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Part Thirty-Two, Sacrifices to St. Vigeous
Lizzy quietly crept to the top of the stairs and looked out carefully into the dimly torchlit room. Despite the torches, the room seemed unnaturally and oppressively dark. Its shadows were long and deep. She crouched at the entrance. Darcy stood just behind her and leaned over her to see into the room as well. He put his hand on her shoulder to steady himself. For a brief second she closed her eyes and savored the feel of him so close. She felt strength and calm flow through her. Then she opened her eyes again. They adjusted to the darkness and she saw Lydia.
As a shiver of fear passed through Lizzy, Georgiana stirred.
Darcy felt Lizzy's body tense beneath his hand. He forced himself to remain calm and observant. He looked around the room, taking in their surroundings and the creatures awaiting them. There appeared to be about twenty vampires in the room. In sharp contrast to the fiends outside the lodge, these vampires seemed very self-possessed and calm, except perhaps for Wickham. Lady Catherine stood by the only uncovered window, peering out into the night.
The large altar in the center of the room was separated into three different sections. On each section lay a girl. Lydia Bennet lay to the left, Georgiana in the middle, Caroline Bingley to the right. Each girl was chained down. Caroline was gagged. Georgiana appeared to be unconscious. Most of the windows in the room were covered with boards, nailed tightly to the walls. An inverted cross hung on the wall above the center of the altar. It was covered by a heavy-looking black cloth.
The Master stood in front of the altar, looking down at Georgiana. He spoke, "Though it is early, we should begin." He turned and looked at the doorway. It was obvious that he could see them there. He said, "Good evening, my dear," with a cold smile. Then he ordered two vampires, "See to the Slayer. Do not let her interrupt."
Lizzy stood and walked through the doorway, into the room, Darcy at her side. The two vampires approached the Slayer and the Watcher warily, swords drawn. Lizzy and Darcy exchanged a glance and drew their own swords. The battle was joined. Lady Catherine began to chant.
The others moved in behind Lizzy and Darcy. As The Master turned and leaned over Georgiana, Fitzwilliam let a bolt fly towards his heart. Angelus easily caught the bolt in mid-flight, a mocking smile on his face. The Colonel nodded to Giles. Giles threw a small container of salvaged powder into the middle of the floor. Bingley grabbed a torch from the wall and tossed it to the center of the powder. The explosion knocked everyone from their feet and cracked both the floor and the ceiling. The Master, who was closest to the explosion, was blown several feet to his left. Fire now stood between him and Georgiana. He looked to his left, at Lydia.
Lizzy pulled a stake from the pouch on her leg and dispatched the vampire lying next to her. She moved to aid Darcy.
Wickham crawled back up so that he stood over Lydia looking at her covetously. He was still smarting from the rebukes that Darla had given him when she discovered the identity of the girl he'd brought into their lair at Brighton.
Wickham was most displeased. He had thought it all great sport. He'd simply thought to thumb his nose at the Slayer by killing her sister. Then as he'd sat with Lydia, enthralling her to his whim, his plans had changed. He'd seduced her easily. It was her passion that had given him other ideas. He thought she might make him a companion nearly as pleasant as the one Spike had found! When Darla walked in and found them there in the bed, he asked her if he might keep the Slayer's sister for his own. She'd knocked him to the floor, screaming at his foolishness and beating him again and again. Then she'd called for her carriage immediately, determined that they would bring Lydia to The Master. He'd only had the chance to take the smallest of drinks from Lydia. Lydia's blood, blood filled with the strength and passion of the line of the Slayer, was like an elixir to Wickham. He'd not tasted its like since drinking from the Slayer herself on Good Friday. He licked his lips reverently as he remembered the taste.
Now, seeing her chained to the altar, he whined to The Master, "Please, can't I keep her? I want to drink from her and have her drink from me. She gave herself to me. She's supposed to be my fledgling, my companion." He ran a finger down Lydia's arm as he spoke. She flinched and looked up at him in mute terror.
Angelus glanced at Darla and saw her angrily nod approval. He grabbed Wickham by the neck and lifted him off the ground so that his feet dangled ridiculously. Angelus dispassionately said, "No one gave you permission to speak, idiot. There are more important things than a good time in bed… and this is one of them. It is your place to be OBEDIENT!" Then Angelus' face turned demonic and he smashed Wickham's head down into the altar next to Lydia, banging it there, repeatedly. The anger Angelus felt towards Spike and the betrayal he suspected that vampire of drove him now. Lydia screamed with each blow. Wickham was unconscious by the third.
Angelus continued until he heard The Master say, "Destroy him later, Angel. Right now, just get him out of my way." Angelus dropped Wickham on the floor next to the altar. He moved back to Darla's side and looked at her as if to ask what she had been thinking of when she'd made Wickham. She shrugged at his unspoken question and turned her attention back to The Master.
The Master walked up to Lydia and looked over to the witch. Lady Catherine began to chant. Lydia wailed pitifully as The Master bent over her. The torches flashed. Lizzy leapt up from her vantage point and cried out to The Master in hopes of deterring him from his intent.
The Master glanced at Lizzy through the flames in an unconcerned manner, pulled Lydia's throat to his lips, and drank deeply from her. She grew terribly pale and weak, unable even to move. She lay limp on the black stone of the altar. The Master threw back his head and roared. He savored the feel of the blood coursing through him. The strength of the Slayer began to grow within him. Lizzy blinked in surprise as she felt a flash of weakness come over her.
A vampire moved towards the Slayer. Fitzwilliam caught him with a bolt from his crossbow. Without hesitation, two other vampires grabbed shields and held them before their chests as they moved towards the humans.
The Master turned to the witch. She chanted, "Cleanse the key of light. Grant him the power of her blood, St. Vigeous. Este Scris! It is written! Take this lamb's blood and consecrate it. Grant him the power of her heart." The flames of the torches flared with a loud hiss. The Master lay his hands over Lydia's heart and howled. Then he lifted his hands and took the knife from the witch, raising it high above his head in both hands. It seemed to Lizzy that the world slowed in that instant as she struggled to comprehend what he was doing. Lydia turned her head. Her eyes met Lizzy's. The knife plunged down quickly, straight through Lydia, just below her heart. Her blood spilled across the altar. The Master turned to smile at the Slayer, his hands still wrapped about the bloody handle of the knife.
Lizzy gasped in agony as she felt the slice of the knife blade. Her sword fell to the floor at her feet. The force of the spell's power rendered her helpless. Her knees buckled and her vision blurred as she fell back. Darcy dropped his sword and caught her. She felt his hands on her arms and his body behind hers. Then he folded her into his embrace, frightened by her sudden weakness. It seemed to her that he was very far away. She looked up into his eyes as he gently caressed her cheek with one hand. His heart pounded loudly against her other cheek and closed her eyes, savoring his scent and the feel of his strong arms about her. She felt as though she could stay there forever. The room grew darker.
Bingley and Fitzwilliam took on the vampires who approached them to take advantage of the Slayer's weakness. They barely succeeded in holding them off. Fitzwilliam managed to knock the shield out of one vampire's hands with a bolt. Then he killed it. They continued to battle the other vampire. Other vampires moved towards them menacingly.
Giles drew his sword. He ran past the others and tore the black cloth from the cross over the altar. The vampires turned from the cross, even The Master drawing back from it. Then Giles began trying to find a way to free Georgiana and Caroline. To his right, Caroline cried out from behind her gag, begging him for help. Giles pulled at the chains without success. Suddenly, he noticed Caroline's expression change. He grabbed up his sword and turned to face Angelus.
Angelus tossed the cloth back up over the cross and said laughingly, "Good evening, old man." He brought his sword up in front of his face.
Giles attacked Angelus and said, "Go to Hell!"
The two circled each other, crossing blades furiously. Giles managed to stab Angelus in the leg. Angelus barely winced, preferring to maintain the expression of mockery he'd so long worn before Giles. Again, Giles scored a hit, cutting into Angelus' cheek. The smile fell away from the demon's face and he obviously became angry. He snarled at the old Watcher.
