Eternally Yours

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Title: Eternally Yours

Rating: NC 17 for violence, gore, death and vamp eroticism.

Summary: Rampant jealousy amongst Darla’s childer amuses her.

Distribute: Take as you please.

Disclaimer: I wish Angelus was my stallion…but he’s not. And that makes me sad.

“Where are they?”

“Darling, why don’t you stop your silly sentry, and come and have a drink with me?” Darla’s voice sang like rough silk, smooth and rich, vehemently evil.

“Not now," he replied, casting her a small glance about his shoulder. He wasn’t in the mood to play, his words taught with obvious unease. But Darla neither noticed nor cared, and with intentional indignation, carelessly she pressed him again.

“But darling, really…she tastes so good—”

“I said NOT NOW. Darla! I mean it!”

He heard her sigh, dramatic and pouting. She did it a second time, and the sound only angered him further.

“But she’s so warm and sweet,” His sire whined. “And you said it yourself, you were feeling a little peaked. If you’d stop that silly pacing and pay a meal a mind, maybe you’d get over your recent inabilities, and return to the Angelus I adore. Then you could do the things you do best. You’ll feel so much better…and then so will I… Really, Angelus! I’m tired of this suit! It’s boring! And fickle. And more importantly, your reputation is at stake. I want the old Angelus back! The sadistically fun one… And I’m not the only one, Dru should be so thrilled. She’d have her Daddy back, I’d have my boy, and besides…then I wouldn’t have to resort to toying with William.”

The implication alone stung at his goaded nerves. The purposeful insult caused a silent stab of rage to invade his body. It quivered through his limbs, but he didn’t let it own him. Pushing it down, biting down the desire to take her by the throat and with only his hands savagely bash the insolent smirk from her impudent face, Angelus swallowed down the urge. She’d like that, love it, for him to take her and bludgeon her. She might even fight back, but more than likely not. Afterwards she’d laugh, and ask him to take her. And then he would, and she’d have won.

But not this time - Angelus was tired of being the loser. He was tired of her leash, and he was adamant that he was not going to let her choke him with it.

Rage aside, he remained perfectly calm, though he glared at her with outright hatred. He didn’t say a word. Only let his silence speak for him. And with a huff, Darla gave in. She offered him a grin, and some of his anger drained away.

“Oh, Angelus, come! Just see how delicious she is!” She propped up one of the girl’s limp wrists. “I promise it, love. You wont be disappointed…”

The corpse lay crumpled in her lap on the floor; it’s face hidden from him by a tangled mass of hair. Darla stroked the hair away, uncovering a set of glassy eyes - grey as a storm, yet also so lifeless. They seemed to stare right through him, right into nothingness - but it wasn’t something that bothered him. Oh, on the contrary. He was quite indifferent to the eyes of death. Sometimes he even found interest in eyes like those, and would play with them curiously for hours on end, literally play with them - softly roving his fingertips over their smoothness, rolling them firmly across the surface of his palms, feeling them pop between the weight of his fingers - after he tore them from the bloody sockets of his victim du’ jour.

“Really,” Darla went on with a giggle. “I bet if you’d take just the smallest sip, you’d find she melts in your mouth! And then you’d probably want her to yourself, and I’d have to pry her away from your cold, dead fingers.”

The Scourge of Europe regarded her with dark, ominous eyes. The blonde stared back, unabashed.

He answered her by turning his back on her to once again stare out the window.

“Suit yourself then!” She scathed bitterly. But as always her temper was short-lived. Her snarl turned upwards, and a blossoming smirk bore her jagged teeth, saturated with gore and menacingly sharp. Gazing smugly at her lover from across the parlor, she waited for a final retort, but he only ignored her; focusing his concern on the view through the window and not the fading heat in the body at her mercy.

