Banner by Vampkiss
Banner by Vampkiss
Chapter 41
It took everything in him to stay home when he felt her.
Pain.
His Slayer was in pain and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it at the
moment.
He wanted to leave. To rush out of his house and find her. Kill whatever it was
that had dared to hurt her. To take her in his arms and ease the ache that had
seemed to settle over her heart.
But he stayed where he was and waited for her to come to him.
And, he knew she would. Was no doubt on her way home right this very moment.
Which was why he wouldn’t leave.
He didn’t want to chance missing her.
~*~*~*~*~
Marcus was nervous.
As the heir to the Duke of Rutherford, his place in life was secure. His title
commanded the respect - and fear - of the Ton. His entrance into whatever
function polite society decided to hold, guaranteed. But, as a fledge, barely a
decade in years?
Not so much the sure thing.
He’d barely been introduced to Lady Thornton’s husband, the current Marquess of
Chadsworth, even though both men shared common friends in the Marquess of
Darderwyne and Eaglethorpe, and the Earl of Hawkingstone - barely remembered the
mock fight he had with him at the
Marquess of
Darderwyne's home several years ago. All three had had nothing but good
things to say about the master vampire, all enjoying the Marquess’ quick wit and
business acumen…and his skill on the hunt.
Which, truth be told, really didn’t tell him much.
Like, how the master vampire was going to react upon him returning his wife to
his side… upset and near tears.
Then it was too late. The carriage had screeched to a halt outside the vampire’s
home, leaving Marcus no choice but to open the door and hurry Buffy inside.
He was drenched almost immediately, the rain having kicked up on their drive in,
almost like it sensed the emotions of the woman he was assisting and had
unleashed its fury to complement her pain. Marcus shrugged out of his coat,
holding it over the Marchioness’ head in an attempt to spare her the brunt of
the storm. When she was on the ground, he quickly shut the carriage door and
shouted at his driver to see his sister home with all possible haste. He wasn’t
sure when he’d be able to follow.
As he attempted to hurry his new friend up the walk, the front door opened, and
he caught sight of the master vampire.
To say that his demon cringed in fear would be a gross understatement.
~*~*~*~*~
Spike had taken to pacing the foyer in the moments before the Slayer arrived,
having displaced his man from his duties, so that when the carriage outside
rolled to a stop, he was right there to greet her.
His eyes made note of the Ducal crest, the dark-haired vampire that stepped down
and assisted the Slayer, and he filed that bit of information away to look at
later.
Right now, nothing else mattered but Buffy.
The little girl lost look she’d been sporting seemed to dissipate as she neared
the door. As if sensing his presence, she lifted her head and took note of him
standing in the doorway. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, breaking
into a run and away from the protective covering the vampire’s coat had
provided. Her tears mingling with the rain as she threw herself at him.
She was sobbing uncontrollably now. Whatever it was that had been hurting her
finally overtaking her as she was swept up in the comforting embrace of her
husband. Barely a moment later, he’d picked her up, carrying her close to his
chest as he strode off towards his study.
“Follow me,” he barked out to the vampire.
~*~*~*~*~
Meekness wasn’t in his character, but the harsh command couldn’t be denied. He
closed the front door and set out after the master vampire.
He was not looking forward to this confrontation at all.
As his booted feet rang out on the floor, Marcus took note of the lack of
servants milling about.
‘No doubt scared off by the Marquess’ behavior.’
Still, looking at the two, how he held his wife close like he could take away
her pain…it was easy to see that he cared for the girl. Perhaps even loved her.
Which made him release an unnecessary breath.
If the vampire was in love with his wife, then there was a chance he was angry
on her behalf, and not at him. And, that he might actually listen to his
story versus attacking him out of hand with a stake.
Marcus saw the room he was being led towards and noticed that the door was shut.
In a few quick strides, he was ahead of the pair and opening the door. The
vampire barely paid him any notice, his attention solely on the petite woman
held in his arms. He watched avidly as the Marquess settled himself in one of
the chairs before the fire and held Buffy while she cried. The master vampire
didn’t say anything, but when the soothing rumbling started emanating from his
chest, Marcus felt like an interloper.
It was a private thing, that. Something usually reserved during an intimate
moment between mated vampires. Not knowing what to do, Marcus crossed to the
extensive bar along the wall of the study and poured himself a stiff drink. He
knocked the shot back quickly and then poured another. This he sipped slowly as
he waited for Buffy’s tears to lessen.
The room was silent save for the light rumbling noise of the master vampire and
the tears of the human he held. When they finally lessened, Marcus finished off
his second drink then poured one in a fresh glass for her.
Spike took the outstretched glass, flashing a grateful look to the vampire.
“Here, luv, drink this,” he told her softly.