Then Angelus moved in with purpose. He was an exceptionally strong demon. He was also very skilled with the sword. He knocked the sword from Giles' hand, backhanded the old man, and pressed the blade to his chest as Giles scurried back away from him. All too soon, Giles found himself pressed against the wall. He looked up at Angelus. Suddenly, Giles smiled. He stood, still pressed to the wall by Angelus' sword and said, "I curse you, Angel. Your already piteous existence will continue for hundreds of years to come. You will never know lasting joy. If you know even one moment's true joy, your evil will take it from you. You WILL go to Hell and you will suffer."
Angelus snarled again and drove his sword through the old Watcher. Giles died with a smile on his face and a whisper of "Jenny," on his lips. He went to his death happily. Angelus stood over him with a look of fear and dissatisfaction on his face. Somehow, he knew that the old man's curse would come to pass.
Barely clinging to consciousness, Lizzy heard Darcy's prayer. He whispered hurriedly, "Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God: defend me from them that rise up against me. Deliver me from the workers of iniquity, and save me from bloody men. For, lo, they lie in wait for my soul: the mighty are gathered against me; not for my transgression, nor for my sin, O LORD." She recognized the words from Psalm 59, the Bible verse number inscribed on the back of her broach. She felt Darcy's lips tenderly touch her forehead as he murmured comfort to her. She clung to him, feeling him willing her his own strength. She whispered his name. Again, he kissed her forehead, then her cheek. Neither of them noticed the very faint glow of light coming from the broach over her heart. Lizzy only knew that she began to recover her strength a bit. Her hold on Darcy tightened.
Gradually, she sat up, then stood with Darcy's help. She and Darcy moved away from each other. She did not want to look and see her sister lying on the altar, but when she did so she felt the desperate strength of just retribution flow through her. She was certain that she only had until Lydia's blood ran out across the altar… once it was gone, so would her Slayer strength be gone. She turned to lean down and grab her sword, but Darcy had already picked it up. He handed it to her. She could see from the look in his eye that he had reached the same conclusion that she had. Together, they joined the fray, hoping to battle their way clear to The Master before it was too late.
Lizzy slew the vampire before her and found that she had a clear shot at The Master. She aimed carefully, let a stake fly hard, and stood staring in disbelief as it bounced off The Master's chest. He laughed at her, glorying in his new strength. Fearlessly, he walked through the flames and moved to stand over Georgiana.
Lizzy rushed forward, knocking some demons out of her way with well-placed punches and kicks, and slicing through others with her blade. Bingley beheaded a vampire as it moved to intercept the Slayer. Fitzwilliam shot another. The battle was fierce and horrific.
As Lizzy was almost upon The Master, Angelus leapt between them. He grinned at her lasciviously and mocked, "Hey, you may as well relax and enjoy yourself, Slayer. Want to play?" His words were designed to inflame her anger, echoing their encounter at Rosings when he'd taken advantage of her helplessness, pressing both unwanted kisses and caresses on her. Rage burned in her eyes.
She met his bloody blade with her own and reached over the swords with her left hand to punch him square in the face, hard. He reeled back from the blow and barely deflected her next thrust. She was glad to see the smile disappear from his handsome face. She hissed at him, "I'm not in restraints this time. You may notice a difference." She jabbed forward and cut Angelus' arm. She wondered at his other sword wounds.
He gasped slightly, but managed once again to defend himself. She pressed her advantage. She looked up and saw Darcy moving in towards them. He was attacked by a vampire and knocked to the ground, the vampire atop him. Lizzy barely deflected Angelus' next thrust as she attempted to move to help Darcy. Suddenly the vampire burst into a cloud of smoke which Darcy shook off. He looked at the scene before him and saw Giles' body laying next to the wall.
Darcy leapt forward and furiously swung his sword at Angelus.
Darla jumped on Lizzy from behind as she moved back towards Angelus. Lizzy's sword was knocked out of her grip. Lizzy threw her fist back and popped Darla viciously in the side of the head. Darla screamed in pain. Then she bit the back of Lizzy's neck. Lizzy ran backwards into the wall as hard as she could. The impact was so hard that it cracked the wall. Darla grunted in pain as she slid down. On her way down, Lizzy elbowed her in the gut.
Fitzwilliam tossed Lizzy a pistol. She turned around and shot at Darla as the vampiress moved to stand. The shot grazed her shoulder and made a hole in the wall where it had become cracked from the impact of the fighting. Darla fell to the ground and groaned, "Next time I meet a Slayer I'll be the one with the gun." Lizzy pulled the trigger again and cursed when nothing happened. She tossed the pistol aside in disgust. She pulled her last stake to finish off Darla, but was waylaid by another vampire. This vampire knocked the stake from her hand and backhanded her so that she fell away from Darla.
The burst of fear that Lizzy had felt when Darcy fell to the ground cut through the fog in Georgiana's brain. Through the darkness of the sleeping spell, Georgiana saw the battle around her. She saw herself lying on an altar and saw The Master leaning over her, and then felt him begin to drink from her neck. She saw it all clearly.
Lady Catherine chanted, "Cleanse the key of light. Grant him the power of her blood, St. Vigeous. Este Scris! It is written! Take this lamb's blood and consecrate it. Grant him the power of her heart." The Master held the knife in one hand.
Suddenly the darkness swirled away from Georgiana, she awoke, and she pushed The Master back with the power in her mind. The Master growled as she forced him away. Her chains unlocked and fell to the altar. The Master pushed against her power as she struggled to get up.
Darcy's sword clanged loudly against Angelus'. The demon and the Watcher circled each other warily. Darcy looked at Angelus with fierce loathing, but was determined not to let his anger cloud his judgment. Angelus grinned at him and went on the attack. As he lunged at Darcy with his sword, Angelus asked, "Why do you look at me like that, Watcher? Is it because of what I just did to the old man? Or, did the Slayer tell you how excited she was when I kissed her?" He was certain Darcy was too much of a gentleman to have done more than desire the Slayer. Seeing Darcy's reaction to his second statement, Angelus continued in an infuriating and taunting tone, "She tried to deny it, but she has an extremely passionate nature. Have you ever tasted such passion before? Delicious! And that beautiful body… even better to the touch! Wouldn't you agree?" Angelus laughed at Darcy.
Darcy possessed skill with the sword nearly equal to that of the Slayer. He only lacked her incredible strength. Neither demons nor evil creatures are always wise in the tactics they choose to employ against an opponent. In this case, Angelus was in error. He possessed far greater strength than the Watcher. If he were to press that advantage instead of inciting the adrenaline flow in his opponent, Angelus would have been the victor. As it stood, Darcy was able to hold him off and distract him from the Slayer--which was Darcy's purpose, one his rational mind clung to ferociously as he resisted Angelus' vicious attacks.
Lizzy saw Georgiana struggling against The Master. She looked around at all that was happening. She certainly trusted Darcy in a sword fight, but not if he experienced the same weakness that had come over her when The Master had stabbed Lydia. She moved towards The Master and Georgiana.
As she passed by Lydia, she saw how blue her lips had become. She grabbed her wrist and felt the thready, fading pulse there. Through tears she looked into Lydia's eyes. She could see the spark of life that had once burned so brightly fading to nothingness. She closed Lydia's eyes gently and murmured a quick prayer for her. She blinked away her tears.
Then she turned and leapt at The Master. He laughed at her growing weakness and struck at her, knocking her down beside the altar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wickham come to consciousness, looking at Lydia blearily. He stared at the blood trickling down her neck. The Master turned back to Georgiana. Frightened, she scrambled back from him.
Wickham looked at Lizzy and then back at the blood on Lydia's throat. Suddenly Lizzy knew her way free of the spell. She prayed for forgiveness for what she was about to do and whispered, "Why don't you drink? She gave herself to you. She's supposed to be your fledgling, your companion." He shook his head and whimpered, obviously wishing to do what she said, but frightened. Lizzy gasped mockingly, "You certainly are obedient."
Enraged, Wickham hissed at her and tore at Lydia's throat with his fangs. He stared into Lizzy's eyes as he cut his wrist, putting it to Lydia's lips rebelliously. His look was one of victory. Lizzy's eyes reflected that sentiment, despite her grief and her guilt. Like Darcy had said, the wording in the prophecies was cryptic. 'The blood of the Slayer's heart will strengthen The Master and she will become undead.' In this spell, Lydia was the Slayer's heart. Now Lydia would become undead. Indeed, it was happening as written.
