|
|
~Surrender serenity, suffer sweet misery.~
A million tiny specs of golden light swirled around the feeding goddess, almost as if a swarm of lightening bugs were surrounding her. Of course, I knew it was only the streetlight being distorted by my blurry eyes. A week solid of drinking had failed to lighten the pain of destroying Willow, obliterating her shining innocence in one moment of drunken passion. When her dark eyes sought mine in the shadows, they were a winter storm.
“You don’t need to stalk me, Spike.” Her voice never changed in pitch, but I could feel her disdain. She saw me as an obnoxious tag-along, something she needed to tolerate and occasionally as someone to talk to when she could no longer stand the silence. “It isn’t as if I can’t sense you.”
“I know, Pet. But the light ‘urts my eyes.”
“Hung over.” Peeved, she turned away, walking down the street alone, expecting me to follow. I did. I watched the way her chin-length red hair swung bewitchingly back and forth, a crown of fire for her porcelain face and midnight eyes. If everything about her didn’t threaten to kill the first person who touched her uninvited, she’d be an unparalleled beauty.
We repeated the same routine each night. She left to feed, I followed. Sometimes I fed as well, sometimes I just watched the ruthlessly random manner in which she chose her victims. Anyone who crossed her path was fair game. She fed quickly, savoring but not lingering. Then she either chose to acknowledge my presence or ignored me until I broke down and spoke to her.
Only once had the routine been broken: the night we met up with the Slayer. I watched as the petite blond stared in horror at what had been her friend, saw the light of pain her eyes as she remembered that this creature that had been Willow slaughtered her little puppy-boy. They fought briefly, but Willow soon managed to get the upper hand, slamming the Slayer up against a brick wall and slinking away. Somehow, I think not having her heart in it gave her the advantage. Willow didn’t care if she lived. So she did. I trailed her back to the factory and tried to comfort her. She had thrown me half-way across the room, face twisted in anger. “Leave me the hell alone!”
I never touched her again after that unless she wanted it. She rarely did. Like I said, Willow thought about as much of me as a stray dog. “Wait up, luv.” She slowed her pace almost imperceptibly and I breathed a sigh of relief. For the night, at least, she would let me in. We walked in silence, side-by-side. I looked up into the vast expanse of sky above us. The lights of Sunnyhell only faded the canvas a little, and I could easily make out several constellations.
Suddenly one of the stars fell streaking past us, a flash of bright in the darkness. “Make a wish, luv.”
Willow stared up at the sky, unmoving and unblinking. Then her head moved once, side-to-side and she looked at me, dark eyes betraying the briefest flash of pain. “No more wishes.”