Ana: Thank you for your kind word, I hope you like this chapter.
In order to have an enemy, one must be somebody. One must be a force before he can be resisted by another force. A malicious enemy is better than a clumsy friend.
Author: Anne Sophie Swetchine
Spike was practically vibrating with rage as he took in the Counts' smug expression. The older vampire was apparently going to bask in every moment of his superior status. Not that it surprised the blonde in the least. There was not much he could do anyway as the auction house staff was waving their electric batons around in what he thought was some overly dramatic Freudian metaphor. It was a clear warning that he should not forget who had the power.
On the bright side--because he needed something to be positive about--at least the others managed to escape. Though Angel was in pretty bad shape the last time Spike had laid eyes on him. They were free and the brunette had his son to look after him. Illyria as well though he didn't fool himself into believing she could be of much comfort to Angel. The image of her offering chicken soup to a bed ridden Angel was almost enough to keep his mind off his own predicament. Almost.
Spike knew his own chances of survival were severely limited now. That it was highly unlikely that a rescue attempt would be made soon. The darker more doubtful part of him told him that the others--meaning Angel--wouldn't give a damn about him anyway. All he knew for sure was that he had his back against the proverbial wall again and had to rely on himself. Spike was determined to take the advantage to the fullest when the egotistic git finally let his guard down.
"How would you like your property to be shipped, Count?" The auctioneers' nasal voice asked safely behind the guards.
Don't kill don't kill, Spike silently chanted willing himself not to prove Angel right. He was not going to "get killed someday by not being able to shut the hell up." If he did he knew that he would never hear the end of it in the afterlife. His own personal hell would be Angel informing him, yet again, how unless he really was. That or sitting through another one of Andrews' home made videos.
"There are so many options are there not?" A thick accent replied bringing him back to the present. Dracula slipped on a pair of his thick leather gloves, as if Spike was too contaminated to touch and gripped his chin uncomfortably tight.
"Perhaps a muzzle?" He said with a look of great distain on his face. "It could be the only solution to make this lesser vampire keep silent. I am not sure how long I could endure his endless prattle."
"How 'bout I stake you and send you back in a matchbox you spineless wanker--" Perhaps he couldn't control himself after all. Dracula always had a talent for raising his temper as his arrogance had hit a nerve within him. In their first meeting he had even completely dismissed the younger vampire as a threat. Even after Spike had proved to him how dangerous it was to underestimate him Dracula had kept insulting him in that regard.
The grip tightened causing Spike to grunt in pain. It made him have the strangest sense of deja-vu when the Count lifted him up just like he did in 1898. It seemed that Spike could still hit nerves just as well as Dracula could.
"Let me make myself perfectly clear," the dark vampires' eyes had a dangerous glint in them as he added in an equally deadly tone "I own you now. I could kill you without much effort or I can make you suffer worse than any soul could. I hold your future in the palm of my hand. I would advise you to be more careful with your words to me."
There was a delicious pause before Spike was unable to resisted raising an eyebrow and saying very slowly, in a way to one would speak to a small child: "Bugger that you son of a b--"
The punch was to be expected, the force was not. Spike never remembered him being able to throw much force behind his punches. Then again he supposed that he never actually got hit by Draculas' fist before. Strange that. The world spun and darkness soon surrounded him. An ice cold floor welcomed him back into the world.
Another bloody basement I wager, Spike thought darkly.
The shackles were gone but in their place were two silver bands with strange designs craved into them. One of the symbols Spike noticed was Draculas' seal placed on the middle of each of the bands. Branding me his property, is he?
Spike didn't care for that much and just as he was about to try to rip it off the door to the cell was open. To add insult to--well the bigger insult--he found that he wasn't even in the dungeon. No, he was put into the pantry with the cooking supplies. Teeth grit in irritation he turned his focus to the sight in front of him.
A posh middle aged woman regarded him coolly for a moment before she motioned to someone out of his view. Two of the oddest looking men Spike had ever seen came out of hiding lifting him into the kitchen before he could catch his bearings. The woman stood primly then proceeded to sniff in distain. He was truly getting sick of that reaction.
"I am Madam Drake, the caretaker of the manor of Dracula. The master wishes to speak with you now that you have awaked."
