Banner by slaycandy

Chapter 7

The ride to London had been uneventful. Spike was even in high spirits after an aborted robbery attempt. The three highwaymen picked the wrong night and the wrong carriage to accost. He chuckled to himself as he recalled their shocked expression, while leaning back in his seat, sated from the meal he’d had not an hour before. Maybe now, after a little spot of violence, he would remember what he was and wouldn’t be such a pansy ass git when it came to dealing with the Slayer.

There’d been a loud thud which he’d correctly assumed was his driver being knocked unconscious by one of the would be highwaymen. Then his coach had rolled to an abrupt halt miles from his destination. A evil smile had graced his lips; if anyone had been privy to it, they would had been wise to run far and fast in the other direction. As it was, he’d schooled his feature into what passed for bored indifference and stepped out of the carriage when directed to do so. 

He’d appeared properly subdued... for all of two seconds.

Or maybe it had been one. 

The robbers never knew what hit them. He’d been especially brutal, as if to reaffirm that he was still a fierce demon, and the emotions the Slayer had seemed to elicit in him were just a fluke. Their terrified cries told him that he had indeed been successful in that regard.

After he had finished his mini-torture session, he’d drained the three, dumping their bodies in a ditch beside the dirt road. He’d licked the stray drops of blood from his lips as his human guise slipped back into place, and he’d gone around the front of the coach to rouse the driver. They’d continued their journey into the city moments later as if nothing had happened.

The coach finally came to a stop inside the city proper, and Spike sat up as he felt the presence of vampires. They must have arrived at their destination. Swinging down from his coach without bothering to wait for the driver, he straightened his evening attire before glancing up at the gentleman’s club the coach had stopped before: Whitt’s. Spike rather liked the idea of hiding in plain sight; it was a lot different than the views of his grandsire, Angelus.

“Be back just before dawn,” he told the driver. Spike just prayed the lad had the good sense to go socialize with others of his kind and not become vamp food. The driver nodded and snapped the reins, getting the horses moving once again.

Spike climbed the steps to the club and the door opened just as he reached the threshold.

“Good evening, m’lord. This is a private…”

“I have an invitation,” he interrupted, his eyes flashing yellow momentarily.

The doorman’s eyes narrowed, assessing him, before widening in surprise. “Aurelius?”

Spike nodded but didn’t respond. The short, squat man hurried to apologize. “I wasn’t aware…”

“You won’t be for some time, mate. Mind if I come in?”

“Oh, yes, of course, of course. Forgive me, m’lord.” The man bowed while backing out of the way to allow Spike to enter. The door closed softly behind him, and he removed his cape and handed it and his cane to the doorman.

He sensed both human and demon alike within the club and he arched his scarred brow in silent query. “Ahh…”

“Jenkins, m’lord.”

“Ok… so, tell me Jenkins, why are humans in an Aurelian safe house?”

“Well, if you want to own a gentleman’s club, an elite gentleman’s club, you have to cater to the ton. And since a good portion of the ton is made up of humans, it makes sense to allow the upper crust of society membership.”

Spike nodded as if the man’s explanation made perfect sense. Why weren’t they still doing things like this when he’d come along? He watched as the doorman signaled discreetly to one of the minions mingling among the guests. The man gave a slight nod before finishing his conversation and walking over towards Spike and the doorman.

“Jenkins, what can I do for you?”

“You can show… I’m sorry, m’lord, I didn’t get your name.”

“William Thornton, the Earl of Arundel,” Spike supplied.

“Ah… yes, I had heard the earl had taken up residence again. So nice to finally put a face to the name,” the doorman replied. “Mr. Laitner, would you be so good as to show the earl around, introduce him to a few of our guests… see to it he’s made comfortable.”

“Be happy to.” Turning away from Jenkins, he smiled at the master vampire. “Lord Thornton, this way… if you please.”

Spike followed the minion as he led the way deeper into the club. All around him men of various ages – all impeccably dressed – sat in chairs reading or chatting with fellow members. Towards the back of the club were several card rooms full of tables where men won and lost huge sums of money on the turn of a card. Laitner bypassed both of those rooms, in turn heading towards the staircase that was roped off.

“High stakes gambling, very discreet,” he said by way of explanation. Spike nodded again and continued to follow. Apparently, he was being taken before the current master of the house. Assuming a bored expression at their obvious ploy, he bided his time until it was the right moment to get the introductions out of the way. Maybe then, he could get his house to scrounge up an elder woman to act as the Slayer’s chaperone.

“You’re lucky I’m in such an agreeable mood,” Spike announced as the minion finally stopped before the double doors at the end of the upstairs hallway. Their antiquated ways of doing things were quickly getting on his nerves, and his temper, never far from the surface began to show.

Grabbing the increasingly wary minion by the lapels of his jacket, he hauled him close and growled, “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Releasing the minion, Spike shoved him towards the door. He’d obviously made an impression because it took the fledge several tries before he finally managed to open it.

Standing to the side, Laitner allowed the master vampire to precede him into the room. Spike swaggered into the private chamber of the Aurelian line, instinctively knowing that he had several decades on the oldest vampire currently in the room.

