Banner by Vampkiss

Chapter 42

Spike and Marcus paused outside The Watering Hole, listening intently as the sound of raucous laughter drifted back to them. The two shared a look, each of the same mind. Soon it would be them laughing as their demons exacted retribution on those that had killed one of their own.

They were definitely overdressed for this crowd, but it shouldn’t matter. Noblemen – usually lesser sons – often went slumming, as if to prove to themselves and others that they didn’t need their fathers’ titles to see them through. A bit of drunken revelry overlooked by the more territorial commoners. And, if not, a little fisticuffs would usually settle the matter.

Thus, the two vampires brazenly pushed through the swinging doors, eyes taking a quick sweep of the room before dismissing its occupants out of hand. Noticing a vacant table near the back, Spike took the lead and wended his way through the tables, Marcus following behind.

They’d barely seated themselves before a barmaid arrived. Her frizzy red hair hid much of her face, the brown non-descript dress hung off her frame like the garment had belonged to another. Spike stared at the girl. She couldn’t have been much older than the Slayer. Was probably younger in fact. But, the eyes seemed wise beyond their years – no doubt witness to atrocities one such as herself should not have been made to see. She flinched under his stare, but found her voice and asked them for their order.

Both stared up at her in shock as the soft, melodious tone drifted down to them, the tavern’s noises in no way hiding the cultured tone.

“Pitcher of ale. The good stuff, not the watered down swill the barkeep serves the others,” Spike told her.

Angelina attempted a half curtsy and hurried away, and Spike found himself staring after the girl’s back as she moved between tables, her body barely flinching when she was groped by several of the patrons in her path.

“What is it?” Marcus asked confused, worried that he’d missed something about the female.

The elder vamp turned back to his companion. “Nothing…” They drifted back to the girl. “Nothing…”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes…” He wasn’t looking at Marcus, his eyes still fixed on the girl.

Marcus turned in the direction of the other vampire’s gaze. “We could take her with us. She’s kinda on the slim side, so I doubt she’s got family. Probably one of Lulu’s girls.”

“Hmmm…”

Spike finally turned away from the girl and leaned back against the booth. His mind debating as to whether or not he’d take the girl. Why he was even contemplating it was anyone’s guess. But, he’d long since given up trying to understand this softening nature he’d been exhibiting lately. Yet, if it would take the Slayer’s mind off her sorrow…

“We’ll take her with us,” Spike decided. “My wife is going to need some project to occupy her time so she doesn’t dwell on Mrs. Rothworth’s death. Think the li’l maid there should keep her plenty busy.”

“It’ll be as you say.”

Marcus stood up and headed towards the bar. After a brief conversation with the owner, he plopped a few coins on the wet surface and gestured to the redheaded girl. The greedy man’s hands closed around the money, nodding vigorously, and Marcus barely managed to suppress a snort. If Lord Thornton hadn’t taken the girl out of there, he damn well would have. She reminded him in a way of his sister, though he was far from having sisterly thoughts.

“I just bought her services for the evening. When she brings us our drinks, she’s ours,” he told the master vampire as he slid back in his chair.

“Good.” His gaze flicked over the four men and the Marquess' two servants they were entertaining in the opposite corner. Even from where he sat, Spike could see that it was going to be a while yet before they’d be drunk enough to spill their secrets. Right now, their faces still bore that wide-eyed fear, as if they were still having trouble believing what they’d seen.

So, wait he would. If it was one thing he’d learned while being stuck in the past, it was patience.

The barmaid returned a moment later with their drinks, her eyes duller than before, having apparently been told of their buying her services for the evening.

“What’s your name, girl,” Spike asked as she set their glasses down on the table.

“Gina, m’lord,” she murmured, eyes downcast.

“He asked you for your name,” Marcus practically growled. He ignored the smirk from the other vampire, almost smiling in delight when she lifted her gaze to glare at him. ‘Good. Her spirit’s not been broken.’

“Your name,” he added when she was back to staring at him with her blank look.

“Angelina. Angelina St. James.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Figured.

“And tell me Angelina St. James…what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“A girl like me?”

“Yes.” Lightning quick, his hand closed around her wrist and dragged it in front of his face for inspection, flipping it forward and back for a thorough look.

“Delicate hands, even if they are a little worse for wear right now.” His dark eyes roamed over her body from head to toe, his nose crinkling in distaste. “Classically beautiful features, if you were able to see them for all that hair on your head. Slim body that god awful dress does nothing to enhance…”

Angelina ripped her hand out of his grasp, and something told her that if she’d not caught him unaware, she never would have been let go. Her eyes narrowed to near slits, a bit of the backbone she’d once possessed returning – before tragedy had struck her family, leaving her an orphan with no means of support, stripping away every last scrap of pride she’d had left. “You’ve bought my ‘services,’ m’lord, not my life’s history.”

Marcus tipped his head back and roared with laughter, causing a few of the patrons closer to their table to look over.

“Well said, Gina.” He sneered the mockery she’d made of her name. “But, I’m not the one that, as you say, ‘bought’ you. He did.” Marcus nodded with his head towards his companion, and he watched as her face paled.

