For disclaimer, see Part 1
Mail:LunarMyth@yahoo.com
Spike was leading Kiara onto the dance floor which, strangely enough, had been emptied. The
couple was so striking that people had stopped what they were doing in order to watch. Spike
wrapped one arm around her waist possessively and pulled her close to his body. Angel
noticed that she raised her hands to his chest in order to push him away, but then seemingly
thought better of it. As the first steamy beats of music were heard, he watched as her sleek bare
legs, *Too bare* he thought, entwined with Spike's, her skin brushing against the glossy black
leather of his pants. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and let her hips rock back and
forth with his.
It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
It's only when I
lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
Something beautiful is happening
inside for me
Something sensual, it's full of fire and mystery
I feel hypnotized, I feel paralized
I have found heaven
There's a thousand reasons
Why I shouldn't spend my time with you
For
every reason not to be here I can think of two
Keep me hanging on
Feeling nothing's wrong
Inside your heaven
Kiara raised her arms over her head as she swayed to the music, but Spike gripped her
hips possessively close to him. Angel wanted to rip his head off. They gyrated slowly in sync,
their bodies molding perfectly together in the sensuous dance. As Angel watched, another
picture began to superimpose itself upon reality.
Angelus was lying awake in bed. Kiara slept half on top of him, her arm and leg strewn
carelessly over his body, her head using his chest as a pillow. He looked down at her and
smoothed back her hair. As he did so he noticed the light indication of two small puncture
wounds on her neck. He ran his finger over the marks and felt a slight tingling. He knew he had
two similar marks on his own neck. They would be gone in a matter of moments. She was so
serene when she was sleeping. His undead heart filled with an emotion he could not identify. It
ripped at him uncontrollably and made him sick. Yet he could not help himself from trailing the
back of his hand over her soft cheek. Without a thought he whispered brokenly, "My Angel."
The vision passed and he saw Spike rub his hand down Kiara's back and over her firm
ass, to the back of her thigh. He lifted her toned leg over his hip, following it with a
particularly carnal roll of his pelvis. Her eyes flew open in shock and Spike grinned down at
her lecherously. Angel heard the female titters and the male moans of admiration surround him.
It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
It's only when I
lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
I can feel the emptiness inside
me fade and disappear
There's a feeling of contentment now that you are here
I feel satisfied
I
belong inside
Your velvet heaven
The room faded away and he was back in her bed. The way she made him feel
infuriated him. He lov...no! He was merely obsessed with her. He now realized she was just a
distraction. She'd taken up too much of his time. *Yes. It's time to move on. I don't need her.
Never did.*
He carefully extracted himself from her grasp. He walked to her armoire and opened
the door, flinching as it squeaked. For once he was happy that she was such a sound sleeper.
He knelt down in front of the large wooden closet and rummaged around a bit in the box of his
things at the bottom. He smiled grimly when he found what he wanted and quietly closed the
heavy doors.
He moved to her window and carefully opened the curtains. He could tell that it would
be dawn soon. Without any hesitation he lifted her small form in his arms and strode out of the
room. He carried her down the large main staircase of her palatial home and out onto the
second story balcony terrace. It was a large area, about fifty feet by sixty feet. His footsteps
rang out over the smooth marble tiles and Kiara moaned in her sleep. Taking heed, he gently set
her down in the far right corner of the terrace, letting her lean against the railings.
He stepped back and surveyed his surroundings. The fading moonlight played over the
lake's mirror-like surface. As he moved, the slight clinking around his neck brought him out of
his reverie. He reached up and removed the heavy weight of the chains from his shoulders. He
leaned down and closed one shackle around her delicate wrist, then carefully threaded the
chains through the railings, using up the slack so that it was a tight fit to close the other shackle
around her free hand. In fact, just as he was snapping it shut, her eyelids fluttered open and she
looked up at him.
Though Kiara had been deeply asleep only a moment ago, it took her less than a second
to grasp what he meant to do to her. Even with that knowledge she felt the overwhelming
compulsion to struggle against her bindings, but to no avail. He'd trapped her good.
Her silver eyes glistened with knowledge and betrayal as she stared up at him. Under
the heat of her gaze, Angelus was forced to turn away. He wanted nothing more than to set her
free and fall to his knees to beg her forgiveness. Well, almost nothing more. Mostly, he wanted
to stop feeling so damned weak and foppish. He wasn't the miserable little wretch he'd been
acting like recently. No, he was Angelus. To be feared, hated, reviled, and worshipped. Not
to be whipped by some scrawny waste of a good vampire.
He once again gazed out over the peaceful lake, nestled in the lush green hills and
deeply wooded forest. Hopefully her last sight would be worthwhile. He didn't want to look
back down at her, to see the acceptance of his treachery, the unconditional love she had for him.