Finally bored with it all, Darla relented. She turned her attention back to the corpse. Lifting its head, neck twisted at quite the unnatural angle, she ran her bony fingers down its slip of a throat. The throat was beautiful, with silky soft skin the texture of warm butter. And it smelled almost as sweet as fresh baked bread, yes it did. The image of a little girl following that aroma, skipping towards a bakery with so much anticipation popped into her head. Then of course when the girl arrived she were no longer a girl but Darla herself, and it weren’t a bakery but a butchers block with pounds of not animal flesh but human carcasses hanging from hooks! They drained easily into large wine barrels that sat open on the floor welcoming her. Oh, what a wonderful thought!

Darla sighed, nearly loosing herself in the morose dream. And almost as an after thought she whispered, “But I wont let her go to waste.”

“Drink her then,” Angelus growled; his thick Irish brogue plagued with worry. “An’ quickly! Time’s a runnin’ out. We’ll hafta be movin’ on soon.”

“MMmmm,” Darla mused, golden eyes closing as she enjoyed the aroma. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Angelus scowled to himself as he heard her fangs tear deep into the jugular. Darla wasn’t the most modest of drinkers, and had never put much thought into table manners. The sound of her deep, satisfied suckling filled his ears, loud enough to cause his stomach to growl…metaphorically speaking.

He was a little hungry.

Darla giggled as she drank, elixired. The thick, sweet blood on her tongue, already cooling from death, was all fun and games to her. For Darla, it was always fun and games. She lived for the hunt. Thrived on the kill. Lapped mockingly in ecstasy as the life of innocent humanity flooded her veins - making her stronger, more powerful, and ultimately, hungrier.

Darla was a vampire; vampyre as was spoken in the old days by her master. And she was surely one of the most dangerous.

Unfortunately the woman on the floor hadn’t realized that until it were far too late.

And now she lay cradled in her hunter’s arms, in what could look from afar like a lover’s embrace if not for the cold, dead stare. The gaping wounds in her neck told a blood-chilling tale, but her pale, blank features told nothing of the horrors she’d met earlier that night. And horror it had been, when she was ripped out of this world with cruel and violent misery. Darla had mentally tortured her a while, scaring her nearly to death too many times before finally tired of the games, the monster had given in and finally twisted her neck. And immediately after Darla had sampled a taste, and O’ how good it had been!

From the first moment Darla had seen the slip of a girl she wanted her. She’d watched her move, nervously tugging her cloak closer about her as her hurried steps carried her on thin legs over the cobblestone streets towards home. Her late night venture to the city’s market would be her end. There was no doubt in Darla’s mind about that.

She had had long dark hair, raven black in contrast to Darla’s own blonde. In fact she looked completely different from her would-be killer, for besides their pale skin, they shared nothing in common. And tragically that skin had been something of a calling card for the monster. The Vampire had taken one look at the delicate blue veins peeking through that delicately thin, fair flesh, and she’d wanted to sink her teeth into it. And what Darla wanted, Darla got. And she was never anything short of vicious at getting it.

After they’d followed the girl home, gotten themselves invited inside—a deadly mistake that would have never given her even a fighting chance—the young woman’s pleas to Angelus for help as he stood idly by watching Darla taunt and tease her did nothing but make his beautiful Sire enjoy it all the more.

“Sir, please!” The maiden had wailed and Darla had mimicked her.

Angelus smiled down with sympathy but gave a shrug as Darla caught her by the hair and pulled her back. The girl screamed out then sniveled and cried, and finally Angelus disrupted the game.

“Enough of it, Darla,” he had said, giving the naïve young maiden a sliver of hope that he might in fact help, help her to somehow escape the cruelty of his golden haired mistress. And then she’d slipped out of Darla’s fingers and ran into his arms, and playing the game he stared down into her large, terrified eyes and smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile that slowly faded into a moving and poignant expression, his angelic features flashing both empathy and pain.

She’d taken a step back; her delicate wrist bound in his tightening grasp. He’d nearly crushed her bones before she realized it, beginning to tremble. His sad frown turned up into a cruel and vicious grin, and with her shriek he tossed the flailing girl back into his mistress’ arms and Darla bared her true visage as her teeth gnashed together in a gnarly twist of ugliness. The girl managed one last scream before Darla finally took her by the jaw and twisted. With a violent crack, the spinal chord severed, and the girl went limp, body cascading to the floor.

