The light from the lamp was blinding in the darkness of the sickroom, hurting his eyes.

  “Too bright” a high-pitched, childish voice complained.

  “I know little one. We just need to get these bedclothes changed, alright?” His mother’s voice was rough, as though she’d been crying, even though her tone was soothing. He felt his father’s strong arms scoop him up from the sweat-stained sheets. He looked around the nursery fretfully. Where was Davy?

  Seeing his distress, his mother looked over at his father. “Should we tell her yet?” His father nodded, his voice breaking as he continued, “Your brother, God rest his soul, is no longer with us. The fever… it was too much. He’s gone, lovey.” His father was crying. His father never cried.

  “Gone? Gone where? Is he coming back?” he wondered aloud, confused. It didn’t make sense. Nothing did, except that his head ached something fierce and his throat felt all scratchy.

  “He’s gone to be with the angels, love.” His mother interjected, bringing a handkerchief to her eyes.

  “Like Nurse?” He asked, still slightly confused.

  “Yes, love.” His father replied, laying him back on the clean sheets as his mother pulled fresh clothes from the clothespress in the corner, ordering him to lift his arms so she could slip his soiled things over his head, and washing him down with a wonderfully cool rag before helping him into a new gown.

  His father had left the room briefly while he was having his bath; he returned carrying some sort of amulet on a thin cord. “It’ll be ok. You’ll start school next fall and make friends. Things will be different now. Things are going to change for you, and it might feel confusing for a while. That’s to be expected. But you’ll be able to live as you want from here on out too, David. This will keep you safe.” He slipped the thin cord over David’s head, the amulet dangling down.

  “David? But...”

  ****

  The world began to slide out from under him again. Childhood memories of the dead continued to flood his consciousness. He struggled to push himself up, suddenly realizing again that he wasn’t alone. Was Spike here for these memories as well?

  ****

  The boy slipped down the stairs in the darkness, feeling his way down the steps carefully in the dim glow emanating from the parlor. It didn’t seem real that his brother was laying down there, cold and still. He reached the parlor door and pushed it open quietly, relieved when the hinges didn’t squeak and give away his presence. The big mirror over the fireplace was covered in black fabric, and he could see the shrouded figure in the box laid out at the front of the parlor. He crept forward, slowly, some tiny desperate part of him still hoping that this was all a grand prank, that Davy would pop up like a jack-in-the-box and grab him with a laugh.

  As he made it to the front of the parlor and peeped into the coffin, he gasped. He knew it was his brother because his parents had told him so, but it felt like he was looking at himself. The body was wearing a dress and one of his old hair ribbons, with Davy’s hair carefully set in ringlet curls. The face was drawn and pinched looking, with eyes sunken slightly, and a faint unpleasant odor hung in the air. He poked the body tentatively – it was cold and stiff to the touch. He didn’t care what his parents said; that wasn’t his brother in there. It was some sort of doll, or mannequin – a wax figure maybe? The skin certainly looked waxy enough – it was a strange greyish yellow shade, not Davy’s ruddy-cheeked complexion at all. The boy heard a noise in the kitchen and scampered for the stairs, fleeing back to his bed before Cook or John the butler could catch him misbehaving.

  ****

  He knelt at the top of the stairs in his new black suit, looking down through the railing at the people milling about. The suit was itchy and uncomfortable, and chafed terribly, but boys wore suits, not dresses, and his parents had made the decision to put him in breeches a few months early to save the expense of ordering two mourning wardrobes. He carefully crept forward, listening to the hushed whispers of condolences for “poor Elizabeth.” He shook his head. It was like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. He wanted to cry out and scream that they were wrong. His brother would be ok. He would wake up! But he also knew that if he spoke up and made his presence known, they would hurry him back to the nursery and he didn’t want to upset his parents further.

  “David,” said an older male voice. It was his Uncle George. “You’re not meant to be here lad.” The child squirmed under the older man’s gaze.

  “Had to see,” he squeaked, looking forlorn. George nodded. He understood the lad was curious, just like his own son who was David’s age.

