Blood Lust

The ballroom was quickly becoming crowded with guests, small groups of men and women in formal attire creating pockets to gossip or discuss business. Elizabeth Summers remained close to her parents, glancing around to see who was there from her small circle of friends and acquaintances. The petite blonde couldn't easily see Harmony or Tara, her two closest friends, but she knew they would be here somewhere.

"Why don't you two take a seat here and I'll bring you some punch?" Her father suggested, and her mother nodded.

"That would be wonderful, Rupert. We'll just wait here. Elizabeth, do you have your dance card?" Joyce Summers turned to her daughter. She knew that her Buffy was nervous on this, her debutante ball. Elizabeth reached into her silken purse and brandished the slip of paper.

"Yes, it's right here. But mama, what if no one asks me to dance?"

Joyce took a long look at the young woman, trying to use a critical eye and not that of a doting parent. Elizabeth was luminous in a light grey satin gown, the full skirts and tight bodice complimenting her slight form perfectly. The gown rested lightly just off her smooth shoulders, displaying just a hint of décolletage and leading an observer up to the long elegant line of Elizabeth's neck. Her golden curls were swept upwards to cascade down her spine. Touching her only child gently under the chin, Joyce smiled into the green eyes.

"Honey, you look breathtaking. The gentlemen will be begging to dance with you," she reassured.

Elizabeth smiled and her face became radiant as she blushed.

"You don't suppose....I mean, do you know if Mr Wyndham-Price will be attending, mama?"

Joyce knew she should berate her daughter for expressing her preference so early in her season, but she and Rupert had agreed that the match with the well to do young Englishman would be eminently suitable, not to mention bringing much needed funds into the family. The Summers' weren't exactly struggling and they would certainly be able to provide a dowry for their daughter but a good marriage would ensure financial comfort for both them and Elizabeth.

At that moment Rupert Summers returned with small glasses of punch, closely followed by another young woman dressed in a yellow gown.

"Elizabeth, I ran into Tara on my perambulations. I expect the pair of you have much talk about, so why don't you circulate? Your mother and I will remain here if you need us," her father gave her an encouraging smile.

Tara clasped Elizabeth's hand eagerly and pulled her friend to her feet.

"Come along, I have some people you simply have to meet, Buffy." With a slightly panicked expression on her face, Buffy allowed Tara to lead her into the throng.

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Spike thanked the doorman who took his coat after inviting him in. It had been a simple manner to drain one of the young bucks wandering around the town and steal his invitation to this event, and the place did not look like it would disappoint. The vampire scented the air deeply and suppressed a growl that sprang to his throat. The fresh young blood was so prevalent he could practically taste it, the pulsing rush of so many heartbeats sounding like waves breaking on the shore. His demon thrilled in anticipation of the hunt, the man in him eager to find a conquest. Spike walked through to the ballroom and assumed a vantage point from which to select his prey.

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Tara was chatting animatedly to a dark-haired gentleman, laughing and flirting. Buffy hung a little behind her friend, not wishing to seem as forward as the taller blonde.

"Elizabeth!" She heard her name exclaimed in cultured British tones, making her turn. Advancing towards her was Wesley Wyndham-Price, a gentleman who had been paying visits to her family's house for the last couple of months. Relief swept through her at the sight of him, and her heart sped a little faster as she took in his appearance. Wesley had always been smartly dressed on the occasions he had met with her father or attended dinner with her and her parents, but tonight he was so handsome in a dark green jacket and tailored trousers. Elizabeth held out her hand when he was a pace away.

"Mr Wyndham-Price, it is a pleasure to see you here this evening. How are you?"

Wesley took the offered hand in his own and raised it to his lips.

"Miss Summers, you look magnificent," he gushed, stunned.

"Thank you," she smiled and lowered her eyes. Wesley found this charming. She was so beautiful and so modest; he thought his heart would burst.

'The perfect bride,' he considered. Ever since he had first been introduced to Rupert Summers' daughter he had been determined to court her and win her hand. His family might not approve the union, but he was sure that any objections would be silenced in short order once his parents met the girl. She was so perfect, so sweet and well mannered, he knew he would be satisfied with no other.

"Don't look now, Buffy," Tara whispered.

"What is it?" Elizabeth tore her attention away from Wesley.