He wanted to see contempt and hate.
Angel stumbled backwards into the shadows. He couldn't stop the memories from
invading his mind. He couldn't tell where one time started and the other stopped.
Did I need to sell my soul
For pleasure like this
Did I have to lose control
To treasure your
kiss
Did I need to place my heart
In the palm of your hand
Before I could even start
To
understand
It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
It's
only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
Kiara curled her hands in the collar of Spike's red silk shirt and pulled him closer to
her, her lips hovering seductively beneath his.
Angelus flinched as he heard her soft voice. "You'd better go now. It will be sunrise in
a few minutes."
Angel pushed through the crowd in his haste to get away. The loud din of thoughts raged
in his head.
He turned slowly and looked down at her. She was soft and pliant, her legs curled
under her like a little girl's. There were no clothes on her petite body to hide her from the sun's
harsh glare.
He shook his head in disbelief. Even now she was concerned with his well-being.
With a throaty laugh, Kiara once again lifted her arms over her head, her body swaying
gracefully to the sexual beat.
He ran from her. Ran from her love. Ran from her smiles, her laughter, her tears. He
had no choice.
To stay would be to lose himself in her.
Spike couldn't contain his own amused laugh as he lowered her in a dip, her leg still
locked around him. She arched her back as she undulated against him, her fingers scraping the
floor. Spike looked down at her beautiful body and lost himself.
Angel clawed his way out of the side door, gasping for breath in the cool night air. His
head was throbbing. As he threw one last glance over his shoulder, he saw Spike lift Kiara in
his arms and twirl her around laughingly. It was the last straw.
Angelus roared to life within him as the cacophony inside of him culminated into an
explosion of white light inside of his brain. Angel screamed in pain and slumped to the ground.
When he opened his eyes all he could see was darkness. He stood waveringly and
propped himself up against the dull brick wall. He ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.
As he controlled himself he looked down and straightened his clothes disgustedly. With a
determined air he walked back into the club. *It's so good to be back* Angelus thought.
Kiara knew the moment the fury had freed Angelus of his constraints. The link between
them had not been diminished at all on her part. It hurt her to drive Angel to such lengths and
pain, but it was the way things had to be. She quietly rested her head on Spike's shoulder as a
slow, temperate song began. *Time to implement Phase Two* she thought.
Angelus disregarded the shocked looks from the patrons his *better* half had crashed
through so foolishly only moments earlier. He stretched, honing in on the center of his desires
instantly. Through the crowd he saw her leaning against Spike. She hadn't changed, though she
wouldn't have, would she? Her beauty was still a beacon to him, as was every primal instinct
in him that she so skillfully played. With a low snarl he reigned in his desire to shred Spike at
her feet. He made sure he looked like a presentable "Angel" and made his way to the couple
still entwined on the dance floor. As Angelus placed his hand on Spike's shoulder, he
squelched the urge to crush the bone beneath his hands.
"I was wondering if you and Xander and I could have a talk after we leave tonight," he
said, his voice low and even. He made sure not to look at Kiara, certain that she'd know the
difference immediately. He almost smiled as he thought of her. He'd thought her weak, and yet
here she was dancing with his most rebellious Childe. It made him want to laugh. He wasn't
sorry for torturing her, not really. The fact that she survived, however, proved that she was a
perfect mate for him. They would do well together. They would reign together.
Spike looked up at him sardonically. "Awww, peaches, I didn't know you cared," he
drawled.
Angelus fought yet another urge to plant his fist through the cocky vampire's face. He
smirked good-naturedly. "I was just hoping we could talk. I mean, we all seem to be having
women troubles. I thought it could be a good bonding experience." Angelus wanted to get
Spike back on his side. Xander was just the tortured glue that would bind them together again.
But when he saw Spike's incredulous look, he amended his statement. "Look, we're both on the
same team here. I hear you're an official member of the Scooby Gang." He smiled very
"Angelic-ally". "I figure we might as well try to get along for as long as we can."
Spike regarded him momentarily, then nodded. "Yeah, *mate*. I'll go get the Boy
Wonder. We may as well drown in our cumulative miseries."
As Spike walked off, Angelus hazarded a glance at Kiara. She was watching him, her
silver eyes like pools of moonlight. He remembered the last look he'd seen in them, as Angelus,
and a jolt of pain ran through him. He disregarded it. "Take Buffy home, won't you? Make
sure she gets in safe," he tried to sound concerned. In truth, all he was concerned with was
feeling this woman's arms around him once again.
Kiara watched him with a hint of amusement. He was trying so hard to deceive her.
