For Love of a Wolf: Alric's Story
by SpikesKat
Chapter 3
Alric began pushing his way through the crowd of demons, trying to get closer to the girl. Snatches of conversation off to his right made him pause for a moment, and then stop altogether.
Apparently the slave was slated for a special auction scheduled later that night, the event officially kicking off the weekend’s festivities.
“Gotta have deep pockets to get inside that place,” the first demon commented. “Hear it’s five thou’… just for the opportunity to bid.”
“Yeah…” The second demon looked crestfallen.
“And only the choice breeders are given an invitation, so you know the stock will be top notch.”
The pair moved off and Alric followed after them – discreetly, of course – and was able to glean the particulars. He glanced at his watch and frowned. Two hours to waste.
He may as well continue his surveillance of the place.
Though, with the information he now possessed, Alric figured the real players would be at the auction.
~*~*~*~*~
“We should be with him,” Buffy complained. She was curled up against Spike’s side, one leg draped over his.
They’d received Bob’s encrypted email earlier that both he and Alric were settled in at the Landmark London, and that the vamp was going to do a quick look-see about the place. Now they were just waiting for word back on the particulars so they could plan a course of action to diffuse the situation.
Spike’s fingers stilled on the Slayer’s arm, trying to gauge whether she was serious or just whining, as she was wont to do.
“Alric can see to himself, luv. And we’ll be there soon. No sense stormin’ the castle before it’s needed. ‘Sides, one of us there is bad enough… two of us would not go unnoticed.”
“I know…” she pouted. “But we’ve barely gotten back and already we’re split back up again.”
Spike rolled his eyes – she was just whining.
“What you need is something to take your mind off things.” He pinned the Slayer beneath him and wiggled his eyebrows.
“Oh? What did you have in mind?” Not that they hadn’t just concluded some mind-numbing activities.
“Hmmm… I don’t know, pet. Feel up to a game of your famous hide and seek?”
Buffy snorted. Her husband was nothing if not predictable. There was just something about stealthy stalking her that got his demon off. But she wasn’t complaining, far from it… because the capture always led to other… toe-curling, breathlessly panting… things.
“I guess…” she finally allowed, trying to hide her growing excitement. “But I’m warning you right now…I may hide and get lost. Really lost. This place is a damn mausoleum.”
“Is that a yes?”
The Slayer grinned and pulled out of Spike’s arms. She snagged her robe off the foot of the bed and shrugged into it, belting it tightly at her waist.
Seeing that, Spike frowned.
“Who said anything about gettin’ dressed?”
“I did. I’m not about to go streaking about Jocelyn’s home without a stitch of clothing on… someone might see, you perv.”
“Well… that’s no fun then,” Spike grumbled, immediately losing interest in the game. “Take that off and come back to bed, I’m sure I can think of something else to provide a distraction. How ‘bout a bit o’ rough and tumble?”
“Nu uh…” she grinned and backed away towards the door, careful to keep her eyes on him. Although he was lounging easy enough against the pillows, Buffy well knew how quickly he could be upon her. “If you catch me we can spar… or do other things…”
Then she was out the door and racing down the hallway, her tinkling laughter echoing against the walls as she moved deeper into the mansion.
Spike grinned at how easily the Slayer had been manipulated.
~*~*~*~*~
Alric handed over the five thousand necessary to gain him admittance to the special pre-auction. He walked through the heavy curtain that guarded the entrance, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dim light of the small room.
A few others were already inside, each of them looking over the brief program. He didn’t acknowledge any of his competition as he took a seat in a back corner – choosing the spot automatically, the need to protect his back uppermost in his mind. Plus, the lighting did much to shield his features from view. Not that he was trying to hide, but he didn’t want to give anything away as to which slave might interest him.
Another ten minutes went by before the demon that had been standing outside collecting the entrance fee walked in. The curtain was closed behind him, blocking out the light filtering in from the outside, immediately plunging the tiny room into darkness. A moment later, a spotlight appeared on a small, make-shift stage, and Alric could see a podium being brought out from the back of the room and placed next to it.