"Oh, just Cordelia Chase. Oh, how typical. Just look at that!" Tara gasped and Elizabeth turned her head, craning to see what had upset her friend.

Cordelia Chase was the heiress to the Chase shipping fortune, the crème of society here in Boston, and she made sure everyone knew it. Tonight her long brunette hair fell from a shining tiara, the diamonds echoed at her throat and ears, her dress of crimson damask silk. A space had formed around her although the men were beginning to converge. Elizabeth fancied she could see them salivating.

"Oh, Tara, we knew she would be here tonight. We shall just ignore her and enjoy ourselves nonetheless," Elizabeth turned back to Wesley.

"Elizabeth, please, would you do me the honour of the first dance? I believe the musicians will begin presently," Wesley didn't care for Cordelia Chase. He'd met her at one or two social gatherings and had found her to be brash and uncultured, with the addition of being utterly spoiled and selfish. No, he wouldn't be one of the many clamouring for that one's notice, although he was perversely grateful that she drew attention from his Elizabeth.

Elizabeth blushed prettily and accepted his kind invitation, her green eyes sparkling.

'Well, that's one dance down. I won't be going home in total shame!'

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Spike's hungry gaze appraised the crowd. He couldn't miss the entrance of the girl in the red dress since she'd gone to such lengths to ensure all eyes were on her. She was pretty enough, he supposed, but besides the diamonds she was wearing, there was nothing about her that held his interest. Moving on, he spotted a redhead in the opposite corner who looked as though she would rather be anywhere than here. Hmmm, promising. A little on the skinny side, but she might provide some sport. The tall blond began to cross the floor to engage his target in conversation when he heard a tinkling laugh to his left. There was something about that sound that caused all thoughts of the shy girl he had been intent upon to fly. Weaving through the assembly to locate the source of that musical noise, he was rewarded by the vision of an angel. Dressed in silvery grey, her jewellery simple but elegant, she could have stopped his heart if he'd been human. Her beauty was such that he was almost inspired to poetry, something he'd not felt since the night he'd died. He simply had to have her.

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Elizabeth shivered, feeling a sudden chill. Wesley noticed and drew closer

"Is everything alright, Elizabeth?" He inquired solicitously. The blonde smiled and nodded.

"Yes, I think I must have just caught a draft," she replied, casting a quick glance around. Inexplicably, she felt uneasy.

"Oh, the musicians are starting. Time to dance, Buffy!" Tara took Buffy's punch glass and placing on a table, the two girls accepted the arms offered by their escorts and allowed themselves to be guided onto the dance floor.

A waltz by Brahms began the set, and Elizabeth forgot her unease at the touch of Wesley's arm around her waist, holding her close. He led her confidently, if a little stiffly, revelling in the sensation of her body close to his.

"This is your first ball, is it not?" He forced himself to make conversation.

"Yes. I'm glad you're here, Wesley. I had nightmares about spending all night sitting with my parents and not being asked to dance," she confessed.

Wesley practically gaped at her in astonishment.

"Whyever would you be worried on that account? Surely you have many acquaintances who would fill your dance card in no time," he simply couldn't believe Elizabeth would think such a thing possible.

"We only have a few family friends. Father has many business associates, but many are already married," Elizabeth told him.

"Oh! I didn't mean anything uncomplimentary," Elizabeth was mortified when she realised what she was suggesting. Wesley simply laughed.

"It's quite alright Elizabeth. I don't take offense that easily."

The waltz finished and they separated, applauding politely. Tara moved to her side and manouevred her to a quiet table.

"Elizabeth! Why on earth didn't you tell me you had an admirer?" Tara hissed. Elizabeth was perplexed.

"Tara, I'm not sure at all you could call Mr Wyndham-Price an admirer," she admonished her friend.

"Not him. The tall blond gentleman by the fireplace. Who is he? He's so handsome!" Tara indicated the man in question. Elizabeth followed Tara's nod and instantly her eyes met the stranger's deep blue ones. Her stomach clenched and she had the sensation of falling far and fast, so much so that she took a tiny step forward. A chill rippled throughout her body, causing the hairs on the back of her neck rise in response before a hot burn replaced the ice. She struggled to breath and her throat felt tight. A lazy smile curved the newcomer's lips and Elizabeth was suddenly certain that he knew exactly the feelings she was experiencing. The suspicion started a blush that coloured her cheeks a dusky pink.