She almost laughed aloud as she read his every thought. She knew he wanted her. Yet at the
same time she could detect his obsession with Buffy and the gang. He hoped to use Xander as
bait. Kiara bit back a smile. She knew Spike, in all his soul-less-ness, would not allow
Angelus to hurt the kids. Somewhere along the line, Spike had come to enjoy them too much.
The irony of it all was too much for her. She smiled. "I will. I'd never let harm come to the
woman you love."
Angelus' eyes flashed darkly. *I'd never let harm come to the woman you love.* It was
true. She wouldn't. She hadn't. She was here, afterall, wasn't she? Quickly he snapped his
mind back to the conversation, ignoring the consequential confession of his "heart". "Thank
you," he murmured. "I'll be home later. Don't wait up," he quipped and turned to walk to the
spot where Xander and Spike were conversing bemusedly.
Kiara wrapped her arms around herself and looked out through the sea of faces for
Buffy. She spotted her a ways off, dancing slowly with that boyfriend of hers. She could tell
her heart wasn't in it. She gauged the two of them, and knew that there would be no hard
feelings when they broke up. Buffy belonged with Angel. It was so glaringly obvious that it
almost made Kiara sick. Almost as obvious as that new "boy" toy. But she knew what she had
to do. Well, she didn't really know. Whistler had only told her part of the plan or prophecy or
whatever in the Hell it was. She really hoped she found out the next step before Angelus got
into too much trouble.
It was an hour later when the gang split up to leave. Cordelia, Willow, Oz and Aidan
went back to Cordy's place while Buffy and Kiara walked to Angel's apartment. The silence
between them was filled with tension, and Kiara was glad she would have to retire as soon as
they made it home.
* * *
The three men had been drinking for almost three hours. The bartender had tried an hour
earlier to limit them, but one look at Spike's demonic features had made him think twice. They
now had free reign over the establishment.
"I schwear, the whole lots of them are jush no good...no good....temptreshess," Xander
said vehemenently.
Spike nodded glumly into his third bottle of tequila. He'd started on shots, but halfway
through the first bottle he'd come to his senses. "Yeah, mate. Tha' Cordy is somethin' else. All
cold and hard on the outside. But I bet she's all warm an' wet on the inside, eh?" he sniggered.
Xander flung his arm out angrily, catching Spike on the cheek. "Don' you talk abou' my
Cordy like that you....you....daylight impaired freak. Cordy....Cordy....Cordy...." he mumbled
into his beer.
Spike wrapped his arm around Xander's shoulders and rests his head on him. "I'm
sorry, ducks," he murmured sadly. "Cor, but my lass' a goddess. Ne'er seen such beauty...and
the way she lights up the room... I tell ya, I'd rather dance with her than fight with the Slayer."
"I think I'm gonna hurl...."
Angelus watched the two drunks, not contemplating the fact that he, too, was sotted.
"You two are pathetic."
Spike opened one eye and glared at him. "Oh and you're not, you great poof? All soul
havin' and lovey eyed at the Slayer. Oh sure, she's a hot little number, if you're interested in the
dominatin' type. And her, galavantin' around with that little rich boy, flauntin' her wares in yer
face. No, Angel ole boy, don't tell me you're not just as pathetic as the lot o' us."
Angelus glared right back at him.
"S'all *their* faults. Didn't haff ta be so beautiful. No. And Willow for Christ's sakes!
When did she get so...so...*fetching*? And Cordelia....always beyond my reach. How'd I get
her in the firsss place? I don't remember. And Buffy...oh Buffy....." Xander moaned.
Angelus reached across the table and pulled Xander over the dirty, wooden surface.
"Don't you talk about Buffy like that! Like she's some object for your elusive wet dreams!" He
thrust the boy away from him and went back to his brooding.
"Woo hoo....looks like our boy is a bit touchy about his Slayer. Mate, lemme give ya
some advice. I wouldn't ever fall for a Slayer. They're just gourmet cuisine. The only real
opponents we 'ave."
"I'll decide who suits my tastes, Blondie."
"And who would, but the All Mighty Buffster?" Xander asked. "Nah. She's shpeshul.
Not another one like her. S'why I love her. An' I love Cordy cause she's really not sho bad
down deep," he blushed when Spike snickered. "An' Will cause she alwaysh knows me best."
Spike shook his head. "You really do got it bad, Boy. Good thing you didn't dance with
my girl."
"She's not *your* girl!," Angelus hollered.
"How would you know, Pansy? You can't even keep your own woman, don't start
analyzin' mine!"
"What about Dru?" Angelus asked smoothly.
Spike's head dropped to the table and his shoulders began shaking. "Dru....Dru," he
wailed. "My Princess. My Black Goddess. Why hast thou forsaken me????" he cried.
Angelus looked at him disgustedly. "Didn't think you were the maudlin type, Spike."
