Darla entered Lilah Morgan’s office, as she did all things, with a seemingly effortless grace. Drusilla, on the other hand—well the vampire had her own grace; Darla could not deny that. She moved—no, she danced—with an unearthly beauty, as if to music only she could hear. But Drusilla’s grace was not the grace of a sane person.
Drusilla was neither sane, nor—strictly speaking—a person. So it worked out, Darla supposed.
Drusilla jetéd into the room, causing Lilah to look up from the document in front of her. The look on her face upon seeing the two vampires was not one of unparalleled delight. “Anche tu, Palestra, ballerai?—si, per piacere. You too, Ursula,” Dru whispered.
Lilah stood. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, looking to Darla.
It was Drusilla who answered, however. “We’re worried you’re not taking us seriously,” she said, sitting down on Lilah’s desk. “You’ve let the weasel hide in the mulberry bush when you could have called out the foxes.”
Great, Dru. Talking crazy would be sure to make Lilah take the two of them more seriously.
“We have other clients with their own needs,” Lilah answered her matter-of-factly. “We can’t afford to—”
Quick as lightning, Dru was in vampface and her hand was closed around Lilah’s neck. “That’s where you’re wrong. You have two clients you have to worry about. You keep us happy, you’ll be happy. If not”—Dru released her grip on Lilah’s neck and slid her fingers up Lilah’s face, stopping just below her eyes—“well, there are other things you just have two of. And you don’t need both of them.”
“I’m going to go get something to drink, love,” Drusilla whispered into her ear. “I shall return with a goodnight kiss.”
Dru slipped out, leaving Darla and Lilah alone in the office. Good, thought Darla. It’d make it easier to get done what needed to be done to not have her as a distraction.
Lilah walked out from behind the desk. “What is your game, Darla?” she asked, staring the vampire right in the eyes.
“My game?” Darla echoed, meeting the lawyer’s gaze. “I can afford to play games, Lilah; after all, I am immortal. But this is not a game to you; you lose, you lose everything. So think about it and tell me if you really want to play with me.”
Lilah didn’t flinch. “I’m well aware of the stakes. I just don’t intend to lose. Now why don’t you tell me what you want, Darla, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“I want Angel dead.”
Lilah just stared at her for a long moment, no reaction on her face. “It can’t be done,” she said at last. “Believe me, I’d live to see him dust in the wind, but the Senior Partners won’t stand for it. They have their plans and—”
“The Senior Partners are not in this room," Darla pointed out. "They cannot kill you just by walking a few feet."
“My contract is to the Partners,” Lilah insisted. “I signed my soul—”
“They can have your precious soul,” Darla said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want it anyway. But your personality, your memories, and most of all your body—well, they’ll be ours.”
Lilah blanched. “You wouldn’t.”
Drusilla laughed as she re-entered. “Oh, but we would. Clockwork man with a raven in the bell jar.” Behind her she drug a young woman, Drusilla’s right hand clamped over the girl’s mouth. “I promised you a gift, didn’t I?” she said to Darla.
The woman Drusilla held was kicking, trying to break free, and muffled cries could be heard escaping from behind Dru’s hand. “That’s Liz, one of the interns,” Lilah said. “She’s a junior at UCLA. Has a bright future.” Dru threw the girl up onto Lilah’s desk, and Lilah leant down to whisper in the girl’s ear. “Don’t panic and stay still, and everything will be okay,” she said, reassuringly.
Darla wondered if the lawyer was even lying; after all, Lilah hadn’t specified for whom everything would be okay.
“A bright future,” Dru mused. “Bright indeed. Burning, burning, o’er the bounding main, where many a stormy wind shall blow ere you come home again, my dear. Or is it a metaphysical antipathy?”
The girl looked to Lilah in confusion. It wasn’t that Darla or Lilah understood Drusilla any better than the young intern had, of course; it was just that they had grown used to not comprehending the mad vampire’s musings. Lilah’s face remained perfectly impassive.
Drusilla placed an index finger on the intern’s nose. “Button, button, who’s got the button?” she asked as she traced the finger alongside the girl’s cheek and down her neck until her hand hover right above the girl’s breast. Then holding down the torso so as to pin the girl to the desk, Drusilla used her other hand to flip up the girl’s skirts, revealing a pair of lacy pink panties. “With joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, please, Grandmother?” she asked while gesturing with her head towards the mini-bar in the corner of Lilah’s office.
Divining Dru’s meaning, Darla went immediately to the minibar and returned with two champagne flutes. Using her nails (however did she keep them so razor sharp?), Drusilla sliced into the girl’s inner thigh, letting the blood fall into the flute.
Darla filled the flutes with blood, then snapped the girl’s neck so that Dru wouldn’t be burdened with having to keep holding her down. “Shadow held together with water,” Dru said as she drank.
“Now that you’ve slaughtered your innocent, can we get back to business?” Lilah asked impatiently.
”Hush,” said Drusilla. “Grandmummy’s said all that she should have to say. You have your orders. Now we’ve slaughtered our innocent, yes, but it is time to bathe in her blood.” Her hands went behind her neck, untied her shirt and let it fall around her waist. Lilah’s gaze went immediately—albeit, Darla thought, reluctantly—to the pale flesh of Drusilla’s breasts, flesh that had not seen the sun in over a hundred years.
“Leave. Now,” Darla said, and Lilah hurried out of the room. Smiling, Darla wrapped Dru’s shirt around the vampire’s wrists, tying her hands together, then pressed Dru down onto the desk, ready to make love over the exanimate corpse of their prey.