Light of My Life

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Summary: Ever wondered what became of Cecily?

AUTHOR: RavenX
EMAIL: raven_x_@hotmail.com
RATING: Strong R
PAIRINGS: Spike/Drusilla, Spike/Other
SPOILERS: Fool for Love, 5.07
DISCLAIMERS: I do not own these characters.
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London, 1880.

Nimbly, she hurried through the dark and quiet garden. It was almost midnight and she hoped desperately that dear Randolph would still be waiting for her. At their place. The secret place. They were meeting there for the fourth time and her heart jumped when she only thought of him. Randolph, Viscount Deen. After his father's death he would become the seventh Duke of Avon. Cecily, Duchess of Avon. Her heartbeat speeded up. She was close, so close. Just a few more feverish kisses, a few more admiring glances and then she would be the Duchess of Avon for the rest of her life.

The small pavilion was bathe in the glow of the moonlight. She stopped running to present Randolf her appearance in the best way possible. Without doubt he was starving to see her and she wouldn't disappoint him. Vaguely she made out his tall frame between the white columns and frowned. He wasn't alone. A woman held him in a passionate embrace, pressing her body to his. Cecily stopped in her tracks. The woman turned and Cecily could look at her face. But it wasn't a face. It was a demon's mask with yellow eyes and long shiny fangs.

And now she took in fully that this creature didn't embrace Randolf but held him tight to prevent his body from falling to the ground. Cecily's gaze fixed on his limp arms and his dangling head. In some part of her mind she realized, that her dream of being a Duchess was over. Randolf wouldn't marry anybody. Randolf Viscount Deen was as dead… as someone with a broken neck could be.

The cry stuck in her throat when a cold hand was put over her mouth. Fortunately her consciousness decided to leave at this point and she drowned in comforting darkness.

* * *

Opening her eyes, the first thing she was aware of was the pain in her shoulders. The pain resulted from the fact that she was lying on a bed and her arms were tied up behind her head. Her spread legs were also bound to the bed with thin ropes. She was naked. Shame and panic rushed into her, but before she could process it, she picked up strange sounds beside her.

Two marble bodies were moving on the bed in an obscene rhythm, moans and soft growls escaping from them. Cecily blushed. This was what only should happen between a married couple. She had heard the maids giggle about it but now her knowledge improved drastically. The moans became louder, long legs were pressed around the man's hips and fingernails scratched his back. With a joint scream the bodies arched gracefully, resting motionless on the bed an instant later.

Cecily stared at the face of the woman. In front of her incredulous eyes the demons-mask morphed into breathtakingly beautiful features. The pale lips curled into a smile and she grasped the shoulder of the man resting on her, shaking him slightly. "William, look, our lamb is with us."

The man lifted his head and Cecily noticed with increasing horror that she knew him. While she was frantically trying to remember where she had met him, he reached out his hand and wrapped a strand of her auburn hair around his fingers.

"Cecily, light of my life," he drawled and smirked, before getting up. Naked as he was, he went through the room to a small table where a bottle and several glasses sat waiting.

Cecily's eyes followed him and she tried to ignore the thing between his legs. Instead, she reflected where she'd seen him first, but hadn't any idea. Carrying a glass in each hand he returned to the bed and handed one to the woman stretching out next to her. The ruby liquid was gleaming in the candlelight and for a moment Cecily was convinced, that the glasses were filled with blood. Then she kicked herself mentally and blamed her overheated fantasy for this absurd thought. Idly the man put his empty glass on the nightstand and knelt between her legs. Cecily's eyes grew wide with fear as she stared at him.

"Well, Cecily …"

In that instant she knew who he was. William... William… whatever. The poet who annoyed her month after month with his… 'works' and didn't bother to embarrass her in front of all her upper class admirers. Again and again he uttered his love for her and followed her like a puppy. To her relief he was suddenly gone and she wasted no further thought on him.

And now he was back. Though, he looked different. Taller. His shoulders seemed broader. He didn't wear those ridiculous glasses anymore and his eyes... eyes that had always caressed her, now possessed the colour and the opacity of quicksilver.

"Well, Cecily," he repeated. "You finally remember me."

Gradually his fingers travelled from her knee to her thigh and she started to shiver. "Though, I'm not quite the man I was at our last encounter." His face changed, losing all its human character. At this moment she became aware that the hand on her thigh was as cold as ice. The panic within her became uncontrollable. She had heard the stories about monsters killing innocent citizens by sucking their blood. But those were legends, fairy tales told at the fireside bringing an enjoyable shiver down the back. That simply could not be real.