Cracking open a finely boned corset was like cracking open the shell of a crab. And Darla licked her lips in anticipation as she tore open the cloths covering a breast. A second later, her fangs pierced the creamy white flesh and the swell of liquid that protruded tasted of heaven, the only heaven that a demon like Darla would ever know.

Now as she sucked and swallowed from the two gaping wounds on the body’s throat, Darla laughed, and hard indeed. The memory of the look on the girl’s frightened face had made it all the more fun. Taunting her prey before catching it was ritual; the more drama involved, the better. And she was pleased with her indulgence, very pleased. Now the only thing amiss was the excitement from her lover.

Darla gazed up through yellow eyes at Angelus. But there was no use trying. Something troubled him; something always seemed to trouble him lately. And alas, he would not be joining her again.

Too many nights had gone on this way, and Darla’s patience with her dear boy was wearing thin. She’d have gotten up and made him feed with her, if she hadn’t been enjoying herself so much. And his loss was her gain, so she continued to drink, and quickly, almost draining the lump of meat in her lap.

“They’re not coming,” he said angrily once she’d finally had her fill. His tall, bulky frame blocked the view to the street. Through the glass pane all Darla could see was night. And what a marvelous night it was, she thought, slipping back into human form and taking care to wipe her lips clean.

“Of course they’re coming,” she replied, rising to her feet. She straightened her dress, smoothing down it’s skirts then crossed the floor to stand at his side; his six foot two build overwhelmingly tall beside her gentle and petite structure. “Then they’re late again,” Angelus said. “And I’m sick of this.”

“What do you care if they’re late? All you should be concerned with is right here in this room.”

“I’m concerned because the later they ‘r, the more dangerous this becomes.”

“You shouldn’t preoccupy yourself with danger, it’s neither here nor there. What you really should do is drink.” Her toned softened noticeably, and he had to remember his stoic posture as her hands snaked about his waist, her chin coming to rest against his shoulder. She had to stand on tiptoe just so she could see past him, and she gazed out into the dark. Not even the moon lit the view. No stars. Just dark, bleak, black sky.

“She’s nearly cold, Angelus. And I saved a bit for you.” Her voice came out mumbled against the elegant fabric of his fashionably smart jacket. His shoulders slunk in a sulk and it wasn’t such an effort to look past his shoulder anymore. Darla’s heels fell flat against the floor, and finally after a moment, his hands tentatively touched at hers, caressing them and taking in their stolen heat. Warm hands did feel good, they did.

“After you’re done nibbling on her, I have a mind to nibble on you,” She said softly.

“But Drusilla isn’t back yet.” He sighed.

“Well, I said ‘YOU’, not ‘Drusilla’.” Darla bit, lifting her chin from his shoulder abruptly.

“I’m not doin’ a thing,” Angelus resolved. “Until me’ Dru is home safe an’ sound. An’ if she aren’t home soon, I tell ya, that William will be findin’ ‘imself bound an’ gagged on the rooftop come sun up. An’ I mean it!”

“Oh, you always mean it," Darla said drolly, letting her arms fall away. She turned and stomped towards a bureau, deciding she’d rather pilfer this pathetic little house than stand and listen to Angelus declare his love of Dru once more.

Nothing wore on her nerves more than listening to her dear boy angst about his Dru.

“He’s keepin’ her out too late,” Angelus mumbled, leaning forward to peer down into the poorly lit street. “He’s going to get her killed.”

“I wish for once he would!” Darla snapped, grabbing a knob to a drawer in the desk.

With all her might she ripped it from it’s setting and flung it’s contents angrily across the room.

Angelus stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he said nothing. It was hard to ignore her outbursts, but he was getting better at it. It had almost become a nightly custom, their fights and battles over food and Dru.