Spike was having second thoughts of sending the girl to his home, now that he’d seen the other vampire’s interest. But, in the end, he decided against gifting the girl to Marcus. A little time to regain her strength – and her pride – would be in order before he’d let the vampire near her.

“Marcus, hail the girl a hack and see it delivers her to my home. Mrs. Cremshaw will know what to do with her. Make sure a bath is at the top of her list.”

At the girl’s gasp, he turned his gaze towards her, his look freezing her in place.

“I fully expect you to be there upon my return. It’s not your services I’ve bought so much as I’ve taken you out of this hellhole and given you a place to live. As such, I expect you to obey my wife in all things. Is that understood?”

Angelina stared down at the nobleman as if he were the answer to all her prayers. Tears came unbidden to her eyes. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this, but she’d not waste the opportunity. Quickly bobbing a curtsy, she left the table and moved towards the exit, grateful to be leaving this place behind for the last time. Though she was rather surprised that not one hand touched her on the way out the door, most of the tavern’s customers not usually slow to let an opportunity pass.

She didn’t see the look Marcus gave each and every male in the room. Trailing behind her like an avenging angel just waiting for the one that dared.

~*~*~*~*~

“It’s time,” Spike whispered a few hours later.

Marcus nodded and they both stood. His eyes locked with those of his men, giving the pair a signal.

As the two vampires exited the tavern, Jimmy gestured to his nephew. A natural-born storyteller, Michael convinced the four thieves to leave the bar with him, promising more drinks and plenty of women to see the night through. Jimmy mentally shook his head as he brought up the rear.

“Right around this corner, we’ll take a shortcut,” Michael told them.

Behind him, the four weaved drunkenly, practically stumbling over their boots at the mass quantities of alcohol they’d consumed affecting their coordination.

“Blimy, can’ see a bloody thing out ‘ere,” one complained.

“Ya sure this is the right way?” slurred another.

“Of course. Don’t tell me you guys can’t hold yer liquor,” Michael taunted.

“’ll ‘ave ya know I was swillin’ ale when you were still in nappies,” a third growled, taking a menacing step towards the youth.

“Good evening, m’lords,” Jimmy’s voice rang out.

“Wha? Who’s there?” the man that had snapped at the boy questioned. He swiveled around and squinted his eyes to see deeper into the alley that led behind the tavern and further into town. He nearly pissed his pants when the two figures drew near, their yellow eyes pinning him in place.

The four tried to escape, but were cut off by Jimmy and Michael, and Spike and Marcus made quick work of knocking them unconscious.

“I’ll be but a moment, m’lord,” Jimmy told his master. “I’ve the unmarked carriage around the way.”

He hurried off down the street, quickly thanking the driver of a fellow nobleman for keeping an eye on his property before settling himself atop the conveyance and cracking his whip to get the horses moving. Circling the block, he drew the team to a halt at the opposite end of the alley. As the vampires walked towards him, Jimmy climbed down and opened the secret compartment in the back of the carriage, allowing the men to be dumped inside. Tiny holes were drilled into the floorboard so that the humans wouldn’t die from lack of oxygen before they’d reached their destination.

Once all four men were secured, Spike and Marcus climbed inside while Jimmy and Michael returned to their perch on top. A whip sounded and the carriage started moving, Jimmy already knowing their destination.

~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the back entrance to Whitt’s. The doors seemed to open before they’d stopped and a small group of minions descended on the carriage and quickly carted the four humans inside and down several flights of stairs to the secret dungeons housed below.

Marcus stepped down and made to go inside. When he didn’t hear the elder vamp follow, he turned around with a question upon his face.

“Keep ‘em alive till I return. Let them wallow in their fear for a bit.”

He didn’t question the master vampire’s command, or why he wasn’t coming inside with him. Now that the four had been captured and were tucked inside the Aurelius stronghold, they’d ceased being a liability.

“Oh, and if either Lords Northcutt, Fielding, or Percival are inside, send them to me at once. Same goes for Alric Townsend.”

Marcus didn’t let his confusion show, just nodded.

“Have them bring you with them.”

The Marquess affected a slight bow in deference, then turned to his man and instructed him to see Lord Thornton home. As he slipped inside, he couldn’t help wondering what, exactly, the master vampire could want with the others. He shoved that thought aside and hurried down the stairs to see to the humans. His demon wanted blood in retribution, but he forced it down.

Later.

After instructing the minions, Marcus went upstairs, his gaze sweeping over the rooms before settling on the Marquess of Eaglethorpe and the Earl of Hawkingstone playing cards with a few other human nobles. He made eye contact with the two, gesturing with his head his need to speak privately. He watched as they made their excuses, rising to their feet and taking their stack of chips.

“What is it?” Joseph Maitland whispered as they drew near.

“Lord Thornton needs to speak with Byron right away. Do you know if Derrick, Clayton, or Alric are about?”

“Not that I’m aware,” the Marquess answered. “Come on, it must be important if William wants all of us,” he told Byron.

“But…he didn’t ask for you,” Marcus managed to stammer out.