  “Sorry that you lost your sister my boy. Elizabeth was a sweet girl.” The boy just stared at his uncle, unsure what to say and nodded. Tears began filling his eyes. It was all so confusing. How was he supposed to go on? His brother was gone, and now he was going by David’s name. At least, as his father said, he could be himself now and stay safe. That’s what his father had emphasized. Staying safe. He unconsciously laid his hand to his chest, where the amulet hung under his clothes. “I’ll bring your cousin by soon. Let you two boys play some, alright?” The child nodded numbly. It was all too much. He just wanted his brother back. And he didn’t trust his uncle. He’d been in the vision of them taking him away from his family. The memory of the vision flashed in his mind again and he ran back down the hall to the nursery as fast as his small legs could carry him, accidentally slamming his door.

  He threw himself on the bed and let his tears flow.

  *****

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  David came to still standing in the show room. He looked around but found he was alone. As the panic started to grip him, he moved in the direction he’d seen Spike and Angel walking. Spike was slowly walking into a room where he could hear Angel and another man, the necromancer presumably, speaking. David stood just within hearing distance. He wasn’t particularly interested in meeting any necromancers today; though he wasn’t sure whether or not he could be manipulated in his present form, he wasn’t too keen on finding out.

  “Gunn, do it,” he heard Angel say followed by the click of a cell phone closing.

  “And what was that,” the necromancer scoffed. “Just call in an air strike?”

  “I just froze all your bank accounts, terminated your paper assets, and turned your books over to a very motivated contact we have at the IRS. Five minutes from now you’ll have nothing but this house. Ten minutes from now, that’ll go into foreclosure.” David nodded to himself. I suppose that’s one way to take down evil, he mused to himself.

  “You can’t do that,” the necromancer responded.

  “I’ll let myself out,” Angel said smugly.

  “It’s not legal. You think you can get away with that,” the necromancer chuckled dryly. “I’ll sue you to hell.”

  “Good luck,” responded Angel. “We’re your lawyers.” Angel walked confidently out of the room he’d been standing in, and Spike was on his heels.

  “This isn’t over vampire,” the necromancer said menacingly.

  “That’s how your gonna fight the forces of evil now. Call the IRS?” Spike asked.

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “Hello, IRS,” Spike mocked holding an imaginary phone up to his ear. “Could you fight my battles for me. And while you’re at it, could you wipe my wide spot here…” Suddenly Spike disappeared.

  “Oh thank god,” Angel said relieved and continued out the door.

  “Hey, where you going mate?” David continued after Angel. He wasn’t sure where Spike had vanished to, but so far the bloke had been quick to come back and he didn’t fancy walking all the way back to the law firm on foot if Angel left.

  “What does it look like I’m doing. I’m leaving.”

  “But Spike ought to be right back. Just popped out for a moment.”

  “Good riddance.”

  “Can’t we wait just a few minutes for him.”

  “No.”

  “Bloody hell.” David stopped at the door as Angel continued to his car. He knew he wouldn’t make it very far if he did try to follow, and he could tell that Angel wasn’t going to listen to him pleading. “Thanks for nothing grandpa!” Angel climbed in his car and slammed the door. Dust kicked up as the tires spun out a little in his rush to leave the grounds and get back to Wolfram and Hart. David hurried back into the mansion, hoping to figure out where Spike has disappeared to. He’d vanished only once before, but maybe this time the necromancer had something to do with it. David retraced his footsteps.

  As he approached the room Angel and Spike had come out of earlier, he was relieved to hear Spike’s voice.

  “Yeah, what’s it to you.”

