Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor am I making money off this. This is just for fun.

Summary: When captured in the aftermath of a battle Spike finds himself at the mercy of his old rival--Count Dracula. Will he be saved before it's too late or will he be lulled into something even more dangerous than the Counts' wrath?

Warning: This is slash. It will have some Spike/Dracula and Spike/Angel in it. This is a challenge I took up to do a Dracula slash fic with the guys. I'm not usually a slash writer but I did it for this challenge, where I had to set in up some in my last fic.

Authors Note: This story takes place after my one shot "William Restored."

Spoilers: For the Peter David IDW comics Spike vs. Dracula 1-5.

Journal of Dracula-

My travels in France have been cut short due to the new slayers patrolling its boarders. They are everywhere these days…except my Romani that is. Due to my patronage to tribes such as the Kalderash clan, the elders have made certain that the new Watchers council knows their place. It would not do for them to upset such powerful forces by invading lands were they are unwanted. Though I can avoid conflicts with the new slayers quite easily they are an annoyance that more often than not upset my plans.

I was seeking out the lovely Ms. Ames, a potential bride, when as fate would have it her cousin visited. The young lady in question an inexperience slayer, ignorant of the treaty being worked between myself and the council attacked. It seems she took offence that I chose her cousin and presumed to order us. It was amusing really that the child was arrogant enough to do so. I am certain Ms. Summers would be pleased with her trainee.

Dear Gabrielle seemed embarrassed by the encounter as her cousin—Julie?-

Proceeded to destroy the café--rather than cause my person harm. I confess my interest in the girl waned in light of such a disgraceful scene by her family and chose to visit the auction house instead. I have been hearing tales of priceless art works that have appeared that are unknown to the human world. The place is rather low both in taste and in the literal sense as it's located in the dank sewers. Demons have named it "The Trove" as it has been rumored to have items that can not be found anywhere else on earth. That alone was my reason for enduring that ill-begotten cesspool.

I had planned to visit it before my return as it could have very well been the last time the establishment was open for business. Apparently word had reached the slayers of its existence and it would not be long before they tracked it down. I was not concerned however for I knew that by the time that happened (if it occurred) I would be home long before The Trove was raided.

The company was not much better than the surroundings, far worse if possible. Such classless buffoons, simpletons and savages infested the place. Surprisingly I did manage to spot a few well dressed humans, and even old acquaintances. Unsurprisingly they refused to be seated near the riffraff. I chose to follow their example yet I remained standing to keep myself aware of those around me. It is never a good idea to let ones' guard down in a den of thieves, murderers and lawyers.

The first items auctioned did not spark my interest in the slightest, the next were paintings from an artist I despised. I would not litter my home with such distasteful works of an amateur. I was so preoccupied with these pieces of "art" I missed seeing the next lot being brought out onto the stage. The crowd became loud and several seated rose at once blocking my view. I noted that the well dressed humans, lawyers, became very interested. Despite my advance hearing even I could only make out bits and pieces of conversations.

Words about something of great value, being "one of a pair" intrigued me. Curious despite myself I edged off to the side to get a better view. On the stage the auctioneer stood above a prone body of a man that was bound in chains. I could not see a head much less a face from my view. I knew that there were always tales of "chosen ones" though I had never seen this much interest for many years. The human on stage had some how gotten the mob under control and told of a great battle a few days before.

Champions of "the powers that be" he claimed were captured yet all escaped but one. A vampire with a soul. I knew then why there was so much hysteria as well as the identity of the vampire in question. It would be him, the ever lasting thorn in my side that turned up when you least expected. Spike.

I heard stories whispered by others about William the Bloody, slayer of slayers being "chipped" by an army. Of saving the world, winning the love of Buffy Summers, and such contradicting tales it was hard to believe any of it. I myself have underestimated him once or twice though I doubt Spikes' deeds could merit such incredible tales. An irritation to be certain, one that I have encountered a handful of times and never impressed me to the degree the others droned on about. Though I am unsure of how he could become fresh and blood since our last encounter. Perhaps…

A curse rang out from the stage as he struggled in vain to release himself from the chains. Like always he refused to acknowledge his betters have the advantage and that all too familiar defiance reflected in his eyes. Talk about the ways to use Spike were given by the auctioneer, a few making him shake with fury. The bids were higher than I expected for such a lowly vampire which drove the lawyers into a panic soon for not having enough funds to meet the growing bids.

An appealing idea started to form in my mind at this. If I won the auction I could not only deal with this annoyance personally but have the chance to sell him to Worfram and Hart at a later date for a higher price. The law firms' grudge against both souled vampires was legendary. Money wasn't even an issue as I had investments all over the world. Perhaps he could act as a lure to bring about "Angel" to repay him in full for his crimes as well.

A large demon that had spoke of having Spike as his pleasure slave currently had the highest bid that so far no one had challenged. Just when the demon had convinced himself that Spike was his property I corrected him of the notion by outbidding him. I will never forget how Spikes' furious expression changed to a confused frown. His eyes met mine and he mumbled his favored expression "bloody hell."

Indeed.