Both Lady Catherine and The Master shrieked, "NO!!!" as Wickham gave Lydia his blood. As Lydia became undead, Lizzy felt her strength returning. Lydia was no longer the same as she had been, she was neither alive nor dead. Her heart became that of a demon.
Lizzy stood and faced The Master. Strength flowed through her.
Lady Catherine began to chant a new and different spell, "Te implore, Vigeous! Use the darkness of hate against them. The seeds of discord shall spring forth. Take the feelings in their hearts and turn them into our greatest weapon. Each will kill the other." As Lady Catherine continuing weaving her curse, Angelus backed away from Darcy and watched him with interest. Darcy's eyes clouded over. He raised his sword high behind Lizzy's head. His entire body trembled as he struggled against the spell.
In both Elizabeth's and Darcy's minds, Lady Catherine urged them to violence towards one another. Each of them heard her voice in their head, saying, "Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you what I bid you to do. To resist is to feel the greatest torment."
Elizabeth looked at the witch with astonishment. She felt the spell begin to give her physical pain. She stood there, shaking from the pain and staring at the witch. Darcy did the same.
Lady Catherine's tone grew more angry as she wove her spell. "I am not to be trifled with. However insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My power has ever been celebrated, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. Hear the murder in your heart. Listen to the discord within you. Allow my instruction to contradict any light within. Kill each other. Then the pain will end."
Elizabeth protested, "You may weave incantations which I shall not choose to follow." Darcy stood still, trapped by the power of his aunt's voice, yet unable to obey her urgings.
Lady Catherine shrieked, "This is not to be borne! Slayer, I insist on being satisfied. Do my bidding!" The pain grew in intensity. "Though your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family, he knows he should not dally with such as you." Then, to Darcy, "It is for the best to do as I tell you, Nephew. Allow your anger free. Kill."
Elizabeth muttered through gritted teeth, "If I have drawn him in in such a way, I should be the last person to confess it." One hand flew to her heart. There, she felt the broach. She grasped it tightly and closed her eyes against the witch's spell. She screamed, "Nothing will ever induce me to do your bidding!" With great effort, Elizabeth turned so that she faced Darcy. She looked up into his eyes. Anguish filled his face.
Angelus looked at Darcy, then at Elizabeth as she turned to face him. Angelus moved over next to the wall and grabbed Darla. He dragged her to the door and carried her out. She murmured, "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"
Angel replied, "This effort is doomed to fail. And I'm not going to stay around to see that happen." Darla struggled free of his grasp, grunting in pain from her shoulder wound. He backed away from her, threw his hands up in disgust and said, "You want to stay? Fine. If you survive, come find me. Best wishes, love."
Darla grabbed at Angel and held him fast. She shook her head to regain her equilibrium. He struggled against her. She held him with her and peeked through the doorway. The Slayer looked at her Watcher as they struggled against the witch's spell. The others who had come in with them stared in horror.
Elizabeth's and Darcy's minds teetered back and forth amongst their emotions. Our strongest emotions are only two paces apart. What Lady Catherine could not begin to comprehend was just how powerful love can be between two people.
Slowly, Elizabeth walked up to Darcy. She lightly pressed herself against him, then reached up and caressed his cheek. Looking into his eyes she whispered, "Love cannot be defeated. When we fight it, it can be used against us, but when we give in to our feelings, love cannot be defeated. It is a magical force against evil, a weapon."
His sword clattered to the ground behind him as he heard her utter the words she'd read in Dominique's letter. He seemed to suddenly see clearly as he looked down into her eyes in wonder. He threw his arms around her and leaned down until his lips were just above hers and whispered, "Yes. Love is a very powerful force…" All the dreams, all the longings they'd felt… coursed through them. The pain from the witch's spell fell away from them both. Their lips met, softly at first, then with more power and desire.
The jewel on Elizabeth's shirt began to glow as their lips met. The light burned brighter and brighter.
Darcy pressed Elizabeth's body against his and kissed her ravenously. He was like one drowning in the pleasure of finally finding his greatest desire within his grasp. One of his hands was at the small of her back, tenderly holding her against him. Between kisses, she said, "When you hold me like that, I can survive anything." Again, they kissed. He could feel her excitement and ardor as she shivered with desire for him. Again, they kissed. Her fingers gently ran up his neck and into his curls. She groaned with hunger for him. Their kisses grew more fervent and more powerful. So did the light.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth and Darcy stepped apart from one another as the broach's light burned more fiercely. It was as bright as two suns together. Around them, young vampires began to explode, Lydia among them. Those vampires old enough to survive the power of the light surrounding them fell to their knees in a horror of remorse as fragments of their departed souls cut through them and showed them a glimpse of all of which they were incapable. Darla and Angelus pulled back from the light and shrieked in agony. They screamed as they experienced a sense of remorse and pain and pleasure, and then just as they were starting to see a glimpse of the joy they would never know again… it disappeared entirely. The Master fell unconscious. Angelus dragged Darla down the stairs and out of the lodge.
Georgiana smiled as she basked in the beautiful light. She pulled herself free and stood up from the altar. Bingley ran to Caroline's side and began wrestling with her bonds. Georgiana reached out one hand and caused the chains to fall away. Caroline wailed loudly as Bingley removed the gag.
Lady Catherine was stumbling, as though blinded by the light. Georgiana moved towards the older witch, intoning an incantation. Over the agonized screams of the vampires, the others heard the words of a transformation spell. Georgiana called on the powers of Diana and Hecate. She hesitated only for an instant as she picked a form for the older witch. The first thing that came to her mind was part of the spell Lady Catherine had been using… a lamb. Lady Catherine blinked hard as her eyes adjusted to the light. She began to scream as light surrounded her and she began to change. The others could only stare as Lady Catherine's screams changed to the bleats of a lamb, incidentally the ugliest lamb any of them had ever seen.
Georgiana moved to the window and began again to chant. Lady Catherine began to bleat very loudly as she suddenly found herself outside the lodge, surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves… her own minions. Georgiana looked out at the scene with a stony look on her face. As the lamb Lady Catherine began to scream, Georgiana turned her back to the window and walked towards the others.
The light from the broach began to dim back down. The darkness that had returned to the room seemed somehow less oppressive, however, in the absence of the evil witch.
Few vampires remained in the room. They were so weakened from their ordeal that they were easily dispatched. While Bingley and Fitzwilliam and Darcy took care of them, Lizzy walked over to where Wickham lay. Weakly, he stood. He looked at her remorselessly. She pushed him back and then whirled around and kicked him in the head as hard as she could. He fell sideways to the ground, moaning. Lizzy jumped down, one knee in his stomach. She ripped a board from the floor to use as a makeshift stake and drove it through him as she stared into his eyes and watched him disappear forever. She grunted as her knee hit the ground where he'd been. His absence was very satisfying.
Of the coven, only The Master remained. All was quiet within the attic of Purvis Lodge.
Part Thirty-Three: Welcome to the Light!
The flames inside the attic of Purvis Lodge had died down. Fitzwilliam stood by the window, watching a last few of the vampires who'd guarded the outside of the lodge flee. With the demise of Lady Catherine, the enchanted wolves had all changed back into their original form as birds. Many of them waddled harmlessly about the grounds, apparently too well-fed to manage flight. Without the witch's influence, the birds dispersed.
The sky was beginning to grow pale as the dark of night faded into a new day.
The Master lay helpless at Lizzy's feet. She looked down at him with loathing and was unable to resist giving him a sharp kick in the ribs. He let out a low grunt of pain, but did not regain consciousness. She kneeled down and looked at him more closely. Begrudgingly, she noted that he was an impressive physical specimen… very tall, large, and muscular of build. His face was so handsome as to be almost beautiful. He had very long and thick hair, which he wore loose. She wondered what he had been like in life. She also remembered Dominique's affair with him. With the hatred she felt for him now, Lizzy could not imagine what it must have been like for Dominique when she realized the true nature… of her lover. Lizzy shuddered at the thought.