  “I can give you back what’s been taken from you. Freedom. Power of choice. I can put your destiny back in your own flesh and bone hands,” the necromancer spoke confidently. David wondered how often he’d practiced those lines. “That’s right, a corporeal body. I can make that happen. But to do that, I need you to do something for me. Something that might require …”

  “Hurt Angel? That it? You want me to hurt Angel?” Spike sounded excited. David rolled his eyes. “You’ve come to the right ghost.” The necromancer continued to lay out his proposition for Spike, to trick Angel and take over his body. Spike would have a body again, though not his own. He would be the king of his own castle, with access to all the perks and benefits that came with it, so long as he restored the necromancer’s steady flow of bodies. David stayed in the hallway, unsure of how serious Spike actually was about taking the deal. Sure he hated Angel, but to take over his body and basically kill the bloke? He didn’t think the vampire had it in him even without a soul. It was still Angel.

  Spike came out of the room and face to face with David and scoffed.

  “You’re still here?”

  “Ride left.”

  “Figures,” Spike shook his head. They fell in step walking through the door together.

  “So you think you’re actually gonna take the deal?”

  “So what you’ll just eavesdrop on any conversation now?” David just stared at Spike waiting for an answer to his question. “It’s certainly tempting. Captain Forehead doesn’t deserve all those riches he’s got. I mean who does he think he is? King of a bloody castle? Cars, money, power. It’s not soddin’ right.” David nodded, and waited for him to continue. “It shoulda been me, ya know? Saving the world and all. But no. Burned to a crisp then turned into bloody ghost. Can’t touch. Can’t taste. Can’t smell. Can’t do a bloody thing but talk and observe. I don’t want to live like this. It’s no life at all!”

  “It’s tough. No doubt about it,” David agreed. “Not that I want to stick around as a bloody ghost any longer, but it’s not so bad. At least people can see you. You can talk to them. Interact with them. Have some kind of agency in the world.”

  “Agency?” Spike scoffed. “I don’t want bloody agency. I want a body. I want to be able to do things!”

  “You can annoy Angel. That’s something.” David offered. Spike wasn’t amused. “Seriously. It’s not that bad. I mean what’s the alternative?”

  “The alternative is I take that deal with the necromancer,” Spike admitted.

  “Come on. You can’t possibly trust the bloke!”

  “I most certainly do not. Just saying, is all. Really don’t have any other options now do I?”

  “You seriously think that he isn’t going to turn around and keep trying to get more and more out of you if you take his deal? It’s a devil’s bargain.”

  “Don’t I know it! I don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him, which isn’t far. He was pretty round,” Spike admitted and David chuckled.

  “I didn’t actually see. Didn’t think he needed to know there were two ghosts, or whatever we are, there. Heard enough though. Heard you making plans with him.”

  “And what are you gonna do about it?”

  “Back you up,” David said, surprising Spike. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the crazy bloke going along with the plan he and Hainsley had laid out wasn’t it. “You got something up your sleeve. I know you say you hate Angel and all, and got good reason near as I can figure anyway. But, you’re all soul-havin’. Killing him like that. Wouldn’t be right, would it?”

  Spike studied David as they walked. How much did the bloke actually know about him? Suddenly David smirked at Spike. “You’ve got a plan, don’t you?”

  “What? What makes you say that?”

  “’Cause you’ve got that look in your eye.”

  “What look. I don’t have a look. Just drop it, ok?”

  “Fine. Fine. Have it your way,” David put his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “Nice night, isn’t it? Too bad you can’t see the stars through all this light pollution. I miss them, ya know? Trying to find the constellations. Used to make them up when I was a lad, ‘fore my da taught them to me. Then I taught my best mate. Sometimes we even renamed the stars together,” he started rambling. “You ever learn the constellations?”

  “Look mate. Just because we’re walking together doesn’t mean we have to have a conversation.”

  “Right,” David wasn’t able to hide his disappointment. “’S ok. We can walk in silence. That’s fine too.” His throat tightened despite himself and he swallowed hard trying to clear the feeling away. He busied himself instead, naming the stars in his own mind and imagining the chaos when he gave them all the same name. Then he chuckled to himself remembering when he’d played that game with his old traveling companion. Spike shook his head but didn’t ask why David was laughing. David sighed. What did you expect mate? William? Not gonna happen, he reminded himself.