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Author's Chapter Notes:
despite my hubby being away and my daughter being home from school sick you finally have an update
Spike and Dru were sitting quietly looking at a poetry book when the door opened with a click. Spike had explored every inch of the room and there was no was in or out except the heavy steel door that they had entered through. After Dru had finished her bath they had curled up on the sofa and found a book to read. Byron’s poetry always had soothed Dru, it was something they shared when the world was quiet about them, and it soothed both demon and human within them. The click of the lock releasing had made a small noise that caught their attention and made them look up.
Watching as the door opened, Spike slipped into game face, trying to sense if there was anyone or anything waiting for them in the corridor. There was nothing. Spike felt for the sharp knife from the kitchen he had palmed earlier. He wanted to be prepared for anything. Looking up and down the plain concrete walls he saw and heard nothing. It was completely empty of life. The blaring of the speaker actually made him jump.

‘Please follow the light, Mr Pratt,’ it said clearly. Despite making him jump the tones were soft and gentle, and decidedly feminine and as captivating as a siren’s.

‘Shall we dance down my prince, dance and find someone nice to eat?’ Dru looked up with open, almost innocent eyes.

‘Of course we can,’ he laughed and took hold of his dark lady’s waist in a classical ballroom hold, waltzing her away, following a glowing bobbing light along the corridor and around the corner. Waltzing allowed him to turn, seeing every nook and cranny. There were doors, solid steel doors every 25 feet or so, enough distance for more little apartments like the one they had been staying in. He could hear the cameras tracking their movements and grinned. Their captors were nothing if not predictable. He could feel the coldness of the steel in the small of his back, extra help if claw and fang weren’t enough.

Within a couple of minutes the light stopped in front of a door at the end of the dreary corridor. Unlike the others this one was wooden, heavily carved with symbols. It swung open as they approached; Spike let go of his hold on Dru, and offered her his arm. He had been born a gentleman. He motioned her through the doorway first, going to move it out of her way.

‘Warning: do not touch the door,’ their voice said to them and Spike noted the carving. Each and every one of the symbols had meaning. This door could only be touched by someone wearing all the correct protections and marks on their bodies. This place was a mix of magic and science, both systems being used to protect and control everyone inside. If there was anyone else inside… he dropped his hand and allowed the door to continue to open widely, showing yet another corridor, but this one looked as though it was part of some sort of country house with a blue blooded and belted earl in residence. Dru spun round, her head thrown back as she looked around the hallway. Spike dropped his game face and allowed his eyes to change from gold to sparkling blue.

The bobbing ball of light led them through the door and up some stairs to a huge reception hall that was lined with priceless works of art. Monet shared the walls with Gainsborough and the statuary looked like Greek. Spike might appear boorish but William had been raised a gentlemen, and had taken the Grand Tour. He appreciated the refined atmosphere they found themselves in.

Their guide led them towards a door and Spike could hear the heartbeats and smell the scent of humans, male and female. Answers were in that room and he intended to get them. What they were here for? What did these people want from him and Dru? And most of all could they escape? He needed violence and he needed out. Too many memories of Angelus’ sadism kept surfacing. And he needed to keep Dru safe, mostly he needed that, he had to keep Dru safe. These people, whoever they were, had healed her, and now came time to pay for her treatment.

Spike pushed open the door and made his way into the room, scanning as he entered. The windows were huge, and it was dark outside. They might be able to get out that way. He’d wait for a good opportunity to make a run for it, when they knew where they were.

‘Ah good evening Mr Pratt, Miss Smythe. I hope you found your quarters satisfactory?’ A tall imposing-looking man stood as they entered; in fact both men had stood up, giving Dru a small bow. A woman of a ‘certain age’ had turned to face them. Spike inhaled deeply: he could smell her slight arousal, but none of the occupants seemed scared or even anxious when facing half of the scourge of Europe. Spike was intrigued; this was not the normal reaction to being faced with two ferocious vampires.

‘I expect you have a myriad of questions for us Mr Pratt, so please come in and make yourself comfortable, but before you start snacking on any of the occupants here, we had better warn you in the spirit we have all been protected: if you drink from us you will pay the price, and if we die this room will be flooded with daylight, as will the grounds of the mansion. Now that unpleasantness is out of the way, please have a seat and can I get you anything to drink? Mr Pratt, I believe you like a nice whisky: I have a rather pleasant 50 year old Islay Malt, and Miss Smythe do you still enjoy Madeira or would you prefer some fresh blood?’

Dru looked at the man. ‘Be in me,’ she tried to get him to look into her eyes.

‘No thank you, I prefer to keep my thoughts and mind to myself, now what about that drink?’

‘I’ll take the whisky Mr..?’ Spike answered, his eyes still scanning the room.

‘Marcus Thynne and this is Richard Blousy, and Octavia Montgomery. We are members of an organisation that has a proposition for you. A proposition that could be to both your and Miss Smythe’s benefit, ’ he said, handing out the drinks. Dru accepted the Madeira and sipped it gracefully, obviously enjoying the sweet taste.