Watching him briefly, Darla heaved a noisy sigh and started digging through the mess upon the floor. Angel kept vigil at the window waiting for a sign of his daughter and her pet, William the Bloody – Angelus’ decided inferior. Angelus would watch, but it would be a long wait.

The young couple - still out on the prowl on the more vivacious side of town - were not yet ready to come home. There were too many warm bodies to drink and too many stouts of ale left to guzzle. And quite frankly they were having too good a time. William spent the evening yapping and drinking at a table of gamblers whilst Dru danced her own private dance alone near a roaring fire. They’d do this a while, pretending to be one of them, pretending to be one of the living, until the living began to bore them. And then they’d shed bled, shed it all over the pub’s bare wooden floors.

Angelus would be furious when they arrived back; too close to dawn to move on and Willy quite drunk on the blood of the town’s most obnoxious. The smell alone would be enough to send Angelus into a fury, however his vengeance on the young and drunk killer would be short-lived. They’d have their words, their clash, the women their laughs. William would have his embellished tales to brag about, and then the sun would rise and they’d all retire to a barricaded room for a much-needed rest.

It was how it was, how they were, this monstrous family of four. There was no changing it, though Angelus reminisced simpler times when it were only the three. Why he’d ever allowed Dru to make William of all people a part of them, it was something he’d never comprehend.

With a sigh, Angelus gave up the wear of watching, and finally gave in to his hunger. He turned from the window, satisfactorily to Darla finished off the corpse, helped Darla plunder the house, and eventually when they were grew bored enough, took part in a sadistic game of rearranging the carcass into the most peculiar of positions. Angelus felt a familiar stir of arousal during their game. But they’d be interrupted by the children before he could take her.

“Daddy’s angry,” Drusilla mumbled, lips pouting as she followed William to the door. The blonde man stopped to stare at her. “He’s angry, and he wrestles with Grandmum in a sea of white lilies wilting with death.”

He had to stop and think about it, but her description clicked.

“Having a jaunt in the hay, is he?” William smirked, and then took up the handle on the door. “And here I was worried he was going poofy,”

“Only when he lies with you.” Drusilla grinned, and William’s smirked fell to nothing.

“Come inside, Dru,” He muttered, opening the door and holding it aside for her. “Night’s wearing thin, and we’ve an angry sire to face.”

“Oh, you’re such a gentleman,” She cooed, and then flung her arms about his neck to kiss him deeply. “Always opening doors, always letting me play first, why you’re the best little Spikey a girl could ever have!”

“You know I’m dedicated to you, pet.”

“Like a bee to a flower, sting, sting.”

“That’s right, love. And I’ve a growin’ hunger to sting you tonight.” His head dipped to nibble at her ear in the half opened doorway as she let her head fall back, giggling madly.

Angelus stood inside the room glaring down upon the two lovers. Darla was at his side, a few steps behind him as was usual, but she didn’t look very taken with the situation. She looked rather bored, actually. Even as Angelus stormed forward and grabbed William by the throat to toss him across the room.

William stumbled into the furniture. With a stabbing pain his head ricocheted off the corner of a very plain, yet functional table. It pushed the table into the wall, and William hit the floor in a heap. A warm trickle at the back of his skull told him he was bleeding. But even as Angelus stomped forward and grabbed him up again he began to laugh sadistically. It only prompted Angelus further.

“I told you not to keep her out all night,” He said, casting a glance at Dru still standing in the doorway. Her chin was lowered, hands clasped simply at the front of her gown, lips turned down, but her eyes blazing in the shadows as she watched her sire advance on her only pet. She made not a move to stop it, didn’t even acknowledge Darla’s presence when her elder had joined her near the door, standing boredly at the clairvoyant’s side.

Darla trifled with a piece of dried blood beneath her nail. She worked hard at removing it, silently awaiting the scuffle to end so that she and her lover could get back to more important things, like ravagin each other buck-naked before their corpse. It was something she’d been looking forward to doing all night, and she wasn’t about to give up the idea just because the children were home.

“Are you a fool!” Angelus demanded taking William by the collar and raising him off his feet.