"Buffy? Who is that man?" Tara's voice freed her from her trance.

"I've never seen him before in my life," she declared. 'Only in your dreams,' a small voice contradicted.

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She was exquisite. Delicate, modest, beautiful and oh, so responsive. Spike chuckled to himself and closed in.

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"He's coming to introduce himself," Tara breathed in Elizabeth's ear.

Oh no, he couldn't. Elizabeth paled and her heart began to race. Spike heard his intended's reaction and savoured every desperate thud while mentally tightening the leash on which he held his demon. It wouldn't do to lose control here. No, that would wait until later, when he could lose control completely and indulge every wicked desire he held for the slender blonde.
Tara smiled invitingly at the mysterious gentleman, gripping Elizabeth's wrist tightly and turning her. The lean man gave them both a shallow bow.

"Good evening, dear ladies. As I know few people gathered here, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is William Devery."

Tara curtsied and gave him her hand. "Tara Henderson. I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr Devery," she held eye contact, smiling provocatively. Spike brushed his cool lips across the taller girl's knuckles.

"The pleasure is mine," he murmured. Straightening he looked expectantly at Elizabeth. Tara noticed that Elizabeth was hesitant, and spoke quickly.

"Mr William Devery, please may I present my very dear friend, Miss Elizabeth Summers."

Elizabeth shot her friend a despairing look. What was Tara thinking? This man was no acquaintance of theirs, there was no one to vouch for his standing or character. She quelled the tremor of excitement that ran along her spine and curled in her breast at the thought of his lips on her skin.

'Stop these thoughts!' She tried to reign in her inappropriate behaviour even as her arm rose, unbidden, placing her fingertips in Spike's hand.

"Enchantee, Miss Summers," Spike's voice was low and intimate, his fingers stroking softly against the pulse point of Elizabeth's wrist. Only could have heard the gasped intake of breathe his caress evoked and he smiled against her hand. Before releasing her, Spike used his unnatural speed to turn her hand and drop a chaste kiss in the palm of the girl's hand. Elizabeth snatched her hand back with a haste that was unseemly, her mouth a small oval of surprise and shock.

"Could I persuade either of you lovely young women to dance?" Spike's eyes were on Elizabeth's face as he spoke, leaving Tara under no illusions as to the subject of his invitation. Disappointed and yet excited for her companion, Tara deftly twitched Elizabeth's card from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

"Oh, Mr Devery, I'm afraid my card is full for the next few dances, but Elizabeth's is free."

The vampire grinned in pleasure and offered his arm to the frozen girl. "Shall we?" he asked, even as he caught her around the waist and swung her into the dancers.

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Elizabeth was unable to catch her breath, following her partner's lead and barely hearing the music.

"You seem unwell, Miss Summers. Do you need some air?" Spike's concerned tone penetrated her fugue and she looked up. That proved to be a mistake as she found herself trapped in his azure stare once again, incapable of thought or speech.

"Perhaps I should find a seat for you?" The vampire was amused at the consternation his presence created in the girl. There was no force that could persuade him to relinquish his grasp on the treasure he held in his arms, but while he played his part he must at least follow the proprieties. He allowed his fingers to caress her back through the fabric of her dress.

Elizabeth came to herself at the liberty and he suddenly saw a steely glitter in her candid green eyes.

"Mr Devery, I am quite well. But I must insist that you refrain from improper behaviour, else I shall be forced to inform my father," she retorted.

Spike's smile only widened, revealing his white teeth. Such fire and indignation in such a frail form! He was entranced by her, knowing he'd been fortunate indeed tonight.

"My apologies, Miss Summers. It was not my intention to upset you. I must confess that in all my travels I have never encountered a lady that fascinates me as you do, and I quite forgot myself," he assured her.

"Oh," Elizabeth subsided, unsure how she should respond to his declaration. The music ended and before she could make her escape Spike gathered her to him again for the next minuette.

"Have you travelled far then, Mr Devery?" Elizabeth asked. He was a superb dancer, liquid and graceful, his body muscular against her. Her hips followed his in every twist and spin, their movements in complete harmony as he guided her steps. His poise bespoke years of practice, and Elizabeth idly wondered how old he was. He looked no older than twenty-five, she estimated, so how long had he been attending functions such as this?