She looked up at the sky through a small opening in the ceiling. Slayer-line blood had strengthened The Master to the point where she could not pierce his skin with her weapons. It seemed to her, however, that the light of day might change circumstances in her favor. Her first priority was to get the others away from the lodge, but the destruction of The Master came in a close second.
Lizzy turned to Darcy. He was holding his sister close in a protective embrace. Georgiana looked weary. Her efforts, both physical and mental, had drained her entirely. It now showed in her haggard eyes.
Lizzy said, "I will secure The Master here and return to Longbourn. I think you should get the ladies back to Netherfield. Then you, Fitzwilliam, and Giles should come back here and do as Spike suggested, blow the place up." She looked grimly satisfied at this prospect. Then she saw the look on Darcy's face and a flicker of anxiety burned inside her. She felt her stomach muscles clench.
Darcy pulled away from Georgiana and walked towards Lizzy very slowly. He took her hand in his. Always a man whose expression said more than he verbalized, the look now in his eyes spoke volumes. At that moment, Lizzy realized that Giles had not survived. Even before she knew for certain, the tears began to fall down her face. This truth cut through her. As the feeling of grief grew in her gut, she looked around until she spied Giles laying limply over by the wall. Darcy spoke plainly, "He gave his life in the fight against the darkness."
Lizzy walked over nearer to Giles. She looked at the broken form of the old Watcher and asked, "How did he die?" She choked back a sob and forced herself not to cry. Darcy watched her body stiffen with the effort of restraint.
Darcy replied in a low voice, "I believe it was Angelus. When everything began, Giles uncovered the cross and then tried to help the girls, I think." He pulled Lizzy's hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. She looked up into the gentle comfort in his eyes.
Miss Bingley spoke for the first time. Her tone was husky with regret, "It was the one called Angelus. The old horse trainer was trying to find a way to release me when that creature came upon him with a sword. They fought, but the demon won... at least he won the sword battle. Strangely enough, Mr. Giles looked pleased when death claimed him. He put some sort of curse on that awful man and told him he would end up in Hell. He sounded absolutely certain of it, really." The others looked at each other and silently considered her words.
Darcy sighed and said, "Well, I can't think of any demon who deserves it more." His own sense of loss showed as he spoke. Elizabeth pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. She was rewarded with the slightest of smiles from him. She became aware of Miss Bingley staring at them in undisguised wonder. She blushed slightly, but did not move away from Darcy. She closed her eyes for a moment and attempted to regain her equilibrium.
When Lizzy opened her eyes she gave Darcy's hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. She turned and looked again at The Master. She grabbed a heavy club that lay on the floor. Then she leapt up on the center part of the black altar. She swung the club directly at the ceiling. The boards of the ceiling were already weakened from the explosion earlier, so they gave way rather easily. The exertion felt good. It only took a few minutes to form a rather large opening in the ceiling just over the altar.
Then, Lizzy leapt down and, with a grimace of distaste, lifted The Master to the altar. He moaned slightly. She took the chains which had been used to bind Lydia, Georgiana, and Caroline and used them to secure The Master to the altar. She looped the chains through each other as she wound them around his body. She checked the security of the bonds severely with her own strength, not holding back at all. She endeavored to strike a balance between binding him tightly and leaving his skin as exposed as possible. Once he was secured, she stood back and admired her efforts. There was no way he would be able to free himself. She muttered darkly, "That should hold you, Master." She wiped the feel of his clammy skin off her hands with a shudder. She looked up as Darcy stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, a grim look of approval on his face. Lizzy savored the look she saw from Darcy. Righteous outrage became him quite well.
The moonlight washed over The Master thoroughly. With the approaching dawn, the light of the sun would do the same.
Lizzy walked over to the window where Fitzwilliam stood and looked out across the countryside. She stood next to him impatiently waiting, swinging the club back and forth in one hand. Fitzwilliam, his face covered with smoke, bruises, and scrapes, smiled and said, "Look! The day comes!"
The sky began to change to a pale purple. Still, they waited. Lizzy thought of the days and nights to come. Surely, now that she had defeated The Master, the more dangerous of the vampires would know to stay out of her way. She sighed with satisfaction. While she would never grow complacent in her Fated duties, she knew that it was likely that she had faced the worst challenges she would as a Slayer…. and she had survived.
Darcy came over to the window too. He stood at her side and looked out at the countryside. Lizzy sighed as she felt his hand lightly touch hers. As the sun began to show its face, Lizzy savored the glorious warmth of the first rays of the dawn.
As those rays passed in to the attic room, there came a strange hissing noise. Lizzy turned and watched transfixed by the horror as little wisps of smoke issued forth from the body of The Master. Miss Bingley gasped and ran over to the doorway to the stairs with her hand covering her mouth. Charles walked over there and held her comfortingly, burying his own head in her shoulder to put the spectacle out of his sight. The others began to back away.
Lizzy strode over and stood before the altar. The Master's hair began to burn away, falling from his body and slowly disappearing into ash. His skin began to change horrifically, grooves appearing in its smoothness. As the hissing grew louder and louder, he awoke. He bellowed in pain and terror. He struggled against the chains, pulling at them to no avail. He screamed again when he opened his eyes and saw her standing before him. Lizzy felt herself trembling as he looked at her. His eyes, always so black and flat, changed colors as she stared into them. She took a step forward and whispered, "Welcome to the light, Master." Again, he shrieked. He struggled in vain. He writhed and jerked at the chains. His struggles reminded Lizzy of her own when he'd had her bound in chains that horrible night at Rosings. His hissing skin began to slowly bubble. She felt ill and shuddered with revulsion.
She could see that his demise was going to be slow and agonizing. Much as he deserved it, she could not stand to watch. She carefully edged back from him, watching him struggle as she left him there. Darcy picked up Giles' body to carry out with them for proper burial. Fitzwilliam shouldered his crossbow and led the group down the stairs, concerned about the denizens of the lodge cellar. Lizzy was the last to leave the attic. As they left, The Master shrieked, "No! No! Come back! Come to me! This cannot be! It is not written!" He continued his tirade in German and then in languages that none of them… not even Darcy… understood. Then The Master began to utter noises of demonic anguish that would haunt them all for years to come.
Lizzy moved to the front of the group as they neared the bottom of the stairwell. She still held the club she'd used to form the hole in the attic ceiling. Now, she was carefully poised to protect the others from any additional demon that might come their way. Fitzwilliam passed the opening to the tunnels without incident and turned around to provide crossbow coverage as the others scurried past it.
Miss Bingley shrieked piercingly when a tentacle reached out and grasped her about the waist of her night dress as she attempted to pass. The creature uttered a noise unlike anything any of them had ever heard before. Lizzy moved in and pounded it with her club until it released Caroline. The thing slithered back with a yelp as Miss Bingley fairly ran over the Colonel in her haste to escape the lodge. As Lizzy closely guarded the opening, the others passed without incident. She tossed the club to Fitzwilliam and grabbed the boulder that had originally blocked their entry to the stairwell. She moved that boulder before the opening to the tunnels beneath Purvis Lodge. Then, the entire group left the lodge with a sigh of relief and nary a backward glance.
Outside, all was now quiet. Lizzy looked around at the scant visible evidence of all they'd faced and sighed. There were many abandoned weapons to be seen, but little else. A stray tuft of wool blew by on the breeze. She picked up one of her stakes from the ground. She knew that she would have many busy nights of patrolling ahead of her. Most of the escaped vampires would stay in the Meryton area, as they had no leader to instruct them otherwise.
She smiled as she saw Leicester and Buttercup standing quietly under a nearby tree. The horses were well-trained, indeed, that they would follow their masters rather than returning to their stables after the bird attack earlier. Lizzy felt a pang of grief grasp her heart as she thought of Giles' dedication. He had given of himself entirely. Darcy gently set the old Watcher's body down and mounted Leicester. Lizzy followed on Buttercup, wary lest any vampires be hiding in the caves. There were none. They were able to fetch the wagon they'd left there without further incident.
A few moments later, the group was in the wagon and ready to return to Netherfield. The sun had risen completely. The Master's screams still followed them from inside Purvis Lodge. Darcy squinted against the light as he looked at the lodge and said, "We will bring back explosives and do away with that infernal place today in the safety of daylight."
