"If the Order is to be reborn, let it be now. All this waiting is driving us to madness," another said.
Spike retrieved a pack of Egyptian made cigarettes from a bedside table. "I certainly sympathise with your impatience, believe me I do." He lit the smoke and tossed the pack back onto the nightstand. "But higher powers are calling the shots here and I'm not about to let a case of twisted knickers foul things up."
He blew a cloud of smoke in the their direction.
One of the vampires hissed and bared his fangs. "We swore Malik answers to your commands?"
Spike blew a ring of smoke up into the ceiling fan and watched as the blade dispersed it. "You've a lot of bluster in you, haven't you? Here's the truth, then, and no playing about. Laibach gave me the job. Don't especially want it and if any of you can convince him to give you a promotion and let Dru and I be on our way, I'd be eternally in your debt. And eternity, well, it's an awful long time.
"If you can't talk the big spook into letting me alone, though, well, you'll just have to shut your gob and do what I tell you, before the eldritch power of the Old Ones decides to roast your carcass on the fire of eternity and feed your flesh to maggots. Again and again. Forever."
The vampire who had spoken smiled in terror. "Forget I mentioned it."
