Blood.  Such a sweet word to Drusilla's ears as she drained her latest victim. It had been days since she had fed, but the servants of the Devlin household had finally become so afraid of her, they left her alone in her room without anyone watching.  If they hadn't decided to let her go un supervised,
she probably would have made a meal of one of them, regardless of what Angelus had told her.  She had been so hungry, her entire body had been aching with unfulfilled lust for blood.

But now she was free.  As free as the wind blowing through the trees, telling of a coming storm.  The trees themselves painted beautiful silhouettes across the night sky, reaching out to her, calling her.  Her heightened vampire senses picked up a faint scream in the distance.  She envied the vampire that
had slayed this one.  Fear made the blood so much richer.

She thought about the family that had taken her in, the ones who weren't servants.  Their blood wasn't that of one who serves and takes orders. The older man, the master of the household, his blood flowed strongly through his veins; thought the blood itself was weak.  The woman, so controlling and nagging reminded her a bit of the way Darla used to treat her, like she was some kind of threat.  Of course, Angelus always assured his sire that Drusilla wasn't a problem at all, as she was so weak and stupid.  Still, her master knew enough to keep the two of them away from each other.

And then there were the two younger men.  Brothers, they were.  But never again.  The elder, she didn't like.  He wanted to hurt her.  His heart stunk of hatred for her kind.  But she would make sure he didn't live for long. Drusilla smiled at the thought of the younger one. He was kind to her, he was. Angelus was her sire and master, but he was her William, her pet.  He made her feel all pretty and safe.  She liked that.  It was something she hadn't felt since...

Looking around for the first time at her surroundings, as she could only think of blood after first getting out of that dreadful place, she wondered what kinds of flowers grew here.  Miss Edith had always loved flowers.
 

Edith's nimble fingers plucked nervously at the weeds in her garden.  Ever since the man she only knew as Angelus had told her about her ‘destiny', she had been on edge.  It wasn't that she actually believed him, the man should be dragged straight to a mad house, but there was something about the
seriousness in his tone that sent shivers running up her spine.  Vampires, demons, walking the earth, feeding of people?  Her, Edith Hargrave, the only one who could stop them?

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.  She loved her garden, she really did.  It was the pride of the village, for her flowers seemed to grow without effort, lasting longer than any around. It seemed that all Edith had to do was put them in the ground, and they
would grow, easily and quickly.

As she reached for another weed, a sharp pain tore at her head. Putting a hand to her temple, Edith closed her eyes.  She was having another vision.  A night sky flashed before her, though it was in the middle of theafternoon. Floating around were the faces of her family and friends, their mouths open in screams.  Then the vision changed, and everything was blood red.  A head appeared to her, it was fuzzy, so she couldn't make out who it was. The head suddenly snapped up, as if pushed, revealing a long, slender neck with two punctures in it.  Blood flowed from the wounds, engulfing everything around her.  She screamed.

And then it was dark again.  Edith opened her eyes to see the familiar surroundings of her garden.  She was clutching the plant tightly in her hand, so tightly her fingernails had begun to draw blood.

"Edith!"  Came a sharp female voice.

She behind her to the small cottage she called home.

"Yes, mummy?"

The door opened to reveal a slender, dark haired woman, much like Edith herself.  She would have been beautiful if not for the cold harshness in her eyes.  Catherine Hargrave frowned at her daughter.

"Edith, you screamed so loud the entire village probably heard it.  Do you want everyone to know you're a devil's child?"

Edith didn't say anything, just looked at the ground and shook her head.

"I don't know why your uncle doesn't lock you up.  That's why you can't get a husband, Edith, because you're Satan's spawn.  You know only God can see the future."

"Yes, mum," Edith whispered.  "I know.  I'm sorry."

"Well get into the house and pray to the good Lord for forgiveness. Right now!"  Catherine made sweeping motions towards the door.

Silently, Edith got up, and bringing the plant she still held tightly with her, she walked inside the house, and to her room.

Once inside the room she shared with her sister, Anne, she looked at the plant she clutched.  It was a dead daisy.
 

Victoria looked critically at her new Watcher, sitting in the chair across from her in the small room.

"So... how did you get--" she motioned to his cloak which contained the  severed eyes of her former Watcher, Gareth.

Philip Devlin looked uneasy.  "Actually it was delivered to me at my  house by  a woman in a cloak, so I couldn't see her face.  I didn't know what it  meant, but my father, who's a Watcher too, explained."

"Your father's a Watcher?"  Victoria was surprised.  "Then why are you assigned to me, not your father?  I'm sure he has more experience and knowledge about being a Watcher."

Philip raised his head defensively.  "I know just as much about demons  as my father does.  Besides, it'd be easier for me to work with you."

"How so?"

"Well, um, see..."  He grinned sheepishly.  "My mother wants me to get married anyway, and it would be easier for us to work together..."

Her eyes widened.  "Are you asking me to marry you?!?"

As he nodded, her mind tried to keep up.  A few days ago this man who was just someone to flirt with, was now her Watcher, and potential husband!  Oh sure, he was attractive, but marriage...

"But I thought Watchers aren't supposed to get attached to their Slayers and maintain indifferent to the Slayer's feelings, doing what needs to be done, " she protested weakly, already knowing his answer.

"I don't think anyone can help not getting attached to you, Victoria. Besides, what other way is there?"

Her thoughts trailed off to Gareth.  Gareth had been a father to her,  the only  father figure she'd ever had as her own, and died soon after she was born.  He was her only family for most of the time after she'd become the Slayer. Even now she couldn't imagine life without him.  Would Philip protect her,
like Gareth had?  Would he be there in times of need?  Would he love her?