“Alright, let’s make this quick, shall we?” he announced as he strode boldly in the room. “Who’s in charge here?”

Mr. Laitner rushed in front of Spike to introduce him to the rest of the group.

“Ah… this is Lord William Thornton, the Earl of Arundel, of the Aurelian line.”

“Aurelius line, you say? And, who is your Sire?”

~*~*~*~*~

Spike was on the verge of answering when he heard a commotion outside. He got a faint whiff of what was probably causing it, and began to swear. With the question left hanging in the air, he turned towards the door and the unwelcome visitor making such a commotion on the other side.

“Fancy meeting you here, mate,” Spike commented to the figure held between two minions. He was still pissed about Doyle running off with his duster and smokes to let the half-demon off the hook so easily.

“Yeah, well, the Powers neglected to tell me some things that I needed to pass on to you, so guess who gets to rush back to the rescue?”

A reluctant smile flitted across the vampire’s lips at his disgruntled tone. He couldn’t blame the half-demon; Spike didn’t want to be here any more than Doyle did. The two minions, seeing that the demon was an acquaintance of the master vampire, quickly released him from their hold.

“So, what’s so ‘all important’ that you had to come rushing back here?”

“Well, you’ve…” he glanced around at his audience then turned back to the platinum-haired vampire. Silently, he conveyed his need for privacy.

“Why don’t we see about getting us a drink?”

“Good idea.” Doyle replied.

“You’ll excuse us for just a moment?” Spike posed the rhetorical question to the minion. “I’ll be back after I see that my friend is settled comfortably downstairs.”

Mr. Laitner nodded and stepped back to let the two leave. When they were gone from sight, he walked over to the vamp sitting down at the table. The elder vampire wasn’t happy... clearly. But, it wasn’t their place to refuse a master vampire anything. Finally, he shrugged at the other’s silent enquiry.

“If he wasn’t who he says he was and dared to claim lineage to the Aurelian line, he would have to know he’d be staked on sight.”

The elder vampire nodded at this and returned to his task while awaiting the return of the master vampire calling himself Lord Thornton.

~*~*~*~*~

“Tell me why you’re here again,” Spike demanded sarcastically.

“You have to be careful about discussing your family tree. All anyone here needs to know is that you were sired by Angelus. Don’t, under any circumstances, mention Drusilla.” Doyle could see the emotion churning in the vampire and rushed to explain. “It has to do with the timeline, Spike. Drusilla isn’t due to be sired until 1860. If you mention her now, there’s a good chance that won’t come about. You can mention Angelus, because he’s already been turned. And according to my calculations, Angelus is still in Rome after that little altercation with Holtz. He and Darla will stay in Italy awhile before moving on to other countries in Europe and won’t make it back to England till about 1850, or so – give or take a few years.”

“Let’s just bloody well hope I’ll be long gone by then and back in my real time,” Spike huffed. The way Doyle had made it sound, he’d be spending a lot of time in the past, which was not doing anything to improve his rapidly deteriorating mood.

“Oh, and don’t worry about the fact that the earl’s only been gone about ten years, yet you’ve reached master vampire status. The PTB’s have worked out that little glitch. As far as humans are concerned, you’re the earl come back after ten years abroad building your fortune. Vampire’s will just sense your advanced age, but will not be able to reconcile the discrepancies in the timeline.”

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Hey. They were thinking on their feet. It wasn’t like they’d planned for this, ya know.”

“Uh huh.”

Finishing his drink in one quick swallow, Spike told Doyle to wait downstairs for him, imparting that he was lucky he wasn’t dead after trying to break into the inner sanctum of the Aurelius safe house. Grinning at the half-breed’s suddenly pale face, Spike headed towards the stairs to conclude the interview with the house’s family members.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Spike returned to the room upstairs and announced without preamble, “Angelus, sired by Darla, sired by the Master. Now… any more stupid questions, or can I get some assistance here?”

As soon as the word “Master” had left Spike’s lips, all the vampires had stopped what they were doing to openly stare at him.

‘That’s bloody more like it!’

“What is it that you need?” the most senior vampire stammered out.

“I need a chaperone. I’ve a lady, a human, staying with me at my country estate, and I need an older woman present to act as a companion and chaperone.”

The other vampires looked at one another before replying in unison, “Mrs. Rothworth!”

“She human or vampire?”

“Vampire. But she’s the person we call upon in situations like this.”

“’Jus so’s you know, this lady, she’s mine. No harm will come to her.”

“You claimed a human?” Mr. Laitner whispered in awe.

“Yeah? What of it, mate?” Spike pinned the minion with a glacial stare.

“It’s just, I’ve… uh… never heard of a vampire claiming a human before… I didn’t mean to offend.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Right. How soon can word be gotten to this Mrs. Rothworth? I’d like to conclude my business here in London and be back on the road to my country residence by nightfall tomorrow.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. She maintains a townhouse here in London; we’ll send a runner over there straightaway.”