The creature in front of her bared his fangs, but when he - it? - continued talking, he looked totally normal again. "You were the light of my life, the reason why I got up in the morning, why I searched for words describing your beauty." His fingers played with the curls between her legs. "But now, as I don't have a life, I don't have use for a light anymore. I don't get up in the morning… when I'm searching for words…" The woman suddenly stood behind him, twining her arms around his body, kissing his neck. Her dark, silky hair was flowing down his shoulder. "…then only to praise the beauty of my princess."

He took away his fingers.

The woman caressed his chest, her tongue skimmed lazily over his skin and with increasing dismay Cecily watched the thing between his legs raise. He closed his eyes and his head fell back while the woman's hands went deeper, closing round this thing, starting to move up and down. The panic rushing through Cecily's body blended with an unpleasant heat. Her pulse raced and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. The woman observed her closely. Like a feasting cat at a trapped mouse.

There was something in those eyes that spiralled up pushing her fear into a new dimension. Her vision became shadowed as the man turned his head and opened his mouth. The following scene was a frivolous parody of the kisses Cecily had experienced herself. No gentle exchange, no tender touching but the melting of one mouth into another, devouring, consuming. Hunger and greed recklessly displayed without any shame or any restraint. Only one idea was circling in Cecily's mind: she had to escape this madness before…

The two creatures in front of her broke the kiss when she tore so hard at her bondages that the bed protested creakily.

"Our lamb wants to play," the woman chirped. "Do we want to play with her, my William, do we?"

The man freed himself from the embrace and slid closer. He propped his hands at each side of Cecily's head and bent forward. "Do you know what I am?" he asked tenderly. She only could look at him with wide eyes and his lips curled sardonically. "I'm a creature of darkness. I traded my soul for power and an eternal life." He leaned in and blew a strand of her hair out of her face. His breath was cold and smelled badly of tobacco.

"Do you know what it means to have no soul?"

She managed to shake her head.

"No? Well, I can do whatever I like. I have no conscience. I don't know guilt or mercy or remorse. I just live the day, the moment. And I hold the power over life and death in my hands."

Like a child playing with a loaded weapon, stumbled through her dizzy mind.

"I decide who's beneath me."

The words hung between them bringing back her memory. She gazed at the eyes above her. There was no love. No hate. Only indifference. And with a sudden understanding she realized that this was the worst possibility of all. She tried to speak, to defend herself, but she wasn't able to utter a single syllable. Instead she felt his - cold, dead - hand grasp her chin. His thumb and his index finger dug into her cheeks to prevent her lips from closing as he kissed her. So she had to tolerate his tongue in her mouth. The taste of tobacco, port and …

He let go so suddenly that she blinked.

"Bitter and rotten. What else can you expect from a mouth telling nothing but dirt and lies."

He went over to the table, pouring himself another glass of port and draining it with one gulp.

Surprisingly, this simple gesture made her feel more humiliated than everything else.

"Stars twinkling above us," sang the woman. "Stars twinkling beneath us. Stars twinkling in my hand."

The pain cut through Cecily like a knife and strangled the scream in her throat. Confused, she watched the earring between the creature's fingers. The small diamond carried a piece of her earlobe. Throwing back the dark hair, the woman licked the jewel with visible relish. Then she bent forward and sucked at the bleeding wound. Cecily fought down nausea and desperately tried not to faint.

Standing beside the bed the man looked down at her. "Dru, she's mine," he said with gentle disapproval. "All mine."

The woman snuggled her body to his. "But you are mine, William. That's why your little lamb is mine also."

Putting his arms around her, he smiled. "I do love your logic, Dru."

Then he knelt between Cecily's legs again. Absently caressing her thigh, he said: "How far was Deen allowed to go? A few chaste kisses, a glimpse of your ankle? Or did he already get a taste of the wedding-night?"

He studied her face. "Would have surprised me anyway," he stated. "So, poor Deen has nothing to remember wherever he is presently. And he was so crazy about you." His fingers reached the dark triangle between her thighs. "What if he could see you now? Too bad he's dead."

He smirked wickedly. "But dear Hazelthorpe is pretty alive. And so is his bosom-friend Warringly and that idiot Redflagg. What, if they'd find you like that? Naked, bound to a bed…" he patted the thing between his legs lovingly. "…and your lilywhite breasts stained with unspeakable substances."

"My William always comes up with the best ideas." The woman sat behind him and put her head on his shoulder.