Lizzy nodded. Then she leapt down from Buttercup as she spied her tiger spear where she'd abandoned it in the grass earlier. With it secured to her back, she removed the sword and sheath from her waist and threw it in the wagon. She found another stake in the grass as well, placed it in her pouch and then remounted Buttercup. She said, "I must return to Longbourn before my absence is discovered."
Darcy looked at her searchingly, nodded, and said, "I will accompany you so I may lead your horse back to Netherfield." He was anxious to have some time alone with Elizabeth so that they might discuss all that had happened. Fitzwilliam, Bingley, and Georgiana murmured thanks and farewell. Elizabeth smiled wanly and offered the same.
As they turned to ride away from the others Miss Bingley spoke up quickly and quietly from the wagon, "Miss Bennet? To face such dangers on behalf of others is quite extraordinary. Thank you." The look on Miss Bingley's expression was one of pained restraint. She was shaking now that her ordeal was concluded. She smoothed her night dress with as much dignity as she could muster.
Lizzy was very affected by Miss Bingley's graciousness. Like Lydia, Miss Bingley had suffered a very abrupt introduction into knowledge of all that goes bump in the night. Lizzy tried to speak, but the lump in her throat prevented it. She nodded in reply and rode away, Darcy close behind. He saw how affected she was and how she struggled to hide her pain. They did not speak as they crossed the countryside.
Lizzy felt very vulnerable to discovery and was relieved to see Longbourn come into sight. She slowed Buttercup, stopped just beyond the trees around the house and dismounted. As she moved away from Buttercup to speak to Darcy, she gasped.
Mr. Bennet stepped from beyond the trees. He was dressed in his great coat and his face showed anger and confusion. He cried out, "Lizzy, have you lost your senses, riding about the country with this man dressed in such a manner? Have you not always hated him? What is the meaning of this? What am I to think?" Elizabeth took an involuntary step back.
Part Thirty Four, Light and Shadows
Darcy dismounted Leicester and stood behind Elizabeth as she faced her father. Darcy's expression was at the same time forbidding and respectful. After everything that had occurred, he was unwilling to stand by and watch anyone attack her in any way. He was mindful of the tenuous nature of their new-found intimacy, however.
Elizabeth rushed forward and took her father's hands in her own. With tears in her eyes, she said, "Oh, Papa! Please don't speak so. Mr. Darcy is the best man I've ever known. I know I did not always love him as I do now, but do not pain me by speaking so! There is no reason for you to be angry… with him. It's just…"
A variety of emotions played across Darcy's face as he heard her words. He noted that she spoke of him as innocent, but not herself.
Mr. Bennet cupped Elizabeth's cheek in one hand and looked into her eyes. His face softened. He said, "You are a good girl, Lizzy. Do not think I don't know that. It is just that with Lydia's behavior I've been questioning myself as a father quite a bit of late." He looked surprised as she choked back a sob and stared down at the ground. She trembled visibly. Mr. Bennet looked even more surprised when Darcy moved up closer behind Elizabeth as though he wished to offer her comfort.
Mr. Bennet's look at Darcy was one of warning. Darcy met his gaze with a disturbing lack of willingness to comply. Suddenly, Mr. Bennet stood back and said, "Is this blood on your shirt, Elizabeth? Why are you dressed like a man, anyway?"
Worn down from the emotions and events of the night, Elizabeth was unable to respond. When he saw the look of anguish on her face, Mr. Bennet was at a loss. Darcy ached to comfort her, but did not wish to embarrass her in front of her father. His arms burned from emptiness, and he unconsciously clasped his hands into fists. Uncomfortable with Elizabeth's apparent distress, Mr. Bennet said, "Well, go on now, Elizabeth. Get into the house before your mother awakens and joins our discussion." Then he looked at Darcy and said, "Mr. Darcy, I would like to speak with you at length. I am sure you can understand my concern. If you are a man of honor, you will grant my request." He lifted his chin as he offered this last in a manner that Elizabeth had inherited.
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth's strained expression and said, "I should very much like to speak with you, sir. I will call tomorrow." He saw her eyes widen slightly as she heard the undercurrent in his words. He continued to stare at her.
Mr. Bennet said gruffly, "Yes. Well, it sounds as though we have much to discuss. Until then, good day." He bowed stiffly to Darcy. Mr. Bennet was utterly baffled by his second daughter's appearance and by her companion.
With regret, Darcy said, in a most proper way, "Good day, Mr. Bennet, Miss Bennet." His look to Elizabeth as he bowed weakened her knees.
As Darcy rode away leading Buttercup along behind, he heard Mr. Bennet ask, "When did you learn to ride a horse? I thought they frightened you." Darcy looked back and saw Elizabeth looking after him as she walked toward the house with her father. He rode towards Netherfield thinking of her the entire way.
Once at Netherfield, Darcy went straight to the stables. This was not so he could have Leicester looked after. Giles stored weapons in the stables. Fitzwilliam and Bingley awaited him there. They were loading barrels of powder on the wagon. He joined them. The weary men returned to the lodge and placed barrels and loose powder all around the outside. Despite the daylight, Darcy was on his guard. He did not know what other kinds of demons might be in the area… or their limitations. He would not be caught unawares at this point. The men went about their appointed task quickly and quietly. Darcy felt a growing sense of discomfort as they worked.
As they were about to light the powder, Darcy realized that his discomfort was due to the extreme quiet. His curiosity was piqued by the silence. He had expected The Master to linger in the light for hours to come. A sense of unease gripped him. He turned to the others. "I want to make sure The Master is still where we left him." Fitzwilliam sighed heavily as he shouldered his crossbow. With a grateful look to his cousin, Darcy continued, "Bingley, stay with the wagon. If something happens, at least one of us should be poised for escape…"
Bingley grudgingly acceded to Darcy's wishes. Before entering, Darcy and the Colonel forced open as many of the windows as they could from outside. The bright light of day spilled into the lodge. They entered the light-filled rooms cautiously. They dashed past the entry area with its stone-blocked opening to the cellar and on to the stairs. Glad to be past the entrance, they went up into the attic quickly.
Atop the altar there were ashes beneath the chains. Darcy was surprised when he saw them. A stray thought flitted through his mind regarding The Master's bones… It seemed to him that he'd read once that when The Master died his bones should be separated. He remembered it only because the thought of a vampire having remains other than ashes was so strange. However, he could not recall the particulars at this moment. Darcy resolved to research the matter thoroughly.
Fitzwilliam slapped Darcy's arm impatiently and said, "See, Darcy! The Master is gone. Now, let us depart and finish this." Startled from his reverie, Darcy looked at his cousin soberly. Fitzwilliam waited to see if Darcy would share his troubled thoughts. Darcy did not. With an uneasy look back at the altar, Darcy nodded agreement.
They turned and walked down the stairs, glad it was over. A few moments later, they lit the powder and left Purvis Lodge burning to the ground in a flurry of explosions. From beneath the lodge, they heard the cries of demons in distress.
As the men retreated, they passed the far-off opening of a cave. Darla stood there, glaring at them with unabashed hatred, though unwilling to show herself in the sunlight. Darla wore a long, black cape. Its heavy hood was thrown back and she had shed her very heavy gloves. She loathed venturing out in daylight. No matter the measures she took, she knew that she walked through destruction with each step… destruction that she now feared more than ever. Through the heavy cloth of her coverings, she felt the sting of the light. She despised it nearly as much as she despised the Slayer and her friends! She shivered in revulsion as she thought of the death of the fledgling she'd lured into Purvis Lodge only to expose to the light of day. His ashes now lay atop the altar, chains carefully arranged over them.
She turned from glaring at the passing men when she heard a small noise. She moved towards its source with tear-filled eyes. As she looked down at her wounded Master she cried harder. The glorious mane that had been his hair was gone. His eyes were bright red and unseeing. The nails on his fingers were white, almost as white as his sunken skin. His skin was now deeply wrinkled and scarred, a horrific mass of whiteness against whiteness brighter still. What had remained of the outstandingly handsome German baron he'd once been had burned away in the light of the sun. He trembled all over, his entire being wracked with pain and weakness. He was so feeble, he could not even lift his hand. All the strength of him was gone. It would be centuries before he would again be the demon he'd once been. Yet, somehow, he knew she was there with him. With the remains of his parched lips he whispered, "You always have been and always shall be my favorite."