“No harm, we went out for a little drink is all,” William struggled to say against the pressure on his larynx. Angelus dropped, more like threw, him to the floor. And he slid on his rear end into the wall. Angelus bore down on him, seething over him like a raging bull, and looked quite wretched as he gave him a disgusted look.

“You smell like a brewery,”

“That’s because I drank the brewery,” William answered and then giggled. Drusilla suddenly lit up, giggling loudly, and both Angelus and Darla gave her a disturbed look.

“How many did you kill?” Angelus demanded, turning his attention back to William.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Spike answered leisurely. “Five, maybe ten, maybe a room of them—”

“FOOL!” Angelus blasted and swung his fist into his face. William laughed no more, coughed up blood instead and stared bitterly up into the face of his elder. “Ya kill a pub full of people and then ye can’t leave town because the mornin’ sun is o’ the rise! What is wrong with ya! Have ye gone mad!”

“Maybe Drusilla is contagious.” Darla shrugged. Only Drusilla paid her any mind.

“Grandmummy, you hurt my feelings.”

“Oh, shut up, Dru.”

“I’ve warned ye about this,” Angelus growled. He took William by the leg and began to drag him toward the stairs. “I’ve warned ye and warned ye, time an’ again!”

“What—Where are you taking me!” William all but shrieked.

“Daddy!” Drusilla cried, rushing to her sire and grabbing at his shoulders. Angelus flung her off, right into Darla, and the two women stumbled back as Angelus began a mad ascent up the stairs, dragging William. William’s head hit every rough step of the way as he scrambled in vain and flailed, trying to grab a hold of something, anything - the banister, the walls - to catch onto something in order to stop Angelus’ vicious tirade.

“Onto the roof with ya!” Angelus growled and suddenly Drusilla started screaming and William’s eyes went wide. Glancing out the windows, Darla’s lips stretched wide. The sky was lightening considerably, morning on its way. And Angelus really was going to toss William out onto the roof! Darla was giddy at the excitement of having her old Angelus back! The cruel and ruthless and spontaneous one; the one that caused the fire to erupt in her loins. The one she was proud to call her own, and not the careful, apathetic one who acted more like an old man than the natural born killer he deserved to be!

By now Angelus and William had disappeared up the stairs and Dru was following with her mad pleas to stop it. With a selfish snicker, Darla flung herself after. She wouldn’t risk any time to miss this. The evening ended with Angelus finally relenting to allow Spike to live. A few more moments on that rooftop and they’d all have been dust in the wind if Angelus hadn’t finally let William up.

Now William sat in a dark corner with a devoted Dru promptly at his side, licking his wounds and paying no more mind to the bigger man in the opposite corner, still glaring madly in their direction. Darla sat at a vanity, carelessly running a stolen brush through her long silky strands as she hummed softly to herself; the mirror before her devoid of any of the faces in the room, and only the reflection of a body propped up on the bed. They were locked into an inner room of the house, a bedroom with only one small window, which had been covered completely with a thick and heavy drape and therefore left no threat of day.

Throughout the rest of the house all of the other doors had been locked and windows shaded too, to protect against the eyes of outside intruders, so that any passer by wouldn’t notice the destruction within and wouldn’t blow the lid on their little entourage of killers. Stuck in a house all day, the four definitely didn’t need an angry mob trying to tear it down.