‘Business later,’ Octavia interrupted, ‘food first,’ standing up and looking expectantly at Spike.

‘Miss Smythe, would you care to accompany me?’ Mr Blousey offered the vampiress his arm with a small bow. Dru smiled at the man and placed her hand gently on his forearm.

‘Lead the way, sir,’ she smiled at him.

William’s Victorian manners came to the fore and he bowed in front of Miss Montgomery.

‘Ma’am, may I have the honour of escorting you?’ he asked with a small bow.

‘Certainly, Mr Pratt,’ she replied as she too took her place by the side of a vampire. She smiled up at the twinkling blue eyes; he was… handsome was the wrong word, beautiful was more accurate and the devilish look in his eyes stopped it making him look effeminate.

‘We will explain everything, you know,’ she added, almost sensing his inquisitive mind.



The little group made their way into a formal dining room that had been set out for the five of them. On te table stood a decanter of what looked like burgundy but smelt like the richest blood he had ever had. The smell alone was making his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Dru started to sway and hum: the blood was affecting his mad sire as well. Richard Blousey pulled the woman in closer to his body and led her to her seat; pulling the chair out, he escorted her down and helped her sit up to the table, allowing her upbringing to control her. Dru’s humming was beginning to get louder and louder, warning Spike that she was about to lose control of what little sanity she normally had. His mind went to all the wards and protections on this house and he only hoped he could deal with them and get Dru away safely; he didn’t matter, only she did.

Blousey smiled at Dru. Her moaning was getting louder and louder but it didn’t seem to worry him; unlike most here he knew the cause and the remedy. He poured a glass of the blood sitting on the table and added a couple of drops from the bottle he kept in his pocket. Handing it to Dru he waited patiently while she drank it down, settling almost immediately.

‘What is that?’ asked Spike, watching every move very carefully, assessing every person around the duo. He had to be ready to strike, to get them out of this warped, mixed up place.

‘It’s a simple compound that regulates her mind. She lost her own abilities with all the torture Angelus put her through, on top of that she has problems with the visions and balancing her demon within her mind, so we have devised a draft that acts as a slight sedative,’ the man answered as he refilled the glass with blood.

Spike, no William, was astounded, they had thought of everything. Whoever they were.

The meal was civilised and delicious, the blood exquisite, the best he had ever tasted. The conversation was light and light-hearted around the table and it reminded Spike of his living days and the dinner parties he had attended with his mother.

Brandy and port was served before Thynne started speaking moer seriously.
‘It’s been a long time since we have entertained vampires in this house,’ he said quietly, ‘and you must be wondering why we went to so much trouble for you two.’

‘We are, or at least I am,’ Spike answered. ‘You have healed Dru, and I’m wondering what the cost is going to be.’

‘For healing Miss Smythe? Nothing, she is a part of a very special organisation, not that she remembers.’ He smiled at Dru, who seemed almost oblivious to the conversation, chatting with Olivia about fashion. She smiled when her name was mentioned but went back to arguing about the length of hems with the other woman.

‘But we have an offer. Miss Smythe is a rare vampire.’ Thynne seemed to stare off into space for a minute.

‘Mad,’ Spike said flatly.

‘No, not just that: did you know it is rare for a devout nun or priest to be turned? They have already sold their souls you see, but not to a demon or Satan, but to God himself, and it does protect them normally; when one does turn part of the soul is left behind to guard and guide when it gets strong enough. Unfortunately the games she was forced to endure damaged her almost beyond repair, but we can help, we can heal her mind and her body, and return her untarnished soul to her body. We can also offer you redemption and a renewal of purpose, but best of all you get to really piss off Angel.’ Thynne smiled at William, knowing that annoying Dru’s sire would always please the vampire.

‘Well I really like the idea of pissing off Angel, but I think we will have to decline, so what punishment do we get?’ said Spike, watching the reaction to his words very carefully.

‘No punishment, we don’t work that way; however, we will tell you that if you agree you and your true love will be together until the end of time, we can offer you the ability to walk in the sun, and have the most amazing life.’ Thynne tried to tempt Spike with his offer.

‘All carrots; where’s the stick?’ Spike asked.

‘The stick is this: you either agree or neither of you walk out of here.’ Blousey looked towards them and nodded. He moved away from the table to the sideboard to collect the plate of fruit and cheese that was waiting for them.

Spike was waiting for that moment, when the men were in separate places; with a flurry of movement he was on Thynne, fist and feet flying. Taking the larger man by surprise he quickly had him on the ground; in full game face he bit deeply into his neck, ready to take his life’s blood. Blousey dropped the dish he had been carrying and tried to make his way to the assault but a growl from Dru brought him up short.

‘Let my Prince play, he’s been a good dog and needs his fun, groof!’ She turned away from the men and kept chatting to Olivia.

As soon as the red liquid hit the back of Spike’s throat he started to scream as steam erupted from his mouth. It was like drinking Holy Water, forcing him to break off the attack. He fell back onto the floor, rolling around the floor in agony. The last thing he knew was a heavy boot headed for his face and he hoped that his death came quickly. The power behind that kick wasn’t human.





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