Through her tears, Darla smiled. She was as bound to her Master as she'd ever been. With her help, he would again be himself. This Slayer would be dead and gone by then, but The Master would return. There would be other Slayers for him to kill. Delicately, Darla cut at her wrist and placed it against his mouth. He drank.
Darcy had a hard time getting to sleep despite his weariness. He thought of Elizabeth's obvious anguish. He worried over the shadow he'd seen in her eyes. He relived much of the fighting again, pacing as he recalled his exchange with Angelus and the death of Giles. He wondered if there was anything he could have done differently that might have changed things for Elizabeth's sister. Again, he thought of the shadow in Elizabeth's eyes.
Finally, Darcy fell asleep. The events he'd been concentrating on as he went to sleep passed from his thoughts into his dreams. He awoke feeling as though there were a great weight pressing on him. Before he got out of the bed, he closed his eyes and prayed for the spirit of the woman he loved.
That same day, in the afternoon, Jane Bennet knocked lightly at Elizabeth's bedroom door as she balanced a tray of food in her other hand. She heard a mumbled, "Come in, Jane." from her sister and entered the room. Jane smiled as she moved to the bed and waited to give Elizabeth the tray.
Elizabeth sat up groggily. She found that she was ravenous. After entering the house, she'd promised her father that they would talk later and then had scurried to her room. She'd barely been able to keep her eyes open long enough to change into a sleeping gown, pin her broach to it, and climb beneath the bed covers. There, sleep had taken her immediately. Now, as she gratefully consumed the tea and sandwiches that Jane had brought her, she began to feel almost herself again. Then she recalled all that had happened. She suddenly set down her tea and stared straight ahead of her.
Jane did her best to be patient. She waited and then asked, "Lizzy, did you find Lydia?" Looking for an occupation to distract her from the fright of the moment, Jane took the tray from Elizabeth and walked over to set it on the dresser. She was sure that if the news were good, then Elizabeth would have told them already, or even brought Lydia home with her. Her heart thudded in dread.
Tears welled up in Elizabeth's eyes at the question. Jane saw this, gasped, "Oh, no," and began to cry. She flew to Elizabeth's side. The two sisters embraced, each lost within both her own grief and that of the other.
Elizabeth felt a lump fill her throat. Her chest ached as she recalled the knife plunging downward. She closed her eyes tightly and willed away the tears. Then she choked out, "Oh, Jane! Poor Lydia! When we reached the room where she was being held, they began their spell. The Master was going to begin with Miss Darcy, but was deterred by… an explosion. Then everything began to happen so quickly. We fought them and fought them. I couldn't get to The Master in time. The next thing I knew, he had bitten her. Then he stabbed her with a ritual knife. It was horrible. She turned and looked into my eyes as it happened. She knew that she was dying and she knew that I'd failed her." Elizabeth trembled as she spoke.
Concerned by Elizabeth's reaction, Jane began to calm down. She stroked her sister's hair and asked, "What else happened, Elizabeth?" She knew from the way Elizabeth looked that there was even more to be known. Silent tears fell from Jane's eyes as she tried to comfort her sister. She spoke more firmly, "What else happened?"
Elizabeth held tighter to Jane. There was a knock at the door. Mr. Bennet said, "Elizabeth? May I come in?" Jane pulled back from Elizabeth and went to open the door. Mr. Bennet stood there, a serious look on his face. He said, "Jane, I would speak to your sister alone, please." Jane looked at Elizabeth with a teary smile of affection and left.
Mr. Bennet walked over and pulled a chair next to the bed. He sat down and looked at Elizabeth. He reached out a hand and affectionately brushed back an unruly curl of hair from her face. He spoke in a whisper, "Elizabeth, are you a vampire Slayer?" Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.
That night, after dinner, Elizabeth walked out of the house. She wore a shawl about her shoulders to ward off the cold she felt from within herself. She crossed the lawn slowly. There was a slight breeze that caused her loose curls to sway about her face. She brushed back a curl as she looked up at the heavens. The stars shone bright and clear, with wisps of clouds barely hiding the sight of any of them. Spying a falling star, she made a wish. Then, concentrating, Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened to the night attentively. The breeze caused the leaves in the trees to rustle gently. Only the usual sounds of the night made themselves known to her for several moments. She sat on a bench in the garden and bowed her head, deep in thought. Finally, she heard the sound of a horse approaching the house carefully and quietly.
At the edge of the trees, she saw Darcy. She noticed that he had only brought his own horse. She smiled very slightly. He had anticipated her unwillingness to patrol this night.
He left Leicester at the edge of the property and walked over to her. He said, "I hope I am not interrupting your solitary reverie."
Elizabeth smiled the barest of smiles and replied, "The interruption is most welcome, I assure you. I do not particularly wish to be alone with my thoughts tonight."
She noticed that Darcy was only lightly armed. Apparently he agreed with her assessment that they'd faced enough battles on this day, though he was far too cautious to ever step foot outside at night unprepared. He stood before her, silent and serious. She blinked back tears and held out a trembling hand to him.
Darcy stepped forward and took Elizabeth's hand in his own. He noted that though she wore a proper and lovely dress and shawl, she wore no gloves. Her hand was very cold. He lifted it to his lips and placed a tender kiss there. She looked at him with a brief flicker of pleasure. Then the shadow fell back over her eyes. Looking around, Darcy joined her on the bench. He held to her hand as he sat down beside her.
Elizabeth stared forward. It seemed to Darcy that she hovered on the edge of tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket and said jestingly, "You may take this one as well, but I shall have to return to London before I am able to offer you any others."
She glanced at him and took the handkerchief into a tight grip. She did not smile. He could feel her tension in the air between them.
Darcy asked, "Is everything all right with your father?"
Elizabeth uttered a combination of a chuckle and a sob and said, "Yes. You did not tell me that my Grandmother Bennet was your father's first Slayer. My father apparently spied on them once and learned of the activities of the Slayer... he's always been very observant. Though he'd feared since her death that the same might be true for one of his children, he was not surprised. I told him everything… almost."
Darcy carefully leaned towards her and asked, "What did you not tell him?" He studied her face. Elizabeth was unable to speak. Darcy allowed her time to recover herself as he said, "I will be glad to search for your grandmother's Slayer diaries, if you like. They might be somewhere at Pemberley or my house in London. I confess, I did not think of who your ancestors must have been. My father's first Slayer was called Danielle." Elizabeth nodded. Darcy continued, "I did not know her family name. I only knew her as Danielle, the vampire Slayer."
Elizabeth nodded again. She said, "Do not distress yourself for not having told me. I did not mean to sound as though I were angered by the revelation. I am not. It rather comforts me that I am really Fate's choice."
Darcy said, "Something else is bothering you, then. Perhaps it is related to what you did not share with your father?" She flinched and looked away from him.
Darcy said, "Do you regret…?" He stopped, pushed away his momentary feeling of insecurity about their relationship, and focused on her. Usually it was his role to rely on her strength. Tonight, it seemed that he was the stronger one. He saw that his earlier fears had proven themselves as she turned her sad eyes back to him. He continued, "that you are alive?"
She glared at him and pulled her hand from his. He met her gaze with an assumed air of calm. Thoughts whirled through his mind. He was amazed to find his duty as Watcher and his lover's desire to help her so compatible. Her lips trembled as she struggled to reply. He forced himself to stay still and await her answer. She finally shook her head.
Darcy sighed, "Elizabeth…" Her head jerked up and she looked at him as he used her Christian name. "I wish things had turned out differently where your sister is concerned. I am truly sorry that we were unable to stop The Master in time to prevent her death. It grieves me indeed that… The Master… took her life." He met her gaze with his own unwaveringly as he emphasized these last words.
She breathed out loudly and sat back. "I failed her and then used her." Her self accusation echoed in the night.
He softly argued, "She was already dying. Had you not encouraged Wickham as you did, then either he would have decided to do it on his own or you would now be undead and mistress to The Master. If you were undead, not only would there not be another Slayer, but you would become a murderer. Many innocent people would die."