"Your social life will be all over. Nobody will look at you, no more invitations, not even to the theatre. No man will marry you, no children, no reputation. You will be buried alive. And all this won't cost me more than a few words written on a piece of paper and somebody to deliver the message to Hazelthorpe. No doubt, he'd show up with his clique before dawn."

Cecily's thoughts ran amok. He was right. If a member of the ton saw her like that, she could forget all plans about the future. It wasn't important that she had been kidnapped against her will. In the eyes of the nobility she was impure, stained and marked for the rest of her life. An outcast, avoided, despised, less than a street-whore.

"Words written on a piece of paper," he repeated musingly. "You used to laugh about that, you never understood the meaning of written words. Or wanted to understand. Well, I'm convinced, sweet Cecily, from this moment on, you'll change your mind."

All of a sudden he positioned himself on her, covering her whole body with his. She could feel every muscle, every bone of his cold, lean frame pressing her into the mattress and started a silent prayer.

"You will never know about passion, never scream with pleasure and never experience the meaning of love. Your life will be worse than your death ever could be." He whispered the words into her ear and she tried to ignore them. "Maybe in ten or twenty years I'll drop by. And if you ask me nicely, maybe I'll give you the one thing you are longing for by then…"

She kept on praying for a miracle to end this nightmare, to send this monster back to hell. The weight on her body was unexpectedly removed that she realized her rescue only after a few instants.

"You damned piece of shit, who do you think you are?"

The words were drowned out by the sound of the breaking table as the body of her attacker hit it. A tall, dark-haired man stood in the middle of the room, a blonde woman at his side. Cecily opened her mouth to thank him as his face morphed. He rushed over to her tormentor, grabbing his neck and lifting him up with one hand.

"You impertinent little asshole, tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

The blonde stepped to the dark-haired woman. "Angel is in a very bad mood. We couldn't leave the town as planned, because the corpse of a young aristocrat was fished out of the river. The main roads are closed. A lot of Bow Street Runners are patrolling, so it was impossible to hunt, therefore …"

Her eyes fixed on the bed. "Did he fuck her? You know, Angel hates it, if…"

Cecily didn't catch the rest, because the pain when the second earring was torn out emptied her mind of any coherent thoughts.

"No, we just played with her. Taste. Sweet and rich."

A throaty cough came from the other side of the room and the dark-haired woman went over to the two men, while the blonde licked the blood from the earring.

On the edge of agony, Cecily helplessly watched the scene.

"I am the master of the town, you little wanker. I hunt and I kill. Yours are the leftovers, after my ladies feed. I am sick of telling you this night after night."

His fingers closed tightly around the nude man's throat. "Remind me why do I not stake you?"

"Because nobody sucks your..."

The fist of the dark-haired man crashed into the face of his opponent.

"Daddy..." the woman nestled herself into his coat. "I like his stories, I like how he touches me, I would be so sad if I have no one to play…"

"Leave him alone, Angel," the blonde said. "And come here."

A moment passed with complete silence. Then the naked man thudded to the ground.

"Get out, before I change my mind," Angel hissed.

William crept to the door on his knees. He slowly pulled himself up and stumbled across the hall to another room. Inside, he rested against the wall and touched his nose. Broken, no doubt. His lower lip was bleeding. His rib cage felt broken too.

Shrugging, he went to the window and looked into the darkness. It doesn't matter. In a few hours he would be fine again. One of the advantages of being a vampire. Like his sharpened eyesight which enabled him to spot his prey even in a moonless night. Or his supernatural hearing that allowed him to perceive the sound of Cecily's piercing screams like she was standing next to him.

The door opened and closed.

Dru's arms clung around him. She put her cheek on his back. "My poor baby," she whispered, caressing his chest. "My poor, poor baby."

As he remained silent she stepped beside him and looked up into the sky too. "The stars are talking to us," she whispered. "All we have to do is listen."

He sighed. Usually after having fed her mind was lucid, but tonight she seemed to be entirely caught in her own world.

"The stars know the answers to all questions. Even to questions which aren't born yet. Some day my baby will be mightier than he is, some day my baby will get the only thing he is longing for…"

William tuned out her voice; her madness was more than he could bear at that moment.

The screams stopped abruptly.

Dru kissed his sore lips carefully and went down on her knees. He closed his eyes and felt her velvety mouth envelop his cock. No conscience, no mercy, no regrets. Therefore, the tiny droplet glistening on Dru's dark hair couldn't be a tear at all.

~ Fin ~