" I have. I've spent eight years touring Europe, only coming to the Americas eighteen months ago. I think you would be delighted by Paris and Rome," he added. 'Now where the hell did that come from?' he wondered.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. Nine and a half years travelling? He must have been with his parents, she supposed. She sighed, a small pout of longing showing on her face.

"I wish I could travel. I think it unlikely that I'll ever have the opportunity."

"Why's that, Elizabeth?" Spike was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on their small talk. The movement of her body against his was driving him to distraction, the scent and heat of her arousing him almost unbearably. She was lithe and supple in his arms, effortlessly matching him step for step and swaying against him as they moved. He could dance with her all night.

"Women cannot travel alone, and I doubt I shall be lucky enough to marry a husband who will be able to indulge my fancies," Elizabeth was honest about the pattern mapped out for her life. She knew she would have to marry before too long and begin her life as an established and respectable married woman, but there was still space for dreams and regrets. In her preoccupation she didn't object to Spike's familiarity in using her given name.

Spike pressed his advantage.

"That all depends on the man. A woman as rare and beautiful as you deserves a husband who will fulfill your every wish," he told her. He was astonished to realise that he meant every word; he hated the idea of the young woman before him being forced to settle for a man who would simply keep her at home, adjunct to his life and expecting only household management and the regular provision of child after child. Unconsciously he tightened his grip around the fragile beauty and Elizabeth gasped at his strength as much as his passionate statement.

Elizabeth felt a new sensation possess her, a tensing low in the pit of her stomach accompanied by an aching throb between her legs. Spike immediately sensed her arousal and found his rising in answer, knowing she would feel the hardness as he held her. Her eyes grew wide.

"What is that?" She whispered, startled and not a little frightened. The vampire chuckled and looked deep into her innocent gaze.

"That, my dear Elizabeth, is the physical evidence of how much you move me," he was frank, loving the fact that her expressions were so unguarded he could watch them chase across her features. They finally settled in confusion.

"I don't understand," she admitted.

"Here is not a good place for me to explain, sweet girl. Would you like to take some air?"

Elizabeth knew she should decline, that tongues would wag if she was found unchaperoned with a strange man, and that her parents would be furious. Curiosity and desire won, however, and she took Spike's hand, allowing him to draw her from the ballroom.

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Wesley had stood by, chatting first with Elizabeth's father Rupert and then with her friend Tara as Elizabeth and the stranger were lost to the music. Tara noticed his discomfort and endeavoured to engage him in witty conversation as her best friend spent dance after dance with the charismatic Mr Devery. Secretly, she was overjoyed that Buffy had met the newcomer: the pair seemed so much better suited than Mr Wyndham-Price and the vivacious blonde. Wesley became more and more infuriated as the evening progressed - what did Elizabeth think she was doing? He could see Cordelia Chase and her cronies watching and whispering, no doubt spreading dangerous and idle gossip. How could his Elizabeth compromise herself in such a way? He was preparing to cut in and separate the two when Tara pointedly remarked that he had not yet asked her to dance, and when he found his way from the floor he could see no trace of the girl he had come to love. Fear combined with jealousy to leave a bitter taste in his mouth and excusing himself, he began the search.

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"Are you warm enough, pet?" Spike enquired of his blonde beauty. 'And when did she become that?' he asked himself. No matter. He had her to himself now, and he was going to take full advantage of his opportunity.

Elizabeth nodded. "The air is chilly, but it's not snowing. I shall be fine," she assured him. He was handsome, she admitted. His sharp cheekbones and full lips could have been chiseled by a sculptor, his eyes dark wells that only enhanced his mystery. His body cut a dashing swathe in his long jacket and trousers, displaying his muscular form to perfection. A shudder that had nothing to do with the cold gripped her.

Spike felt the lust that caused her to trembled and smiled wolfishly. Using the excuse, he pressed closer to the girl and curved his arm around her.

"William...Mr Devery...please, we shouldn't...," Elizabeth whispered a halfhearted protest.

"Don't worry. We're alone here," he calmed her in hushed tones. The moon was a blindingly white crescent in a star-kissed sky, the air crisp and still as they stood in a secluded part of the garden, shielded from prying eyes by a tall privet hedge.

"I know...but, if someone should come," she was still hesitant and nervous. Her sensible side was screaming at her to return to the house, to leave this man in the garden, to run and not look back. Her heart was pounding and threatened to break if she left him, and so she was rooted to the spot, held to his side by her desire more surely than by his arms.