She closed her eyes. "I feel like a murderer for what I did to her."
Darcy reclaimed her hand. He pulled it to his lips again and kissed it. He said, "I know, but you are wrong. The Master had injured her to the point of death. Her destiny was set. What you did was what you had to do. There are some things that we cannot escape. St. Vigeous was destined to receive a sacrifice."
Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes again. She said, "This is most unlike me. I usually only try to think of the past as it gives me pleasure. I just cannot forget her eyes as she looked at me from the altar… and I cannot bear to tell my family all of what happened. I told Jane that Lydia was murdered, but was unable to tell her about what I did. I did not even tell my father that she is dead. I could not bear to tell him. I hear my mother's words from the nightmare… 'oh, my dear girl!'" She put her hands up to her temples and pressed there.
Darcy could not stand it anymore. He pulled Elizabeth into his embrace and huskily said, "Do not torment yourself, so, my love. If you do not wish to tell your parents about what happened to your sister, I will arrange for them to hear something different."
For a moment, Elizabeth allowed the words 'my love' to reverberate through her. Then, she pulled back and looked at him quizzically. "Whatever can you mean… something different?" He still held her by the shoulders.
Darcy grimaced and replied tentatively, "I cannot abide what I hear among the gossiping servants at Netherfield. People talk of your sister's elopement with the belief that she is either living unmarried with Wickham or has been abandoned to her fate in London. I would that such things could not be said." He looked cautiously at Elizabeth, afraid his statements would offend her.
Elizabeth sighed and said, "She did mean to elope with him." She looked down at the ground, shamefaced.
He replied, "She was under the spell of his thrall. She knew not what she did."
Elizabeth winced. Darcy saw and, without a word, pulled her into his arms. Her arms went around him and her hands clasped around the back of his neck tightly. He lowered his head so that his cheek lay against hers. He felt the tension growing in her and then her sudden release as she began to cry. Darcy put one hand on the back of her head and guided her cheek to his shoulder. He stroked her hair and held her as she cried until her tears seemed to be all gone.
In the dreadful quiet that followed, Darcy whispered, "It was not your fault. I know what you think. You think that you should have realized the truth about Wickham and slayed him, therefore preventing him from luring Lydia into danger."
Weakly, she said, "I'm the Slayer. I, who know the demons, should have seen. I should not have allowed my feelings to overwhelm me. I should not have been his fool."
Darcy held her closer, one hand gently stroking her back. He sighed, Yes, my love, you are the Slayer, the chosen one. That does not mean that you can make everything right. It just means that without you, this world would be far worse. The final victory will be won by far more powerful forces than we know." He pulled back so that he could see her face. Then he gave her a gentle kiss.
As they kissed, each of them opened their eyes, wondering if something would happen to the broach. As each realized the other shared their thought, they chuckled. Then they began to laugh, first softly and then heartily. It was glorious to feel a sense of relief and release after all they'd faced. There was no visible light, but with their laughter, a shadow began to pass. There were still tears in Elizabeth's eyes, but they were ill-matched to the smile that lit up her face.
Darcy brushed Elizabeth's hair back and leaned in again. Her lips met his. Her hands, warmer now, entwined gently in his hair. He deepened the kiss as he felt her hands move down to his shoulders. He pulled her closer. They were both lost in the sensation of being near the other. Darcy moved his lips to her cheek, then her salty eyelids, then her other cheek and then down her throat. She shuddered with pleasure at his gentle kisses. Though there was no visible light, Darcy felt as though he was bathed in flame. Again, he tasted her lips.
Elizabeth tingled all over. She allowed the sense of joy to wash over her, a balm to her wounded heart. Suddenly feeling playful, she deftly unknotted his cravat and sought to return the pleasure his kisses gave her. She nipped at his earlobe. Then, as she removed his cravat, she trailed kisses down his neck. As she kissed him where his neck met his shoulder, she remembered the end of her nightmare where she'd seen herself feeding on him. She gratefully pulled him closer, delighting in the rapidity of his pulse and the warmth of him. She whispered, "Love is a powerful force, don't you think?"
Darcy took her hands in his and covered them with kisses. His breathing was quite rapid. Her playfulness nearly overwhelmed him. He struggled to control himself. He leaned down and gently kissed her neck as she'd just kissed him. Her breath came faster. Then, he lifted the cross necklace she wore and reverently placed a kiss on the cross. As it fell back coolly against her chest, Elizabeth felt how warm she'd become. Gently, Darcy ran his hand down her arm and the side of her body, resting it at her waist. She savored the feel of being so close in his embrace.
She stared up at Darcy and whispered, "I'm glad that I'm alive."
His smile was brilliant. He leaned in closer and kissed her forehead. He said, "As am I."
Tempted though she was by his nearness, Elizabeth, mindful of her father's awkwardly spoken fears, forced herself to pull back. Darcy noticed this. A flicker of regret passed over his features, but then he smiled and placed a kiss on each of her hands. He saw the questioning look in her eyes as she struggled to regain composure. Enchanted, he teetered on the edge of his own self-control happily.
After a few moments, Elizabeth asked, "What would you propose I tell my parents about Lydia?"
Darcy continued to hold Elizabeth's hands. He said, "It is your decision. I would recommend seeing to it that an announcement is placed in the papers indicating that she and Wickham married. That would repair your family name and reputation. After some time, I would have everyone learn of her heroic passing. We would have to invent the particulars to be published, but it must be heroic." Elizabeth looked at Darcy uncertainly, as though she wondered if he were mocking. He was not. He continued, "I think that she was destined to die that you might live. To me, that is most heroic."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, amazed that she had tears left. Darcy held her close as she cried again, stroking her arm and placing kisses on her face and lips every so often. They heard the clock inside Longbourn strike midnight. With a sigh, Elizabeth pulled from Darcy's embrace. She said, "I would appreciate it if you would see to the announcement." He nodded. She continued, "I suppose I really ought to return to the house." She looked very reluctant, but he could plainly see her exhaustion.
Darcy said, "I promised your father that I would call tomorrow. After I fulfill that obligation, I will go to London and see to the announcement. I must also call upon Giles' family and take him home to them." As he paused, Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed his cheek reassuringly. He continued, "You and I will not have much chance to speak tomorrow, I think. So, I would prefer to say a proper good-bye now."
Elizabeth said jokingly, "Proper?" She crooked one eyebrow and looked at Darcy with an amused smile.
He stroked one hand lightly down the side of her face and neck, sending shivers throughout her entire body. He smiled as she eagerly leaned forward and kissed him. He ran his other hand down her back covetously, reveling in her response to his touch. She whispered, "I love you," and kissed him again. Their kiss deepened.
Reluctantly pulling away, Darcy replied, "And I love you… Sleep well… dearest, loveliest Elizabeth."
Part Thirty Four (B), A Shadow That Passes Slowly
The next morning, Elizabeth joined her family in the parlor after breakfast. Her father read the paper as he sat by the fire. Her mother paced back and forth, chattering on about Bingley. "For three days he has shunned us! He must have been told about Lydia… those Lucases are artful people you know… out for what they can get," cried Mrs. Bennet. She continued, "If you would only visit him, my dear!"
Mr. Bennet was in no frame of mind to bear with such talk. He replied, "I will do no such thing. You told me that if I visited him last year he would marry one of our daughters. Well, it all came to nought. Visit him, indeed! I shall do no such thing."
Mrs. Bennet answered, "And our girls will all end old maids!"
With a curious glance towards Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet said dryly, "Somehow I doubt that." She blushed slightly.
At that moment, Kitty, who stood by the window, cried out, "Mama! I think it is him!"
Elizabeth looked at Jane. Jane swallowed hard and attempted to compose herself. Mrs. Bennet ran to the window and exclaimed, "It is him! He is here! He is here! Jane, go get your blue gown on." Jane began to move to comply, but Mrs. Bennet realized there would not be time and pulled her back, sputtering, "No, no. Stay. It will have to do. Sit up straight. A man can go a long way without saying much at all. Oh, my dear, he is here! I have always known that God made you so beautiful for a reason!" Jane blushed deeply.
Kitty said, "There is someone with him… that proud, tall man…" Elizabeth noticed her father's eyes sharply upon her. Now, it was Jane who looked to see Elizabeth's reaction.