Buffy took it automatically, drinking the contents down quickly, in too much
shock to protest that she wasn‘t thirsty. The fiery path of the liquor burned a
trail down her throat, and she coughed a bit. The warmth that seemed to pool in
her stomach was a welcome respite from the cold that had encased her heart upon
hearing of her former chaperone’s dusting.
Just the thought brought a fresh wave of tears. Already limp with her crying
fit, she didn’t think she could handle being rung dry with another sobfest. She
curled into Spike once more as the tears began to fall anew.
Spike couldn’t take it. Her tears were affecting him worse than any torture Dru
- or Angelus, for that matter - had ever devised.
His lips found his mark, nuzzling at the flesh to get her to still - which she
did. Almost immediately.
“Spike,” she mumbled softly, completely forgetting about their audience. Her
eyes grew heavy, and eventually she slept, lulled by the vampire‘s actions.
Spike held her for a few minutes more before reluctantly rising to his feet to
place her on a nearby chaise. He didn’t stop to question his desire to keep her
close. She was his; it was his demon’s instinct to see to the care of all that
belonged to him. The Slayer was hurting, and it was his job to make it right, to
ease the ache that even in sleep, he could still feel. He covered her with a
throw then turned and pinned the other vampire with a glacier stare.
“What the hell happened?”
~*~*~*~*~
Marcus barely managed to suppress his demon’s instinct to visibly cower before
the barely leashed rage in the master vampire’s stance. Just barely. As it was,
he stumbled over his explanation like some child called on the carpet.
“It’s her chaperone, Mrs. Rothworth. I happened upon her carriage on my way out
of town for the afternoon to see to business. I…she was dust. Set upon by
robbers and seemingly drug from her carriage before the sun was masked by the
rain.”
“And the thieves?” Spike growled.
“Run off. No doubt having trouble believing what they saw. Although, the money
they stole will be burning a hole in their pockets before long. I’m sure come
nightfall they’ll crawl out from whatever hole they’ve hidden in to drink
themselves into a stupor and share their tale,” Marcus replied.
“We’ll have to find them before that happens.”
“I’ve already seen to it. I’ve got my men in every bar along the waterfront.”
“Good.”
The two lapsed into silence for a moment, both looking forward to the evening
but for entirely different reasons. One wanted revenge for the killing of one of
their own. The other just wanted revenge against those that had dared to hurt
his Slayer.
“…had business to attend?” Spike questioned after a time.
“What? I’m sorry?” Marcus tore his gaze from the sleeping human to see the angry
amber of the master vampire staring at him. “’M sorry. I meant no disrespect.
I…It’s strange. I…worry about her. That‘s never happened to me before.”
Spike didn’t say anything to the vampire’s confession, but his look lost that
harsh edge. Instead, he sat back in his chair behind his desk and regarded the
dark-haired Marquess.
“Anyway…I was on my way to see the Duke of Abberly. Vamp’s a whiz with money,
much like yourself, and he wanted to show me something.”
“Did he say what?”
“No. Only that it involved a few of the clan Aurelius. Said he saw a pattern and
wanted my opinion before bringing the matter to you.”
‘Bloody hell.’
“I’ll send round a note for him to see me directly. I believe I know what it was
he wanted to share.” At the younger vamp’s questioning look, Spike added, “I’ll
tell you later. I‘ve a few things to see to first.”
Spike jotted off a quick note on paper reserved for clan communications. Folding
it over, he stuck it in an envelope and affixed his seal. His butler, Higgins,
seemed to materialize out of thin air to take the missive, nodding at his
master’s instructions to see it delivered post haste to the Duke of Abberly.
The servant left as quietly as he’d entered and passed off the communiqué to
Travis, since the butler’s duties required him to stay close at hand.
Higgins returned not ten minutes later.
“Excuse me, m’lord. I’ve a man in the kitchens claiming to be the Marquess’
man.”
“Send him in.”
“Very good, sir.”
The man bowed out of the room and was back a moment later with another in tow.
Tall and lanky, his unkempt hair hid half his facial features. His clothes
smelled like they’d not been changed in over a month.
“M’lords…” He gave both a stiff bow, both his manner and the cultured tones of
his voice revealing that the man was in disguise. “They’ve been found.”
“Where?” This from Spike.
“At a place called The Watering Hole,” the servant replied.
“Who’s there now?” Marcus asked his man.
“Your driver, Jimmy, and his nephew. They’d just bought the four men a round of
drinks when I left to rush here.”
“Good. That’ll give us plenty of time.”
Spike was already rising to his feet and making his way towards the door.
“Should we inform the others?” Marcus asked, two steps behind.
“No.”
Marcus grinned. More fun for them.
“Good work, Lawrence. We’ll take it from here.”
“Very good, m’lord. I’ll await you at home.”
As the two vampires strode out the front door and into the night, the servant
left by the way he’d come.