“Good. I’ll wait for word downstairs.” Spike turned and walked out of the room leaving behind several vampires still in shock, first because even though they’d been able to sense his age, the master vampire was only three generations removed from the Master and second, because he had seen fit to claim a human – something that was rarely done by vampires anymore. It was much easier just to turn a human, rather than claim one.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike stomped back downstairs and crossed the room to where Doyle sat waiting for him. He got the attention of one of the waiters hovering about the room and held up two fingers. When the waiter returned with his brandy, Spike made sure to tell the man not to let his glass go empty.

Plopping into a chair beside the half-breed he whined, “Tell me you brought my bloody smokes.” 

He practically drooled as Doyle searched his pockets and came up with a mangled pack of Marlboro’s and a matchbook.

“Just don’t let the others get too close a look at ‘em,” Doyle reminded him as he handed them over.

Spike glanced around the room and couldn’t help but notice how everyone gave him a wide berth. Apparently, his expression didn’t invite conversation. For some perverse reason, this pleased the vampire greatly.

“So, anything else I need to know about? Some other thing that I might inadvertently do to bollocks the time continuum or whatever you want to call it?” he asked snarkily.

‘How did I get picked for this again?’ Doyle asked himself. ‘Nothing like dealing with a pissed off vampire, and fucking William the Bloody on top of it…’

He let the thought go and opened his mouth to speak.

“Look on the bright side, Spike. You’ve got the Slayer, a place in society, your family… well sorta, anyway. What more could you want?”

“My dark princess,” he muttered into his cup. But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t entirely true. Instead of blue-grey eyes and dark brown hair, it was hazel eyes that seemed to haunt him.

Shaking himself to clear the vision of the Slayer dancing before him, Spike stood up and moved off towards one of the gaming rooms. May as well play a few hands of whist while he waited for arrangements to be made. Doyle got up and followed after the vampire; he had some time to kill before the Powers called him back.

Besides, he still had yet to give the vampire the news that he was going to be stuck in the past for a while. Something he was in no hurry to do.

Better to wait until it was almost time to leave, then beat a hasty retreat before Spike could retaliate.

~*~*~*~*~

It was about an hour before dawn when Spike got word that arrangements had been made for Mrs. Rothworth to drive out tomorrow evening and act as the Slayer’s chaperone. He collected his winnings as he stood, bidding a good night to the gentlemen around him.

Word had spread like wildfire that the Earl of Arundel was back in London, and several gentlemen had come by to introduce themselves. He was sure that he’d have several invitations to various ton functions waiting at the townhouse he apparently kept in London.

Feeling the itch of dawn approaching and not wanting to be stuck in the club for the day, Spike motioned to Doyle that it was time to leave. The half-breed started towards the door, eager to conclude his latest errand and hightail it back to the present. He figured he could tell the vampire just as the sun was cresting over the horizon, preventing Spike from chasing after him and committing bodily harm. Although, he was sure the Powers would step in at some point. But still. Better to not tempt the fates like that.

Spike was pleased to see his driver perched on the coach seat waiting for him. The servant, upon seeing his master, quickly hopped down from his seat and opened the carriage door with a grand flourish. He rolled his eyes at the driver’s exuberance and climbed inside, Doyle following behind. A moment later, the man was resettled on top and the horses were trotting off in the direction of his townhouse.

“You plannin’ on spending the day?” Spike asked.

“Uh… no… just wanted to make sure you were all settled in here… and to see that you had no problems with your identity. I’ll be taking off once you’re back at your townhouse.”

Spike didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the backrest, willing the driver to take a whip to the horses and hurry them along. He hated cutting it so close to sunrise. His demon seemed ready to claw its way out of his skin to find shelter.

Ten minutes later, the carriage stopped, presumably in front of his residence. The coach wobbled from side to side as the driver got down from his seat and opened the door. Spike climbed down and stared at the townhouse before him.

‘I really could get used to this,’ Spike thought, eyeing the posh exterior of the building. Though weary beyond belief, he hurried up the walk to the front door – which opened before he managed to reach it. A bleary-eyed butler greeted him as he crossed the threshold.

“Good morning, m’lord.”

Spike grunted a response as he stepped into the foyer, too tired to bother figuring out his name. Doyle trailed in after him.

“You change your mind, Doyle?” the vampire asked upon spying the half-breed lingering on his threshold.

“Uh… no. Actually…” Doyle turned around and glanced outside. Grateful to see the sun peeking over the horizon, he slowly backed up down the walk, ignoring the butler who held the door open for him.

Spike quirked his brow and waited. He didn’t bother to follow, seeing the sunlight now slowly creeping its way towards his front step.

“There’s just one more thing I’ve gotta tell you before I go.”

“Yeah?”

Doyle knew the speed of vampires and didn’t speak again until he was safely standing in sunlight. Aware of their exceptional hearing, he turned and started walking away, then tossed over his shoulder just as he reached the street, “You’re gonna be stuck here for some time yet, so… get used to it.”

With that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving behind a cursing vampire, who had no means to retaliate against him.

next

Want to leave a REVIEW?