“Look; his fangs are bending,” Dawn giggled. She waved a dismissive
hand at the TV. “Sorry, but vampires? So not scary.”
Spike was lying on the couch, his head deep in the soft cushions heâd
piled up around him. He snorted. “Yeah. They never get the teeth right.”
“No,” Dawn said impatiently. “I mean real vampires. Not so scary, you
know?”
“What did you just say?”
Spikeâs voice was quiet but something deep inside Dawn quivered and
began to shriek out a warning. She turned her head, looking up at him.
“Well, youâre not,” she offered. “You donât scare me at all. T-Thatâs
all.” She smiled, her lip quivering slightly.
Spike glared at her and sat up, moving so quickly that he blurred and
she blinked hard trying to fill in the gaps left in her memory.
“Not what you said. Tell me; when youâre wandering around this town, at
night, alone, youâre not scared? Because you should be.”
“Cordelia used to kill vampires and if she can, anyone can,” Dawn said,
defiance sparking in her eyes. “Iâm - I was the Slayerâs sister. I know
what to do.”
The air pushed at her and she squeaked. Spike was behind her, one hand
pushing her head to the side, his fangs grazing along her throat.
“Youâre dead, Dawn. Now are you scared?”
She pulled free and stood up, temper rising. “No! Not of you. Fine, I
wonât take chances but I canât live being afraid.”
“Donât want you to. Just want...want you to have respect for us, is
all.”
Scorn coated the pretty face. “Respect? For vampires? Evil, soulless -
oh, not you, Spike, youâre different, youâve got the chip -”
“Fuck this.”
Dawn gasped. Spike never swore in front of her. Ever.
“You should be afraid of me. Of all of us. You shouldnât ever forget
what you are.”
“Human?”
“Food.”
She tossed her hair. “Whatever.”
He looked at her. “Supposed to take care of you, Bit.”
“You do!”
“Not doing it right...”
He was talking to himself now and Dawn stared at him curiously.
“Donât want to hurt you but I have to.” Spike sounded so upset that
Dawn couldnât help smiling.
“You couldnât hurt me, Spike! Chip, remember. Besides you wouldnât;
weâre friends, arenât we?”
He slumped back on the couch. “Sure we are. Being daft; ignore me.”
She laughed, relieved and feeling a little bit superior.
“Dawn?”
“Yes, Spike?”
“Go to the kitchen, would you? Fetch me a sharp knife?”
“Why?”
He reached over to the fruit bowl and picked out an orange, tossing it
high and catching it. He sent her a smile. “What? Vamps donât need
their vitamins?”
She smiled at him indulgently and went to get him a knife, picking up a
bag of chips on the way. She held it out to him and he shook his head.
“Come sit by me.”
She obeyed him, throwing the bag of chips onto the table. “Here you
are,” she said. ‘Donât like the peel getting under your nails? I hate
that; stings and feels all -”
“Shut up.”
Her eyes flew to his in shock and his hand moved up to grip her face.
“Look at me, Dawn.”
Blue eyes ... pretty, bright-blue eyes ...
“Thatâs it. Donât stop looking. Ever wondered how I manage now Iâm
chipped, Dawn? No, donât talk; not a word until I say. Thatâs a good
girl. My Little Bit. You thought Iâd stopped wanting human blood?
Never. Itâs not an addiction, not a craving; itâs more than that. I can
fill my stomach, I can exist with dead, cold blood from any animal you
can think of, but itâs not the same. Killing is what I miss; living
blood, drenching me until Iâm full of it, full of life. Canât do that
now? You think?
“Let me show you how I can, Dawn. What Iâve done to a dozen girls since
I got this fucking leash wrapped around my neck. I donât kill them -
not on purpose - and I make them happy, so itâs only fair. I take the
lonely ones, the ones who donât fit in. The plain ones, the plump ones,
the ones who donât match the pictures in your magazines. I flatter
them, lure them away. Iâm good at that and they donât want to believe
itâs a lie. I mean, look at me; Iâm a dream come true, right?
“So I take them somewhere quiet, kiss them until theyâre wet, till
theyâre open for me, ready and ripe. Then I slide the knife in their
hand and tell them what to do, where to cut. Make them beg me to drink.
If theyâre good, if theyâre brave, I might even fuck them afterwards.
“You know the funny part? Some come back for more.
“Want to join them, Dawn? Want to cut yourself, just a bit for me? Let
me taste?”
He shook his head, breaking the hold his eyes had created and Dawn
shuddered, dry-eyed and sick with fear and hatred.
“Well, Dawn?”
“I wouldnât have!”
He looked down and she followed his eyes. The knife was pressing
against her wrist and a thin line of red lay against the blade.
“Iâm not human, Dawn. Not a puppy dog either. Iâm ... not safe.” He
stood up. “Going to wait outside until the witches get back. Go to
bed.”
He made it to the door before she asked him.
“Spike? Those girls? You made that up, right? You wouldnât -”
He turned and looked at her. Taller than her sister, softer, too.
“Could have.”
“Oh, I know. I totally get that. I do. But ..?”
And he failed again. Couldnât do it to her. Not his little Dawn.
Couldnât lose her too. “Course not. Scared you though, didnât I?”
The lie tasted bitter but her smile of relief was sweet.
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