ROAD TRIP
3
by
Maz
Spike gazed
around the room as they entered. From the furnishings, it looked as if it was
modelled on an expensive Victorian gentlemen's club, with leather wing-backed
chairs scattered around in small groups, paintings of men in red coats on
horseback around the walls and discrete lighting. Even the costumes of the
human servants somehow suggested the same influence, although no gentlemen's
club Spike could remember would have allowed female servants into their main
rooms. He remembered the stories Angelus used to tell of earlier times, when
Prinny ruled London and the clubs invited the most exclusive whores to their
parties. He tried to remember Venetia's age.
She had told
him a little about the club as they climbed the stairs: the facilities it had
to offer, its general layout, some of the amusements available to her
customers. Leading him across the room to a group of chairs arranged around a
small table, she sat down. Spike sat opposite, his back to the wall. Xander,
following instructions perfectly, knelt on the floor resting his head on
Spike's knee. Spike tangled his hand back in his hair, allowing him to look
around under the guise of responding to the caress like an eager puppy.
"Now, why
doesn't my Hellmouth boy behave like that?" Venetia mused. "You have
the exclusive bond, of course... You always had a good eye, William." She
paused, but Spike said nothing and when she spoke next her voice was lively
again. "So, tell me what you think?" she asked, waving her hand
behind her, indicating the room.
Spike allowed
his admiration to colour his voice. "Very nice," he said. "Very
you." He gazed around, taking in more of the details. The plush carpet
combined with the rich cream and maroon walls and the lights set in alcoves to
create an air of intimacy, an air of comfort and pampered discretion. A number
of doors led to what Venitia promised were well-appointed private facilities,
as well as a couple of games-rooms with a variety of games on offer. It turned
out only three humans were present, now that he had time to look around
properly, lined up against the far wall next to a table stocked with bottles,
decanters and glasses. Two were young – one male, one female – obviously there
to please the eye and, if Spike's guess was correct, to also please the body
and the palate. She was dressed in a tightly corseted, low cut gown of rich,
blood red, with her hair pulled up and back on her head, exposing her throat
and the clearly visible bite scar high on the left side. He wore a loose cream
shirt, open at the front and tucked into tight britches of the same colour
which were laced up the legs and a footman's blue frogged coat. His hair was
short, also exposing and displaying the mark on his neck. The third human was
older and dressed in discrete black. He appeared to be in charge, since he
immediately passed a silver tray to the young girl and placed a couple of
glasses on it, while sending the boy out through a door behind him with a
whispered instruction. A Renfield, Spike thought, probably something more here
in his youth, but retained now to keep the other humans in order.
He turned back
to Venetia. "You must have been here for a while."
"About
twenty years." She replied, with pride. "Spike, you have no idea. It
was a fleapit when I arrived. A small house, and so squalid. But I've turned it
into one of the most exclusive attractions this side of the Atlantic. Just by
word of mouth, I have built up a very large and very loyal clientele, who come
back regularly and bring me enough presents to keep me in the style to which I
have always been accustomed." She raised one slender arm and signalled to
the young woman, who approached, carefully carrying the silver tray, now loaded
with a crystal decanter and two tulip glasses. "The stock is nearly all
local, although some are from outside - they hear about me and come
looking." As the tray was placed on the small table at her elbow, she ran
her hand down the girl's flank and slapped her gently on the rump. "I
train them myself and I look after them. There hasn't been an unnatural death
in this town in two decades. I keep them safe." Her hand slid into a slit
in the skirt of the girl's dress, exposing her thigh and stroking over the
place she had just slapped, before she reached out to pick up the decanter and
pour them both a drink. "Them and their families." The girl withdrew
cautiously backwards and Venetia watched her go with a hungry look of promise
on her face. The girl smiled coyly and bobbed her head in acknowledgement. She
turned back to Spike. "The problem is getting rid of them when they've
lost their youthful charms.” She swirled her glass, raising it to her nose
before taking a delicate sip. “Some of the older ones continue to hang around
the doors, making the place look untidy. But you know how it works. The ones
who can't take the withdrawal move on eventually. They leave town, go and find
someone else. Meanwhile, I keep good healthy merchandise. They are well fed and
cared for. They eat better here than outside, and they keep coming back. I
don't have any forced stock. That's not my style. Customers looking for extreme
pain games won't find them here." She smiled a smug, self-satisfied smile.
"Not from my regular stock, anyway. I like to think of myself as a purist
- the beauty of the bite is enough. And most important of all, they're
clean."
Spike raised
his own glass and took a sip, savouring the tingle of vintage cognac on his
tongue and wondering about her switch to his common name, before he spoke.