"I'm all a titter." He replied earning a rough push from behind.
"The master did not command that you remain unharmed. If you were wise you would hold your tongue. Hans and Jon are able to cripple demons within seconds."
Catching a whiff of them Spike could tell there was some truth to her claim. They were not human they were vampires, which meant that the Count was not underestimating him in this case. Though he knew that he should hope that Dracula would become overconfident it was a nice ego stroking, one that was desperately needed as of late.
Still Spike decided to play things by ear for the time being to get a chance to take in the situation. It appeared that he was Romania at Draculas' private estate not just one of his holiday homes, which Madam Drake had confirmed.
It was huge which did not surprise him; those with such large egos always tended to have homes to match. Just like Angelus he would bet Dracula would put up a fit if he had to stay one night in a run down hotel. Much less a crypt or basement.
The git sure is high and mighty for someone who travels by shipping himself in dirt. Huh, makes me wonder how I got here.
Glancing to his sides he sized up the goons that were sent to watch over him. Both were heavy set, though only one, the one with his long hair tied back, was taller than Spike. He was still unsure who was Hans and who was Jon. Neither had spoken though they seemed to understand well enough to appear menacing. The shorter of the two had shoulder length hair, a wider face and slant grey eyes. Their elaborate clothes were ill suited with their forms making both seem more Frankenstein-ish than gentlemanly. Since they had familiar features Spike hazarded a guess that they were related.
Madam Drake was not dressed as prim and proper as he would expect from the way she held herself. Her attire though neat was modest more peasant-like than lady-like. Her bracelet caught his eye though it was tucked under her blouse sleeve. It seemed out of place almost tacky in comparison to her elaborate necklace. Her scent was covered with other elements of the castle and…children? A mother or a nanny than though he knew that the former was much more likely.
There were plenty of long hallways, stairways and servants on the path to the master of the estate. Spike figured it was the Counts' ego again, even to his enemy the older vampire had to show off his wealth and power. Maybe it was also an attempt to make Spike feel helpless in light of his oh-so-commanding-manly-power. Whatever it was Spike was neither impressed nor intimated. He had lived with too many self important people in the past to care either way.
When the group finally came into the Counts' office, which he thought wryly put Angels' old one to shame in terms of size (wouldn't he love to hear that), Dracula himself waited by the window. Judging by the fact that the drapes were closed he guessed it was still day time outside but the Count just wanted to make an appearance.
Yeah, 'cause having your bleeding back turned facing a wall when your archenemy is brought in makes such a great statement. Dracula turned around smug as ever motioning for the blonde to sit down. Spike did so kicking his feet up onto the desk enjoying the outrage on the others' face. From behind he heard Madam Drake gasp in shock. Soon Hans and Jon were pushing him back into the chair while her ladyship hastily wiped down their masters' desk.
"I see that your insolence has not improved during your confinement."
Arrogant tosser, assuming that little punch is going to make me cower in fear.
"And I see your taste of deco hasn't improved within the last century of two, mate. Still got that old aunty doilies look, don't it?" My, my look at that lovely vein popping out of sir pounce-a-lots' head.
"As crass and common as ever "William the Bloody", still lacking a respect for your betters. In your time here you will finally learn your place and to honor my home. I will suffer no more of insults to my person nor damage to my estates."
"Damage to your…? Oh yeah that's right, I ruined two of your little summer homes, didn't I? First the one with the mobs with their torches that I sent and then the one that fell into the pit when I caused Sunnydale to cave in. Huh, I forgot all about that. Such a shame really." Spike said happily, not bothering to express regret that he didn't feel. Those were a few of the memories as an unsouled demon that he could relish in.
Madam Drake looks positively angst that he would dare to say such things to her lord. The silent guards appeared to be slightly puzzled and unsure whether they should be threatening or not. Dracula was livid naturally which did not look good for Spike. He never could keep his mouth shut when he was in a tight spot. He knew that he should but it could not be helped.
It was bad enough that Spike was in this predicament in the first place he sure as hell not about to plead his case to Dracula. He could not give the Count the satisfaction of seeing him squirm especially since he knew it was what he wanted. Dracula unexpectedly took a different course than Spike anticipated.