"Now, what were we discussing?" He murmured. "Oh yes....explaining how much you move me, Elizabeth."

And gods, did she. He could barely contain his need, the urge to plunder her and possess her utterly nearly overwhelming his reason. He knew, his demon knew, that he couldn't simply take this girl's virtue and drain her dry. He wanted to keep her with him for all time, and he knew just as certainly that nothing would prevent him.

He felt her scaldingly hot fingertips on his face, her touch along his cheek, gliding down to his lips as she marvelled at their softness. He kissed the exploratory digit, drawing one into his mouth and sucking on it briefly to pull a sigh from her.

"You're so cold," Elizabeth said, concern for him writ large on her face.

"It doesn't matter, love. Nothing matters. Only you," he told her the absolute truth. He saw her eyes glisten with moisture, her emotions so strong that she couldn't contain them.

"Don't cry, love," he soothed her, stroking her hair with his free hand.

"Oh, William. What are we doing? I feel...I feel as though I've known you my whole life. I feel as though you could ask me anything and I'd say yes. I feel as though I'd die if I wasn't with you," she told him, heedless of the consequences of her words, unaware of their effect on the man holding her.

Spike closed his eyes. His undead heart couldn't hold his emotions and he was struggling to contain his demon. How was it possible he could love a girl he'd only laid eyes on tonight? How was it possible he could love? And yet there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he did love Elizabeth. He burned with it, every part of him consumed beyond need, beyond lust, beyond hunger, all considerations seared to ash by the intensity of his adoration.

"Elizabeth, love, if I asked you to come with me tonight, to be free to travel the world, to see whatever you wanted, to go wherever you wanted with me, would you?"

Elizabeth's shocked inhalation told him all he needed to know, and he loosened his grip on her. She didn't want him. The pain lanced through the core of his being and the demon howled. He let her go, and it destroyed him.

Elizabeth stood next to him, realising she had done something wrong, and unsure how to mend it she reached out to grasp his sleeve as he turned away.

"William," she cried, unable to bear the knowledge that she'd caused him pain. This man who had offered her everything she'd ever dreamed of was turning away, withdrawing his offer, leaving her alone.

"William, "she breathed. "Yes, my answer's yes. I don't care where we go, I don't care about the scandal. William, I want you. Please....I love you," she heard her words and it was a release. She did, she loved this stranger who'd swept her off her feet and awakened her soul.

Spike spun and wrapped his arms around her slight frame, his eyes wide. He lifted her in his grasp and lowered his face to hers, his sapphire gaze searching hers. Elizabeth was breathing hard. God, he was so close, so close. His mouth found hers and she was transported to a paradise of cool, soft lips pressing against her warm ones, his tongue begging for entry. She was unable to deny him anything and her mouth opened, moaning when he explored her. Following his lead as she had on the dancefloor, her tongue found his, tangled and duelled, slid inside his coolness and they kissed for an eternity.

Spike pulled back and looked at her once more.

"Are you sure?" He gave her a last chance to save herself, although it cost him dearly.

Elizabeth pulled his head back to hers as she replied, "Yes, William. Oh yes."

The kiss was as deep as the first, but this time instead of withdrawing, the vampire moved to kiss and lick Elizabeth's neck, growling against her skin as she moaned and whimpered under his touch. He could wait no longer. His demon emerged to sink its teeth into his love's skin, drowning in her smell, her love and her trust. He drank deeply, listening carefully until her heartbeat stuttered and slowed. Elizabeth's eyes had closed as he sucked her lifeblood from her and he thought she was even more beautiful asleep. Biting his wrist, he held it to her pink lips and made her drink. She wrapped one hand around his, holding him to her as she fed from him, not relinquishing him even as she fell back and breathed her last.

"No!" Wesley's agonised shout was piercing, bringing partygoers tumbling out onto the lawn.

Spike gathered Elizabeth in his arms and ran, using every ounce of his unnatural speed to race across town to his haven and leaving the crowd far behind.

Tenderly he laid Elizabeth on his bed, lying next to her and stroking her hair as he waited for her to wake. Before sunrise, her green eyes fluttered open and she moaned, pressing a hand to her head. Looking up at him, she smiled and it was as radiant as the first time he'd seen it.

"Good morning, William, my love," she breathed. "Happy New Year."

The End