Mrs. Bennet moved back to the window and exclaimed, "Mr. Darcy! It is. Well, I shall welcome him only because he is a friend of Bingley's. Else, I cannot stand the sight of him." Her face was overspread with her most obstinate expression. Elizabeth's heart sank as she anticipated the embarrassment to come. Again, she noticed her father's eyes on her. She found that she regarded the moments to come with equal anticipation and dread.
The gentlemen arrived. Jane did her best to appear calm and unaffected. She succeeded in appearing calm.
Elizabeth was exceedingly aware of her father's scrutiny, but unable to repress her response to Darcy. From the moment she saw him, she was overwhelmingly affected by his presence. His quiet stare burned through her. She thought of the kisses and caresses they'd shared the previous evening and looked forward to a time when they would not have to part at evening's end. Her lips burned. Unconsciously, she put a hand to her lips. Darcy stared fixedly at her, caught in the same thoughts that filled her mind.
As Mrs. Bennet officiously greeted Bingley and showed him to a chair, Darcy moved to stand behind the chair. Elizabeth was mortified by her mother's cool greeting to Darcy. He was grateful for the lack of attention the others, excepting Mr. Bennet, focused on him. Mr. Bennet seemed most attentive. Darcy turned to gaze out the window as Mrs. Bennet began to talk.
Mrs. Bennet said, "There have been many changes in the neighborhood since you were last here, Mr. Bingley." Bingley smiled at her politely. She continued, her curls bouncing in wild excitement, "Only yesterday someone destroyed Purvis Lodge! No one knows who did it… or why… and no one can recollect seeing any member of the Purvis family in months. It is most distressing to think that there could be men of violence right here in Hertfordshire!"
To his credit, Bingley managed to keep a straight face as he listened to Mrs. Bennet in a seemingly attentive manner. Elizabeth saw a faint look of amusement in Darcy's reflection in the window. Mrs. Bennet suddenly became worried that she might have said something that would cause Bingley to think ill of the neighborhood. She said, "I am sure that it is all nothing. Whatever some people may think, the country is a vast deal more pleasant than Town. I am sure you will want to stay here in Hertfordshire for a long time."
With an eager glance at Jane, Bingley replied, "My schedule is not fixed, but I should like to stay here some weeks… that is several weeks, at least." Jane blushed under Mr. Bingley's gaze. Her mother was very pleased.
Mrs. Bennet chatted with Bingley, non-stop. She called for the servants to bring tea. She talked of the marriage and widow-hood of Charlotte Lucas Collins. She talked of Mrs. Long's nieces. She talked of nothing.
After several minutes of listening to her chatter without seeming to pause for breath, even Bingley wore a stupefied expression. Mrs. Bennet grew concerned by his silence and his look. She feared that he was thinking ill of them all because of Lydia. Therefore, she offered, "We appreciate your condescension in visiting us during this time of trouble. It is most benevolent of you. Your friendship means much." She looked at him expectantly.
Awkwardly, Bingley said, "Have you had any news of your youngest daughter? I was very sorry…"
So quietly as to go unheard by her mother, Jane replied, "Thank you." Bingley met her gaze with eyes full of love. She looked first surprised, then pleased by his attention. She moved to help serve the tea. Elizabeth did the same, sharing a pleased exchange of glances with her sister. Elizabeth prepared a cup of tea and moved towards Darcy to give it to him.
Mrs. Bennet sat back in her chair, pleased with Bingley's condolences. She chose to accept his interest as a sincere expression of friendship towards her family. She even dared to hope that in spite of her youngest daughter's indiscretions, the fortunes of her eldest daughter might yet be elevated. She said, "I blame it on those Forsters! For she is not the sort of girl to do such a thing if looked after properly. Oh! My dear girl!" Bingley was confused into silence on the subject.
These last words were those that had been echoing through Elizabeth's mind since the first night she'd had the prophecy dream about the events that would occur at Purvis Lodge. As she heard her mother speak them, Elizabeth lost her hold on the cup of tea. It shattered on the floor at her feet. She knelt to retrieve it as her mother shrieked in dismay. Darcy knelt to help her pick up the pieces of the cup. Behind the chair and out of the sight of the others, he briefly grasped Elizabeth's hand. She gave him a small smile of gratitude.
Mr. Bennet said, "Mr. Darcy, won't you come with me to my library now? There is far less flying china there, and I have a book I should like to show you." Darcy straightened up and followed Mr. Bennet.
Mrs. Bennet was pleasantly astonished. She took Mr. Bennet's action as assistance to getting Jane and Bingley alone. Now, it only remained for her to do her part and remove the others from the room. She set to her task with alacrity. "Elizabeth, you must go and change your gown. You have tea on your skirt." Unable to deny the truth of this observation, Elizabeth left the room. Mrs. Bennet continued, "Mary, Kitty, there is something I would speak to you about. Come this way."
With quick curtsies all around, the room was cleared but for Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley. Jane smiled shyly as Charles moved to her side on the sofa. With all he'd faced in recent days, Charles was not the same shy fellow Jane had first fallen in love with. She was easily reconciled to the change in him. He confessed his error in believing her indifferent to him and professed his love. Jane, tongue-tied, stammered as she told him she loved him too. He found her innocence charming and delightful. They speedily agreed to be married.
When Elizabeth interrupted their passionate kisses of reunion and anticipation, Charles went to the library to ask Mr. Bennet's permission to marry Jane. As Charles entered the library, Darcy took his leave and headed for London. He would return in ten days time.
The days that Darcy spent in London passed slowly for Elizabeth. She resumed her evening patrols. As she'd expected, there were still many vampires from the coven in and around the Meryton area. She was sorry to see the anxiety that knowledge brought to her father, but assured him as best as she could that she would be careful in her duties. The fledgling vampires, many of them made by vampires too young to give them great strength, gave the Slayer little trouble. Of the more powerful vampires, such as Angelus and Darla, there was no sign.
On the second night she returned home after a successful patrol, she told her father not to worry so for her. He replied, "I know that you are strong and skilled, Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy assured me of that quite forcefully. I know that you have been trained to take care of yourself. But I worry for you nonetheless." Elizabeth stepped towards him, surprised at his emotional outburst. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "Now, go on with you," his emotional distance restored. As she left the room, she heard him clear his throat gruffly.
The days were filled with visits from Bingley and with reading the training texts of the Slayer. Elizabeth was also delighted to read the diary of Danielle, the vampire Slayer… her grandmother. Danielle's diary was the book that Mr. Bennet had desired to show to Darcy on his last visit. Darcy had suggested that Mr. Bennet give it to Elizabeth to read.
Danielle Bennet was the first Slayer George Darcy had served. She knew her Watcher and his family well. Through Danielle's words, Elizabeth learned to know young George Darcy as Danielle's friend and ally. She read of their work together. She also learned of the courtship of George Darcy and Anne Fitzwilliam and their early years of marriage. Elizabeth felt that she learned more of her own Watcher by reading of his parents.
She was saddened to see how suddenly the diary ended. One day Danielle was looking forward to a visit from her eldest son, the next there was no entry in the diary. Elizabeth flipped through the blank pages sadly. Resolutely, she wrote in her own Slayer diary. She tried not to wonder how many empty pages would remain for future Slayers to observe. Regardless of how many there were, she was determined to fill the pages she wrote on with details of the kind of life she'd always wanted. She impatiently waited for Darcy to return.
Five days after Darcy went to London an express came from Uncle Gardiner. In it, he told his brother-in-law of his discovery of Lydia and Wickham living together in London. He announced that they had chosen to marry from Gracechurch Street and would be traveling straight to Newcastle with his new regiment. As with any military man, there was a chance that unrest in Ireland or on the continent might change their plans, but for now they were assigned to Newcastle and likely to remain there for some years.
Mrs. Bennet's reaction was split almost evenly between delight that Lydia was to be married and distress that the couple would not be coming to Longbourn. Elizabeth and Jane did their best to bear with their mother's joy and grief. When the marriage announcement appeared in the papers that came the next day, Elizabeth could only stare at the words. Her guilt still remained. It was a shadow that would pass slowly from her life.