Clavian Tryptich by Schehrezade

Chapter #1 - Chapter One

There were rumours spreading all along the demonic grapevine, the Slayer was dead. A new Slayer had been called. Somewhere on the West Coast of America, there was freshly minted Slayer blood ready for the taking. His fangs itched slightly at the memory of the Chinese Bint who had been his first Slayer kill - her blood had been rich and filled with power. His cock hardened at the memory of that first taste of Slayer blood, filled with the vigour of all her predecessors, ripe and lush, her flavour heavy on his taste buds as he gorged himself on the finest vintage of blood a vampire could ask for. And the fucking over her cooling corpse after the fight had been an added bonus. Spike sighed happily at the memory of Dru's cool slender legs wrapped around his hips as they hand screwed and frolicked in the Buddhist Shrine. It had been a good night for him, finally rising to ascension as a Master vampire, on equal footing with his Grandsire, if not above him. As far as Spike knew, Angelus had never bagged a Slayer in his unlifetime, and now that he was all soul having, somehow the peroxide vampire couldn't see it happening anytime soon. Spike slouched down on his seat, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and listened to the excited rumblings around him in the seedy demon bar he was currently patronising. All around him were demons of various shapes and sizes, all celebrating the death of the previous slayer. She had been killed by a seemingly random accident. A lorry had struck her whilst she had been out on patrol. 'Must've made a right mess of the bint, entrails flying all over the place.' The black clad vampire smirked at the thought, part of him wishing he had been there to give her a good fight and a decent death. Warrior to warrior, vampire to slayer, fists and fangs to the death. Instead, her death would be a semi comedic footnote in the annals of history: 'death by truck'. Hardly how any slayer, no matter how worn down by their calling, should be remembered. How humiliating. But Spike knew better. He'd heard that she had stepped out in front of it, ending her life in seconds. He smirked, wondering if her death wish had finally bitten her on the arse or if it had been something to do with the fact that her entire family had been wiped out by some vamps. It had to have been a blood bath; there were several siblings as well as her parents. From all accounts, all were artfully arranged around the dinner table with their meals untouched before them, almost as if they were waiting for her return before beginning. Spike had to give the cadre their due – their maliciousness had an Angeluslike edge to it. Though to be honest, they had just cause. The Slayer had dusted their leader and revenge was sweet. What were a few more dead mortals in the grand scheme of things? Spike shrugged and then turned his attention to the scene before him. A rotund grey haired middle-aged man was tied to the pool table, spread eagled and naked. Rivulets of blood sluggishly anointed his pale body and adding to the rapidly expanding pool under his shaking form-- irrevocably staining the baize on the table for all eternity. The Watcher had been a pathetically easy catch. He had walked into the pub unaware of its more colourful clientele and now he was the entrée. But when he had started babbling within minutes of being tortured about the new Slayer, Spike noticed a couple of vamps disappear into the night in search of their Master with the news of her being called. He had recognised the scent of them. They belonged to the pompous arse Lothos, who as far as Spike knew, had a bigger yen for slayers than he did. Spike shrugged. It was fine with him if the old poseur wanted to have a pop at the newbie Slayer, he and Dru had plans for the summer. He had settled down to watch his darling minx of a sire play with the flabby mortal. Ordering up another pint and settling in for the show, his Drusilla was nothing if not thorough. She had been taught by the best - or so he thought he was - a legend in his own pathetic Potcheen sozzeled mind. Angelus. Spike raised his pint in a silent toast to the clan of Gyppos that had finally gotten rid of the Irish pain in his arse. Which in turn had gotten rid of the Ice Queen Darla, the displaced whore scurrying off to her Master once the dust had settled in China . 'Good riddance to the ol'bag,' Spike sighed happily. With Darla's exit from their lives, he and Dru had blossomed. The two of them caused bloodshed and mayhem wherever their feet took them, and right now they were firmly planted here in a dingy pub in Dover , waiting for the ferry to take the two of them to France . His darling Drusilla wanted to go on a ‘Grand Tour’, just like she had when she had been mortal, and who was he to deny her anything? So he had plotted out their tour of Europe , carefully picking out towns and cities were he knew Dru would be happy. The one place she had insisted on visiting was Prague . For a brief moment she had stared intently at him and then wrapped her long pale hands around his wrists. Spike had recognised the look in her eyes; she was having one of her 'turns'. He had waited for the babble to begin, wondering what nonsense he would have to decipher. Instead, she had smiled and breathed one word into his receptive ears. Prague . So he had added it to the top of his list, knowing that if they didn't go there then he might wake up one morning with one of his precious nuts missing. His Dark Princess was unpredictable and