry her trembling body back to the house, but her fingernails breaking skin at the back of his neck stopped him.

"Here Spike, it must be here. In the elements, on the land, it must be here where the Goddess can witness." She trailed off and he could see now just how exhausted she was, the effort to breathe now a conscious thought.

"What do I have to do Willow, tell me so I can do it and take you inside. You'll freeze to death out here Luv, you're not divine yet!" The sarcastic end to his sentence was tempered by the sudden shivers that racked her small body. "Willow?"

She tried to smile, though her teeth now chattered, making the look of love more like one of painful suffering. "You-you are the f-first King I-I must cl-claim. Y-You will m-make me when the t-time is ri-right." He nodded, wanting her to finish, needing her to give him the instructions he needed to appease the Goddess and bring his mate the shelter she needed. "I-in the wit-witness of the Goddess.you m-must cl-claim me here, n-now."

He hunched his shoulders over her, trying to block as much of the freezing rain and wind as he could. "How Willow, tell me how so that I can take you inside."

The nod was little more than a spasm. "Y-You m-must claim th-this body.as before."

For a long moment he had no idea what she meant, and then suddenly, with a blazing poker of knowledge from the demon, he knew exactly what she meant.

"Out here in the freezing rain?! I need to make love to you in the freezing rain while you die from hypothermia?! Is that goddess chit bloody stupid?!" He pulled her tightly against him, wrapping his body around her. He almost missed her words over the driving storm.

"Be-bef-fore the eyes of-of the God.dess.Spike. Please." Her luscious green eyes blinked, once, then again, before rolling upwards, her body going limp in his embrace.

"Bloody Hell!" He yelled over the roaring storm as the rain crashed even more forcefully against them. He turned, protecting her with his body from the directional winds as he lifted her and moved back towards the house.

Rocks cut into his feet, between his toes as mud oozed up to his ankles and every step was a sound louder than the storm, but all he did was hold his mate closer to his chest and continue to climb. Her heart was slowing, he could hear it now, and while the fear raced through him he knew at once there could be no other way.

Mud turned to soggy grass as he crossed onto the manicured lawns of Windemere. His direction changed as he moved towards the stables and the sound of wild horses beating against the walls. They knew. Wild animals could sense this precious gift in his arms just as his demon could. Willow, barley hanging onto life, was a gift the world could do no other than hold its breath for.

The gravel driveway split the soles of his feet open, marking the fateful trail from conception to birth. Magic ran through her thin human veins, power of the highest order in its purest form. She was beyond special, beyond gifted, beyond simply human.

Willow Rosenburg was touched by the very hand that formed the heavens.

Just as she was touched by the very hand that formed the nine hells.

With demon strength, he kicked in the stable doors, the powerful gust of wind that swept in stirred the straw to life, swirling it around the air like some sort of welcoming dance of foreboding.

His first step into the stable silenced the horses. His second step deflected the wind so that the air was soft and undisturbed. His third step ignited the lanterns to give the single room the very glow of hell itself. His forth step literally blew the very roof off the wooden building.

He looked up, expecting rain, sleet, the terrible wind of Irish sea storms, but there was none. The rain itself diverged, falling all around the stable building, but did not dare fall inside. The wind howled over the walls, but was forbidden to touch the lantern flames. Nothing about any of this could be real, and yet, he held the proof in his very arms.

Without another though he carried her to one of the empty stables once used to house the horses of visiting dignitaries. Against a mound of dry straw he laid her, his hands immediately going to brush the soggy mass of blood red hair from her china doll face. Cinnamon eyelashes fluttered, and nearly blue lips parted in a resounding moan that immediately brought tears to the eyes of the master.

She was shivering, he could see that now that he could get a good look at her. His eyes looked her over quickly, assessing as only a predator and a lover can do. He shook his head, not noticing the dozens of droplets that fell from his now dirty blond, curly hair.

Strong hands moved to the bodice of her stolen dress and pulled, ripping the layers of soaking fabric down, from breast to ankle. Her skin reddened at his rough treatment of her as he freed her from the fabric. Naked and moaning with cold, he damned his silent heart and the chill of his own immortal body.

Rising he moved to first Jack and then Mary's stall, neither horses gave any resistance as he stripped them of their warming blankets. He found another dark gray, wool blanket outside Willow's stall and grabbed that too, laying this one on the pile of straw beside her.

Looking up, he watched the lightening flash overhead, the rain act like a living thing, avoiding the open roof of the stable. When he looked back down, it was into cloudy mint green eyes, with irises outlined in blood.

"Willow?"

"This will do, Spike. This will do." She said softly, her eyes focused not on him, but the heavens. One hand fluttered to her breast, and he immediately threw out one of the blankets to cover her, before rolling her slightly and lifting her into his lap. His hands rubbed back and forth, forcing heat into her ice like body.

His hands were rough and unforgiving, and his voice was equally so. "You'll tell me what's going on Willow, and you'll tell me now. I don't have a sodding idea what's going on, and you're going to tell me, or so help me--"

When her fingers rose to cover his lips, his first thought was that they were shaking, the second was that they were at least warming up. His ice blue eyes locked with hers, but they were the green of the fields now, no longer cloudy or blood rimmed.

"I remember once, as a little girl, thinking about what it would be like to kiss my boyfriend in a stable. Later, when I got older, I imagined making love to him in one." Her eyes held him captive as her hand moved to caress his cheek. "Now I look at you, and I envision the warmth of our bed, the hard surface of those crates at the bar, the cool grass of the garden, the warm water of the bathtub, but mostly, I envision this very moment. I see us as we are, as what we're about to become. I see my love, my life, my eternity in your eyes, and none of those other things matter, the place never matters. You are my destiny, my eternal light and darkness, you are my King, my Mate, and my slave. You and I are one in the same, beings on the same path, blessed and cursed, and forever intertwined."

Leaning forward she licked his lips, tasting the blood tears he hadn't known he'd shed. And as his arms came around to hold her impossibly tight, those delicate fingers ran down the hard expanse of his chest before wrapping around the evidence of his terror, love, and lust for her.

His eyes closed in a sudden moment of sexual euphoria. "Willow."

Warm lips slid over his neck. "You are my salvation." She breathed, her teeth gracing his flesh. "You are my hope." She whispered, warm breath caressing his neck. "You are my heart, my choice, my desire, my need. You," she slid forward, her legs shifting, moving, encircling his hips, "Are my King of Hearts."

As she slid onto him, the rain ceased, the wind quieted, and the storm dissipated. Only the howl of completion, of union, of the merge could be heard, for miles, and miles, and miles.

chapter 18

chapter 20

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