"Tell me, how is it that you were able to become flesh and blood again? When our paths last crossed you were a ghost." The Counts' hands laced together under his chin and Spike found himself reminded of Angel again. It was a gesture the brunette used with him, to appear calm and in control. Even though it rarely convinced either of them or stopped them from arguing. Spike wondered how long it would take until Angel was healed…
"I do recall a young woman…Felicia--Who you--"
"Fred." Spike hissed through clenched teeth. The bastards' acting like she wasn't important, to a self centered git like him I suppose she wouldn't be. All he ever saw in her was a way to get revenge on Angel and me. Then a way to keep me from haunting him by trying to make me solid again; Dracula knows nothing of that girls' worth. "Her name's Fred."
"Ah yes, that was her name. Such a charming, if slightly babbling lady she was. I believe she meant a great deal to you--and Angel." To bloody right she did, more than you'll ever know. "You claimed that she could bring you back to your old self. It appears that she succeeded."
He's baiting me, wanting me to give something away so that he can use it against me. Well he picked the wrong topic. I don't have to tell him anything of importance about that score.
"I'm solid, ain't I?"
"That did not escape my notice, no. I was merely commenting on the young ladys' determination in bringing you back. Such devotion is hard to come by, is it not?"
Well lookie here, now he's implying that Fred and I were an item. Thinks he's got me figured, does he? Spike shrugged as if what Fred tried to do was unremarkable. The mask was firmly in place, Dracula would not see through it. He never had in the past not expecting much from "lesser vampires" than himself.
"For some people I s'ppose it is."
"She matters a great deal to you, does she not?" She did.
"If you have a point I'd get to it soon I bore easily, mate."
"That does not surprise me in the least." Dracula muttered under his breath before motioning to Madam Drake. She sauntered towards him with a bottle from the side bar and a wine glass. She poured until he made a small gesture then returned to her place near her masters' side.
"This Fred cares for you also?" Dracula asked inspecting the wine with a critical eye. "She must worry for you greatly. Angel will no doubt look after her in your absence. He seemed quite fond of her."
Spike almost laughed out loud at this. The other vampire was so far off mark he was beginning to suspect that the tales of his famed ability to read people was just part of the legend.
"Course he is. He'll look after her if she'll let him. She's a big girl."
It appeared that Dracula realized his mistaken assumption when his frowned at his prisoner. Taking a dainty sip of wine he seemed ponder over what they had said.
"Now are we going to chat all day about this fetish you seem to have with Angel, Fred and me or do you actually have something to say?" Spike barked out, preferring to get the torture that was in mind for him over with rather than deal with his own memories. He was better at fighting the torments of the physical world better than the lingering ghost of his brain. The soul didn't change that aspect of him it only magnified it.
Dracula nodded at the question though Spike got the feeling he was just putting it aside for a later date. Angelus was better at this game than him. Being able to pick apart a person based on their desires, weaknesses and such. Spike even admitted to himself that was an expert in the field too. He could tell who was going to make waves in Worfram and Hart just by sitting in on a pool table.
Never did see Knox much though, maybe if I did I'd see him for what he was. Maybe not. No matter how good you are there is always someone who slips under the radar. I intend to keep things that way with me and the Count.
"Very well…we will be discussing about what your duties will be now." Finishing off his drink Dracula set the glass down reclining in his seat watching Spike through narrowed eyes. "Madam Drake will inform you each day what your chores will be. If you do not comply to your new station you will face the consequences. Am I making myself clear?"
Taking Spike glare as an affirmative reply Dracula continued, "You will do these duties every night and then retire to your assigned chambers immediately upon completion. Any queries you have regarding this should be--"
"Just one," Spike gestured to the silver bands locked onto his wrists, "is this some sort of Romania fashion statement or just your usual narcissist bollocks? 'Cause I gotta say mate, I'm sick of wearing gaudy jewelry."
"That is a measure to ensure you do not wander far from the castle. You will find out yourself what it's true purpose is if you are foolish enough to test me." Dracula smiled broadly saying very clearly how likely he thought that notion was. "You will never leave under your own power again. I own you and will do with you as I please. For now I bid you welcome Spike to the rest of your life. Enjoy it while you can."