"Clean?"
Her chuckle
was distinctly dirty. "Well, I do run a business and I do aim to please.”
She swirled her glass, raising it to her nose again. “If you want some added
flavour in the blood it can be arranged. There are a couple I can call on who
use drugs. But I care for them, I won't see them abused, too much, and as a
result they are all eager to please. But what am I saying? You obviously know
the trick yourself. That one is a delight. I don't suppose...?"
"No!"
Spike's eyesight peaked to sharp-edged brightness and he knew he sounded more
abrupt than he should. "No one touches him but me. No one even reaches out
a hand to stroke. You know what I'm like with my possessions, Venetia.” He felt
his face shift back to human form, although the clarity of his vision told him
that his eyes were still true. “He’s never known another hand on him. He's
skittish if strangers come too close. And that's the way I like it."
"Yet here
you are." Venetia smiled archly. "Are you getting bored, William? Do
you want a taste of the exotic?"
The utter ridiculousness
of that idea brought Spike back to himself and a full awareness of their
situation. He forced a rueful laugh. "Venetia. I was only passing
through." He chided. "Mostly I was curious to see whether this place
was all I had heard." He paused to take another, appreciative look around.
The colours and textures were once again flat and pale. "And I think I can
safely say it is. I'm not looking for a replacement for my boy." Reaching
down he gripped Xander's chin, forcing him to look up and smiled into his eyes.
"I wouldn't do that, would I, Boy?" he said, with indulgent fondness,
before looking back across at her. "Although, I have thought lately about
a... supplement? I'm afraid he doesn't recover as quickly as he used to, no
matter how much red meat I feed him. I need to share my attentions, to give him
time to rest up properly. I've had my eye out for something... complimentary.
To make a matched pair, perhaps. I heard about this place and thought it worth
a try." He smiled, appraisingly. "Would you consider a sale, if the
goods were what I was after and the price was agreeable?"
She smiled
back, but her eyes were calculating. "I don't do that," she said.
"This house works because the local population is not disturbed. But...
for you?” Spike could almost see the thoughts running through her head as she
catalogued the stock she held, working out which were most disposable, and what
she could get away with palming off on him. “For you, I might make an
exception. Yes, I very well might. I have one or two I could possibly part
with. What's your fancy? Male or female?"
"Male. I
don't want to confuse my boy. I took him young and have had him for a long
time, you understand..." He allowed his voice to trail off to silence.
Venetia nodded
watching him closely. "Yes, I understand perfectly. But I don't have
anything like that. At least, nothing I'm willing to part with. Besides, the
really young ones would be missed and although the local police are no
trouble..." She laughed at some private joke. "A child, or even a
teenager would still be reported and I don't want questions from out of town. I
have built this house on discretion and the understanding that the stock is
willing."
Spike injected
as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could muster. "That's what I want,
My Dear. That's why I came." He frowned. "I'm not in the market for
worn out rubbish, you understand. But I trained my boy up and I don't want the
trouble of doing that again. Something already broken in, that already knows
his place..." He gripped a hand-full of hair, using the grip to shake
Xander's head slightly - fond caress from a vampire. "Boy will educate him
in the details and I'll take over sole possession." Looking up into
Venetia's face he allowed his voice to soften with silken flattery. "From
what I heard about your house, aesthetics won't be a problem. I'm sure you can
satisfy my needs, if anyone can."
One of the doors leading to the private rooms opened and another well
dressed vampire couple wandered in, the man with his arm around the woman's
shoulders, laughing at something she was whispering into his ear. The older
servant greeted them, bowing as he ushered them to seats as far from Spike and
Venetia as possible. Spike idly watched him signal the boy over to take their
order, as he himself bowed his way out through the door they had entered by.
Venetia
watched with a nod of approval and turned back to Spike. "Yes, all my
stock is pretty, in one way or another. But the only ones for sale are a bit
older than your boy. Offhand I can only think of a couple of out-sourced males
who would not be missed if they moved on, and I'm getting rather fond of one of
them myself. Hmm... let me see... it's Friday, isn't it? I imagine the other
will be in soon, hoping for a customer. I've not needed him for a few days, the
craving will be building. Lovely specimen, my Hellmouth boy. Yes, I noticed
your interest, William. He practically begged me to take him in, the first
night he came by. I own him now. But he's happy to go with anyone with teeth.
Why don't you sit with your drink here and I'll send him over when he
arrives?"
Spike nodded
his agreement and sat back, pulling Xander up into his lap. "You do that.
I'll be fine with the bottle and... other distractions."
Venetia laughed her rich, deep chuckle and headed off to speak to her other customers.