“Good evening, distinguished guests,” a second demon greeted the assembled buyers. “I’d like to personally welcome you to the first gathering of its kind in Europe. You are all here because, to you, money is no object when it comes to your… amusements. Let me assure you, tonight’s selection is the crème-de-la-crème of the slaves you’ll see here over the weekend. The breeders putting forth their stock are hand selected by the organizers of the trade show. I trust you all have received a numbered paddle.” The demon looked out over the assembled patrons and noticed a few nods. “Good. Then, rather than ramble on, I’d like to bring out our first item.”
A tall male was led out by his handler and put through a quick series of commands. The announcer rattled on about the human’s breeding and training. Alric barely paid the slave any attention, but noticed that a few of the other buyers – both male and female – eyed him intently. The bidding started, and the vamp watched as paddles flew in the air as each sought to be the winning bid.
“Sold! For eighteen thousand dollars.”
The male was led away and a second human was brought out, the process starting all over again.
“We’re nearly half-way through now,” the demon announced. “Our next item is from Glarshnic’s breeding farm.”
Alric didn’t hear much else of what the announcer said as the girl he’d noticed earlier was led out from behind the curtain. Having already decided that she would be his, he took umbrage at the fact of the demon’s hands upon her nearly nude body. He noticed a few others sit up in their seats and eye the girl with sudden interest.
“What do I hear for this lovely specimen? Five thousand?”
A paddle went up in the first row.
“Five thousand to the gentleman in the front row. Do I hear six?”
When the bid got to twenty thousand and was down to two demons, Alric joined in.
“Twenty-five.” His voice was low, but he knew the auctioneer could hear him.
“I have twenty-five from the gentleman in the back. Do I hear twenty-six?”
Someone answered his call.
“Thirty.” Again his voice was low.
“I… I have thirty thousand from the gentleman in the back. Do I hear thirty-one?” The demon glanced about the room. No paddles were raised. “I have thirty,” he called out again. “Going once… going twice… Sold! For thirty-thousand dollars.”
Alric stood up as the girl was led away. He’d gotten what he came for; there was no sense him hanging around for the rest of the show.
~*~*~*~*~
Tala was led off the stage and it took everything she had not to have her legs give out on her. She’d just been sold – for thirty thousand dollars.
He’d only said two words, numbers really. But, it was enough to send chills down her spine. More than Glarshnic ever could with all of his beatings.
Not for the first time Tala wondered how her life had gotten to this point.
‘Shut it out,’ she silently commanded herself. ‘Remember your training. Please your new master. It’s the only way…’
She followed meekly as Glarshnic led her down a hallway. He stopped at a counter, and she sank to her knees and waited. She felt a hand run along her hair, and she forced herself not to cringe.
“Good girl. You remember…”
It was a warning, plain and simple. One she couldn’t disobey.
“Someone has paid a lot of money for you, and I don’t want it getting back to me that he was displeased. Do you understand?”
Her hair was gripped and her head yanked back, and Tala found herself staring into eyes black as pitch.
“Would you be so kind as to unhand my newest pet?”
The words were spoken calmly enough, but there was enough underlying menace that even Glarshnic sensed it. His grip on her hair loosened almost instantly, then fell away, and Tala found herself once more staring at the ground in front of her, her hands clasped lightly behind her back.
“Thank you.”
Glarshnic grunted and turned to the man next to him and sniffed. Vampire. Old.
“Here’s the receipt of purchase. I believe you’ve only to see the cashier.”
Alric held out the piece of paper to the breeder.
Glarshnic nodded, not bothering to take it. Instead, he held out the leash.
“Pleasure doing business with you.” Alric replied as he tugged on the leash, suppressing a frown as the girl unfolded herself from the floor and resettled herself by his side; instead his lips curved into a faint smile appearing pleased with how well she’d been trained. He wondered, yet again, what had possessed him to buy the creature; she was going to do nothing but complicate his life.
‘Part of the cover,’ he reminded himself.
“Tell me, Glarshnic, is this girl here the exception, or the norm? I may eventually want to purchase a stud.”
“I put out only the best, Mr…?”
“Maximilian.”
“Mr. Maximilian. My slaves are the most well-trained in all of Europe. Just ask around. I’ve never had one yet to turn on its master.”