dangerous, a mix that he adored with a blinding passion. Since that fateful night in the alley, he had loved her and watched over with a deeply abiding adoration that surprised the hell out of any demon they encountered. But he irrevocably belonged to her; she was his to worship and guard with his unlife. He kept one careful eye on Dru, who was sampling the goods off the captured Watcher. He had finally broken down and revealed the new location of the baby Slayer. ‘Pity Lothos’s minions missed that…oh well…’ His heavy brows knitted together as he watched his Dark Plum slowly and lasciviously lick her way down the stomach of the catatonic man and lap delicately at the grey hairs surrounding the man's flaccid cock. "Dru," he rumbled warningly. There was only so much he would put up with and watching his sire giving a wrinkly old fart a blowjob was not one of those things. It had been bad enough back in the day when Darla had dragged them off to see her 'Daddy' and The Master had insisted on the girls seeing to him, whilst he and the Poof had watched. Spike grimaced and took a long pull on the pint of Guinness that he was cradling in his hands. His darling knelt up and looked coyly over her shoulder towards him. Her hands resting absently on the quivering inner thighs of the soon to be dead Watcher, her white tipped scarlet talons flexing into the soft flesh like a kitten kneading it's mother's belly. Her citrine coloured eyes glittered maliciously over at her childe and her lips of crimson slightly opened as her tongue lapped at them, capturing each drop of blood with relish. "But his blood calls to me." She cooed and pouted over at her stern faced childe. "M'sure it does, but from where I'm sitting, doesn't look like there's much blood in the git's floppy bits, so no need to go searching down there. I think most of it's either in your belly or on the felt, now come're and give us a cuddle." Spike gestured with his hand, hope glittering in his pale blue eyes that she would not put up too much of a fight in front of the other patrons. Drusilla pouted over her shoulder at him, and then with a toss of her brunette hair, looked back at the glassy eyed captive who laid spread eagled in front of her. She swayed like a cobra and then struck, draining the still form of all the blood that pumped lethargically in his veins. Slithering elegantly to the floor, the older vampire straightened her long skirt and dusted her hands dramatically before whirling around and around in circles with her arms raised above her head. Her sinuous hips twisting and turning in a hypnotic dance that entranced Spike within seconds, his pupils dilated as the lust within him rose even more. His cock pressed against the seam of his jeans, the zipper biting into him, making him sigh in pleasure of the slight pain that shot through him. "He tasted of books, dust and the wisdom of ages, my Spike," Drusilla trilled out as she stepped towards her entranced boy. Cocking her head to one side, a small smile curled the corners of her lips. "Will I be all clever now?" Drusilla whispered as she straddled his lap. Spike's hands automatically shot out and curled around her slender waist, steadying her. He leant in and lapped at the corner of her mouth, capturing a stray drop of Watcher blood. To him it tasted the same as any other mortals. "Already the smartest girl I know, m'love," he purred as she let him kiss and nibble his way down her thin blue veined neck. She squealed happily and wrapped her thin arms around his neck. "Feels so good, do it again, do it again," she chanted in his receptive ear. One hand slithering between their bodies, Drusilla petted the hardness of his cock with a happy purr. Spike complied and nibbled contentedly on her pale throat, unaware of one of his minions waiting to speak to him. Minutes passed as the entwined couple moved against each other, both of them lost in the sensations and sounds of their partner. The remaining patrons were used to their public displays of affection and ignored them. The pub landlord moved quickly to dispose of the corpse that adorned his pool table, as two of the Chirago demons wanted to play a round. "Erm," the bespectacled vampire coughed delicately, trying to get his Master's attention. Spike pulled away reluctantly from his darling girl’s lips and glared over at Dalton . "Wot?" "The ferry -- it's time to go--I have everything onboard, Sire." Dalton cringed slightly, waiting for the blow to his head. Drusilla stood and turned to the cringing vampire, reached over and petted him on the cheek. "Good boy. Daddy is very happy with you, now off you go and play with the moonbeams we will follow," she cooed. Spike stood fluidly, casually adjusting his cock into a more comfortable position and offered his arm to his Dark Queen. "Ready, luv?" He was eager to get on board and chain her up, and have his way with the bewitching minx that had saved his pathetic existence and showed him the way toward a better, more fulfilling life all those years ago in a dank stable. Drusilla clapped her hands together. "Oh yes...we will have such a summer...one that you will never forget. Let us be off...I want to play with the water nymphs and sea horses." She took his proffered arm and the formidable Aurelian vampires disappeared into the night. Leaving behind them a trail of mayhem and destruction as per usual, neither of them knowing that their idyllic existence would be torn apart by an angry mob by the end of their journey Fate had a funny way of biting you in the backside when you least expected it.