Spike's gaze shot daggers at him. "Oh shut up you bloody wanker. What do you know
of love? You think you can use your morals to let Buffy be. But ye can't. And you should
realize it. It's ne'er gonna go 'way. She'll be in you till you die and you'll ne'er escape the fire
she burns inside o' ya." He took another swig of tequila. "If ya knew anythin' 'bout love, you'd
know that. You'd know you'll ne'er get 'er outta yer blood."
Spike and Xander leaned against each other, crying in their misery. Angelus sat quietly,
toying with his empty bottle of vodka. *....you'll never get her out of your blood.....* he thought.
*Kiara.* He exhaled the unnecessary air loudly and stood up. There were other things he
needed to accomplish tonight, other than gallivanting with these two idiots. He grabbed two
unopened bottles of tequila and smashed them against his company's heads. Xander passed out
immediately, but Spike was only stunned. However, he was so drunk that he was unable to
resist when Angelus hauled him up and dragged him out of the bar.
* * *
Willow and Oz walked arm in arm down the street. The moon was high and there was a
cool breeze blowing about. Willow smiled contentedly as she rested her head on Oz's
shoulder.
"Cold?" he asked.
"Nope. Just happy."
"Me too. I love being with you."
Willow's smile grew as that little giddy feeling expanded in her heart - like it always
did when Oz complimented her. "What did I ever do to be lucky enough to find you?"
"You didn't have to do anything," he said. "You were perfect just the way you were. I
saw you and I just *wanted* to know you."
"Well now you know me. And I know you. And...we know each other. It's kinda like
that song-"
Oz turned and silenced her with a kiss. She melted into him and wrapped her arms
around his neck. "You were saying?" he asked quietly.
"I have no idea," she smiled brightly.
Oz nodded seriously. "Mmmm. Well, you'll always be my 'Black Magic Woman'."
Willow giggled, then tensed. "Did you hear that?" She drew away from him and
listened.
Oz perked up, his heightened senses trying to find what made Willow so nervous.
Suddenly he heard a soft mewling.
Willow spun around. "There! Hear it? It...it's like a...a kitten. It sounds hurt." A small
frown marred her smooth brow and Oz's heart warmed in view of her compassion. He watched
as she walked towards a small alley on the side of the building they were standing in front of.
"You go look that way," she pointed to the other side of the building.
"Just be careful," he called to her as he walked in the opposite direction.
Willow walked around the dumpster, moving boxes out of her way slowly with the toe
of her shoe. If the poor thing was in one of them, she didn't want to hurt it more. "Here Kitty,
Kitty," she called out. She smiled as the mewling sound got louder. Light from the street lamp
let her see the small, shivering bundle beneath a sheet of newspaper. "Oh there you are," she
cooed.
A shadow passed over her and blocked out the light. "Oz, I found it," she said turning.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh," she laughed slightly. "I thought you were Oz. We heard a
hurt kitten so we came to investigate." She turned back to the cat and picked it up. It was so
small and malnourished that it fit in one palm.
When she turned back around, he was right in front of her. "Oh, ummm," she stuttered
nervously. "Are..are, you ummm, are you looking for...for Buffy? I..I think she'd...she'd be back
at the...the apartment by now."
His tall form loomed in front of her and he growled softly. Willow barely had time to
squeak before his hand gripped her neck tightly and flung her back toward the brick wall. As
she hit the building, her head cracked against the hard stone and she slumped unconsciously to
the ground, landing in a pile of refuse. He picked up the small wounded kitten in his large hand
and smiled grimly. Taking its head between his thumb and index finger, he broke it's small
neck. Then he dropped it next to her on the wet, sticky ground.
Oz was fed up with looking for the kitten. He knew Willow would be discontent if they
didn't find the poor thing, but he hadn't heard anything else in the past few minutes. As he turned
to meet her on the other side, he heard a small crash. Without thinking, he ran to the other side
of the building. Willow was nowhere to be seen. However, he saw a tall man turn and run in
the opposite direction, the hem of his black trench flying out behind him. Sensing something
was wrong, he began to run after him, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the strange
looking bundle heaped on the ground next to the dumpster. A small, strangled sound formed in
his throat. He knelt down on the cold, slimy surface and reached out with a trembling hand. He
brushed back the limp red strands and saw Willow's face, pale and emotionless. As he drew
his hand away he saw that his fingers were covered with blood. Oz was torn between running
after the man who had so obviously done this to her and carrying her to the nearest hospital. He
looked down at his love and was unaware of the tears coursing down his cheeks. He lifted his
head and howled deeply and full of his pain. He gathered Willow in his arms and ran towards
Cordy's apartment and his van. He could smell her blood as it seeped from her wound.
He wanted to rip the guy's throat out. And when he found him, he would. Oz had a
pretty good idea of who it had been.
Next