“If it’s what I think it’s about, he’ll want me there. Now, let’s go,” he told the younger vamp.

The three left the club, all of them climbing into the Earl of Hawkingstone’s carriage to see them to the master vampire’s townhouse.

Knowing that the news of Mrs. Rothworth’s death had no doubt reached their ears, Marcus filled them in on the humans’ capture and Lord Thornton’s order to hold their execution.

“William probably wants to see what Buffy’s going to want to do,” Joseph commented in an aside to Byron.

Marcus didn’t respond, but his mind was racing. The familiarity they seemed to have with the Marchioness confused him. He felt like he was on the outside looking in right now – it not being a place he usually held. As one of the higher-ranking noblemen, he usually was aware of all the goings on within the clan, even though he was still just a fledge.

It rankled. But, he tamped down his irritation and forced himself to wait. Whatever it was, he was sure to hear about it in due time, especially given that the Marquess had wanted him to come along.

~*~*~*~*~

Upon entering his study, Spike was surprised to see the Slayer and another vampire sitting with their heads together at the small table. Papers were strewn haphazardly across the table covering every inch of space. The vampire, no doubt the infamous Duke of Abberly, held a piece of paper in his hand, pointing to some drawing he’d sketched.

They looked up as the study door closed behind him, Buffy jumping to her feet and rushing to his side. His arms closed around her as she threw herself against his chest.

“There you are! When I woke you were gone and I wasn’t sure…” She lifted her head and Spike could see traces of the pain she tried so hard to mask. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and changed the subject.

“Did Angelina find her way here all right?”

It did the trick, her heartache faded in place of her rage on the girl’s behalf.

“I should say so! Poor girl, forced to sell herself to provide a roof over her head. I’ve settled her in the guest room at the end of the hall.”

“The guest wing. Um, pet? You do realize…”

Buffy quirked her brow, daring him to finish that thought.

“Fine…do whatever you like. ‘s not like I have any say so in the matter anyway,” he grumbled. He released the Slayer and stepped back. “Going to introduce me to our guest, luv?”

“Oh, yes…” She blushed a becoming shade of red at her thoughtlessness. “Sorry about that.”

The two walked over to the table where the Duke stood waiting for an introduction.

“William, may I introduce, His Grace, the Duke of Abberly. Your Grace, my husband William, Marquess of Chadsworth.” The two men exchanged formal greetings as Buffy continued, “His Grace was telling me about these interesting patterns he’s noticed among a few members of the clan.”

“So I hear,” Spike murmured. At the Duke’s inquiring look, he elaborated. “The Marquess of Brummidge stopped round earlier. Apparently, he was on his way to see you when he happened upon Mrs. Rothworth’s carriage. I’ve actually just returned from securing the perpetrators at Whitt’s. They’ll be dealt with on the morrow.”

Buffy wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. True, they’d robbed her former chaperone and forced her into the sunlight, thereby killing her instantly. But could she just stand by while Spike and the others exacted revenge? It wasn’t a question she was prepared to answer right now, because right now, she’d answer with an unequivocal yes.

Kill them all and to hell with right and wrong.

And then what would that make her?

The door opened a moment later and Higgins, their butler, stepped inside to announce the Marchioness of Haversham’s arrival. Buffy had stood before the servant even finished his proclamation, and after a quick glance at Spike, in which he gave a short nod, she excused herself and darted out of the room as fast as decorously possible.

In the front sitting room, the door had barely closed behind her and Buffy was hurling herself into her friend’s arms, sobbing pitifully on her shoulder.

“Buffy! Oh, honey, I’m sorry I couldn’t get here before now,” Renee soothed as she guided them to one of the two decorative couches. Buffy lifted her head from the vampiress’ shoulder and Renee took the opportunity to soothe the girl’s hair out of her face. “Is there any news?”

“S-Spike…he found them. Says he’s got them locked up at Whitt’s.”

“Good.” Renee’s voice had turned hard, so unlike her usual demeanor. Mrs. Rothworth had been a good friend, had helped her through the dark period in her life after Jared was gone.

“I…I don’t know if I can let this happen. Let them just be killed…”

Renee stood, the natural amber of her eyes darkening slightly as her demonic features burst forth; she whirled around to stare at her friend.

“Would you see them let go? Unpunished for their crime against one of us?”

“I—”

“You live in our world now, Buffy. Stop seeing things in black and white. Those men will pay. And all of us, Spike included, will gain satisfaction in seeing them dead.” Her sudden burst of anger gone, the ridges above her brow faded, her eyes once more returning to their softer yellow. “The Slayer doesn’t exist here. She’s not needed. We know how to maintain the balance.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“We don’t kill indiscriminately, Buffy. You know that.”

The Slayer nodded. “It just goes against everything I’ve believed in. Everything I’ve been trained—”

“Trained being the key word here. What if it had been me? Or Spike?” She smiled when she saw her friend’s eyes darken perceptively. She resumed her seat by her friend’s side, taking the girl’s hands in her own. “You see? That’s the way we feel. How all of us feel at losing one of our own.”

“But it’s wrong.”

“Only from where you’re standing.”

next

REVIEW ME!