“That’s good to hear.” Alric inclined his head and moved off, his new pet in tow.
~*~*~*~*~
“Shouldn’t you still be in bed?” Buffy asked Joseph as she walked into the dining room and saw the vamp sitting at the table, reading the newspaper.
“Haven’t gone yet.”
“Oh?”
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” she told him.
“You didn’t have to. I know that look,” he replied, then went back to reading his paper.
“What look? I don’t have a ‘look.’”
“Yes, you do.” Joseph smirked. It was such fun baiting the Slayer; he’d forgotten how much.
“So, how are things going with you and Jocelyn?”
The vamp groaned, as the reason for his sleeplessness – a topic he’d thought he’d managed to squelch – was brought back into the forefront.
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Buffy…”
“What? I’m just striking up a conversation here. It’s the first chance we’ve really had to talk since I’ve been back.”
“More like the first chance you’ve had to nag me,” Joseph muttered under his breath.
“I heard that.”
“Well, it’s true. Next you’ll be harpin’ on me about this ‘mate’ stuff.” He lowered his paper and glared at her.
“Well…”
“Here we go. Where’s my sire when I need him?”
“In bed… sleeping.” Buffy grinned. “I wore him out.”
“Isn’t he the lucky one…?” Joseph grumbled.
“Uh huh.” Her smile grew wider.
“Feel up to a little one-on-one?” the vamp asked abruptly, in the desperate hope of steering the conversation away from his love-life, or sudden lack thereof.
“Sure! What did you have in mind?”
~*~
“Fencing is a ‘zero talking’ sport, Buffy,” Joseph complained. “It’s why I chose it.”
Buffy grinned beneath her mask, not that he could see.
“I know… but since when do I follow the rules?”
“Brat.”
He attacked with a series of lunges that had the Slayer on the defensive and scrambling to parry. Her last one fell short and the tip of his blade delved into the protective barrier on her chest. Buffy ceded defeat, and Joseph backed away to return to the en-garde position.
The two fenced for well over an hour, and even though, by rights, Joseph should have been exhausted and sleeping along with the rest of her clan, he still managed to defeat the Slayer.
“Someone’s out of shape,” he teased as he pulled off his helmet.
“Yeah, well… someone’s had a few extra years to practice… almost one hundred and fifty years.”
Joseph snorted.
Buffy walked over to the wall and replaced her rapier, sliding her helmet onto one of the shelves. She was almost to the door when she stopped and glanced back at the vampire.
“You know… if you had a mate, you wouldn’t have to take your frustrations out on me,” she teased. It was her mission in life to get all her boys paired up with someone. Joseph just happened to be the first one she’d come across.
“Go!” he laughed, pointing towards the exit.
“Just saying…”
With a wave she was gone, and Joseph was stuck with the thought that the Slayer was too canny by half. Still, it wasn’t too much of a hardship escorting Renee’s childe about. At least he was able to get out of the mansion and mingle for awhile, even if he had to maintain his cover as her doting boyfriend – which meant no sneaking off to see to his baser needs. Wouldn’t do to have his picture posted in the rags that he was two-timing the heiress. He’d never be able to eat all the paparazzi that were lurking about in order to stifle the story… as much as he might want to.
That thought brought a smile to his face and he replaced his helmet and left the room.
He really should be sleeping. Heck, after the hour-long joust-fest with the Slayer, he was dog-tired. But, his brain refused to shut down. Maybe it was all the mindless activity they were indulging in while waiting for Alric’s signal, especially after they’d spent the last year or so preparing for his sire’s return.
Joseph stepped from the room, intending to seek his bed and force himself to sleep.
“You should be sleeping, childe.”
“Sire!”
Joseph whirled around to see Spike leaning against the wall, clad in only a pair of jeans.
“What’s wrong?” Spike asked.
“Nothing… I…” his voice trailed off. He was hard put to actually voice his troubles, if he could call them that. It wasn’t like they were anything concrete.
“I was about to go through some of the books Jocelyn brought back with her. Join me in the study?”
“Of course…”
Maybe some mindless reading would be enough to finally lull him to sleep, and he was never one to turn down his sire’s company.