She nodded.  "I accept your proposal, then."
 

Billy gasped for air as he sat straight up in his bed.  Good Lord, he  thought. That was... intense.  It wasn't the first time he'd dreamt about her, nor, he knew, would it be the last.  He didn't know what it was about Drusilla Morgan, but there was something about her... Still reeling from the intensity of
the dream and feeling a bit restless, he got out of bed and walked towards the window of his room.

At first he thought he was still dreaming.  A white figure danced against the black shadows of night, her faint laughter barely audible.  Drusilla. Just the thought of her made his heart race.  Without thinking, he quickly put on his clothes and raced outside, careful not to wake anyone up.

The air was cool, that night, and a light rain had begun to fall. Billy looked around for Drusilla.  All he saw was the well cared for lawn of the estate and the entrance to the nearby forest off to the side, the trees looking tall and forbidding in the mist.

"Drusilla?" he called out, making his way towards the forest.

His feet, as if they had a mind of their own instantly carried him to a small clearing he and Philip had once called their own when they were children.  The trees that had once seemed so tall when he was young, now looked old and twisted in this light.  His eyes scanning the scene, he saw the old tree house he and Philip had built when they were younger.  His mother had chastised them for getting all dirty with work, saying it wasn't of their status, but their father had allowed the boys, saying it'd be good for them.  The tree house was now worn with various weather conditions and much use.  It was small, able to fit only two or three people, but back when Philip and Billy were young, a castle couldn't have been more grand.

"Miss Edith," he heard a soft whisper.  "We have a visitor."

Looking around for the source of the voice, knowing the lovely creature it belonged to, Billy's heart began to race.  Urgently scanning the scene, he saw no one.  Turning around to leave, he bumped right into the woman that had been haunting his dreams both day and night.

Though startled, his first instinct was that of concern.  "Drusilla! What are you doing here?  It's raining, and you're weak.  It's dangerous to be out at this time of--"

Drusilla cut him off, touching a slender finger to his lips.  "Shhh. I've never felt better."

How strange, just a touch from her seemed to calm him.  And her eyes... he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her.  It was as if he were in a trance.  All he could focus on were her eyes.  They were the color of the ocean, of the sky.  So large, and innocent.  So trusting.  Shaking his head
slightly, he looked down, trying to break out of his reverie.

What he saw were the crimson stains on her dress.

"My God, are you hurt?"  He reached out to examine the stains.

Dru shook her head, confused.  "No, why would I be?  Daddy's not here, is he? Have I been bad?"  Her face was full of worry.  Almost fear.

Looking up at her, Billy suddenly grew bold and put his hand on her cheek, wet with rain, his thumb just barely touching her bottom lip.  "No. Never," he whispered.

She smiled impishly, taking his other hand holding it in hers. "Dance?"

Though confused, Billy decided to humor her.  Moving away, he grasped her hand in his, lifting his arm up for her to twirl under.  She giggled a bit, but then, when he tried to continue to dance with her in the normal fashion, she stopped him.

"No."  She took his hands and placed them on her waist, putting her hands around his neck.  "I've seen people dance like this," she explained. "I've always wanted to try it, but Daddy thinks it's stupid."  Her voice took on a sad tone.  "He thinks everything I say is stupid.  You don't, do you?"
He pulled her closer to him in answer as they swayed to music only she could hear.

All Billy could think about was the way she felt in his arms.  She was so cold, yet somehow radiating some inner heat.  Like an ice sculpture boiling inside with spicy warmth.  Her wet dress clung to her form, outlining her figure, yet leaving so much to imagine.  Her arms, so slender and delicate, yet so strong at the same time, were wound about his neck, sending shivers down his spine.  Lord, she was beautiful.

Drusilla, for her part, was just as hypnotized as he.  This man was so different from Angelus.  He listened to her, seemed to care for her. Angelus always beat her if she ever told him about a vision, and even though occasionally he'd spoil his princess, most of the time he treated her like a toy.  But perhaps the greatest difference between this Billy Devlin and Angelus was what they seemed to stand for.  Angelus was dark.  He was her angel of the night, her master, her creator.  But he was also her jailer.  He reminded her that she was a Devil child, a vampire, a creature of the night.
Billy was... different somehow.  He reminded her of day, of happiness, of the life she'd never been able to have, and would never get the chance to have again.  He treated her like a princess.

Billy examined Drusilla's seemingly flawless face, starting from the top, working his way down, he studied each and every tiny detail, trying to memorize her every little feature.  Her hair, matted down in the rain, was dark as night itself.  Her skin was like a petal of a lily, pale, smooth, and soft.  Her eyes, so serene and hypnotizing.  Her lips...

He focused on her mouth.  She was humming a little tune he didn't recognize, her lips curved into a sweet smile.  God, he wanted to kiss her.  Just the thought of touching those full, inviting lips made his blood burn and his heart race.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he told Drusilla rather breathlessly.

"Do you care?"  Her innocent tone was both seductive and sweet.

He shook his head.  "No."  He leaned down.

"Mr. Billy Devlin, get back into the house this instant!  It's pouring outside!"

Billy's head snapped up as he jumped away from Drusilla.  He recognized the insistent voice as that of Laura, one of the servants.  Laura had work at the Devlin household for longer than he could remember and was a part time nurse to he and Philip when they were younger.  Obviously she'd noticed him gone, and was worried.  He hoped she hadn't woken up everyone else in the house.

Drusilla, startled by the voice, had also jumped back several feet, her eyes wide.  She looked at Billy and calmed down a bit as he took her hand and led her back towards the house.