“I’m tired.” Darla announced, though not to anyone in particular. Angelus shifted his gaze to meet hers, and Dru and Spike in the corner gave her the meekest glance. Darla set down the brush and then eloquently rose to stand at the foot of the bed. With gentle hands she grasped at the buttons on her dress, slowly slipping them from their eyes to let the fabric fall from her body. She took care to look at each face fully, examining, deciding, who would accompany her tonight. “William.” She said warmly, and a shiver of resentment shimmied up Angelus’ spine. William flinched, staring up hard at his lady. Drusilla’s fingers clutched tighter to his forearm, and her face was white with shock and displeasure. Darla didn’t mind though. Her fingers graced the ties of her bodice and she started to tug. Very slowly William rose to his feet, Drusilla’s hands slipping impishly away. He gave her a look of the saddest regret but started towards Darla anyway. Dru’s bottom lip pouted, beginning to tremble as it appeared she were about to cry. Angelus’ eyes narrowed to slits and he glared at his mistress as she took his rival to bed. Perching upon the mattress, William began to silently undress. And when he was bare-chested, Darla ran her fingers over his alabaster skin. “MMmm,” She moaned softly and his hands began to touch her as well. From her corner, Drusilla let out the smallest of whimpers. It caused Darla to finally look her way. “Alright, Dru,” Darla said lazily, sitting back from Spike. “You come too.” Drusilla’s frown immediately ceased, and with an excited giggle she was on her feet and on the bed and in the arms of Spike kissing him greedily as they fell back upon the mattress. Darla watched with subtle amusement before William stopped to kiss her too.

An angry hiss erupted from Angelus, and Darla locked eyes with him. He looked almost in pain, as William’s hands found their way over Darla, over HIS Darla, touching her swells and toying with her parts, all the while Drusilla bobbing over him. Darla offered him a sweet smile, and in confusion, Angelus started to rise.

“NOT YOU.” Darla said, pushing away from Spike and glaring ruefully at Angelus. His face fell and she snickered, taunting him all the more. “The only companion you’ll have tonight is her!” And she grabbed up the corpse and threw it at him. Angelus looked outright enraged. The corpse struck him and he warded it off, collapsing it to the floor. It had already started to stiffen, and so it’s half naked body rested very unevenly, muscles arched and limbs extended. As the sounds of love making erupted in his ears, Angelus gave the menagerie a final venomous glare, purposefully resting his eyes on a now naked Darla the longest before dejectedly sinking back into his corner and remaining there in silence. He tried to get as comfortable as possible on the hardwood floor, for it would be a long day. Hours later, Angelus was nudged from sleep.

“What?” He asked flatly, staring at his mistress who knelt before him in the dark.

“Do you forgive me?” Darla asked in her sweetest voice.

Angelus didn’t answer; he seemed to ponder the question.

“Darling, please,” She laughed in a whisper, hesitating not to reach out and stroke his face.

“What about William?” Angelus scoffed, turning his face away to keep her from touching him.

“William is asleep,” Darla mused. “And so is Dru.”

“Well, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Well…you did.”

Darla’s finger traced the lines of his face. Angelus stay very still as she caressed him. She seemed to hold no intention of leaving him be, just wanting to continue stroking his face. Angelus held on to his pride for as long as he could, held fast to his will and didn’t fall into her clutches too easily. But finally with a sigh he reached out and touched her back. With a triumphant grin she melted into his arms.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” She said.

“No, ‘yer not, but I appreciate the lie all the same.”

She pulled back to stare into his darkened features, and couldn’t help but smile when she met his evil gaze.

“You know I only do it to toy with your emotions.”

“That I do know.”

“My lust is with you,”

“And my lust yours.”

“Except for Drusilla?” She arched her brow.

“Well,” He smiled, caught in a fib. “She has me heart…

Darla’s smile faded.

“But me soul belongs to you.”

“Oh, my dear boy…”

Their lips met in a tirade of harsh kisses and nips. She moved her body dryly over his, feeling him react and relishing in the power of tease.

“And what about William?” He managed once more from behind her lips.

“My dear Angelus…” She quipped, suckling his ear. “You needn’t worry. You know that I am eternally yours.”

Immediately her hands snaked into his pants and she sprang his hardened cock free. Angelus rolled her over, pinned her to the floor, and tore the breeches from her thighs.

He stabbed himself into her loins, and took her atop the corpse.

Though he felt the reigns of control slipping again, for she’d ended up getting her way, Darla had enjoyed it all immensely and didn’t seem to gloat. This left Angelus with what he figured to be some dignity. Besides, honestly, he’d enjoyed it too.