Butterfly Catchers – Part II

Angelus let the front-door slam behind him and tossed his overcoat in the general direction of the coat hooks, bellowing ‘William’ up the stairs as the coat slid in a dark heap to the stone flags. He ducked his head under the lintel of the parlour door, the notes of the Handel still soaring in his head.

‘So you’re back.’

‘Ah, you’ve been missing me, darling. I’m touched.’

She was standing in the bay window, apparently staring out into the black void of the garden, the lights of the candles she had lit reflected in the numerous little panes like a small constellation. She had a shawl clutched about her shoulders as if she was cold, but she stood very upright.

‘You said you would be home by midnight.’

With raised eyebrow he threw a lazy glance at the clock in the corner, which stood at nine thirty.

‘Midnight yesterday,’ she said.

‘So, did you have a pleasant day, then?’

He wandered over to the fireplace and watched her out of the corner of his eye while he cut his cigar, saw her toss her head back, her jaw set, eyes narrowed. On either side the sweep of dark velvet curtains, drawn back, framed her like the curtains of a stage. And he waited for her to start properly.

‘So, how old is he now?’

He propped one shoulder against the cracked wooden panelling of the chimney-breast and took a long pull on his cigar, the smoke biting rich and tangily satisfying at the back of his throat, like a snarl. ‘And who would this “he” be, now, darling?’

‘He is nearly four, Angelus.’

He starred at her impassively as he blew the smoke out in a steady stream.

‘I trust you have not forgotten what we agreed upon? You said you would see him properly prepared and presented to the Master as soon as he was four.’

No, she’d said that. And she’d said some time after Will’s fourth birthday, not the day he was four.

‘Angelus! Stop puffing that foul smoke at me and answer the question.’

He removed his cigar very slowly and examined its glowing tip. ‘What question?’

She didn’t quite stamp her foot but a ripple quivered through her skirts. ‘Is William ready to be accepted into the order, or not?’

‘Ah, that question.’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

The cigar tip was a tiny glowing coal, simmering with red menace as it retreated. If he pressed it to her arm he could make a mirror image in her flesh, red and weeping.

‘Well now, I spend several hours every night training him…’

‘No, you spend several hours with him – that is not the same thing. And that is when you bother to come home at all. How do you think he spent his time last night?’

‘Well, I told him to polish my boots.’

‘I am not talking about the menial tasks he has to waste his time on because you expect to be waited on hand and foot.’

Angelus sighed melodramatically. ‘What’s he done now?’

‘Done? He has done nothing. That is my point. If you aren’t standing over him every second he is quite content to idle the entire night away with Drusilla. As you would know if you paid the slightest attention. What has he learnt in the last month? What have you actually taught him?’

He drifted towards the little square piano, plinking a couple of notes from the yellow keys. ‘Well, I’ve taught him how to kill a Trecorde demon.’

‘Angelus! This is not a joke. If the Master finds him unfit he will not even be entered into the order, never mind being accepted for training. And I do not intend to suffer the humiliation of having another fledgling from my family rejected.’

He repeated the notes. ‘Ah, of course, darling.’ How did one play a chord? ‘You’d never want one of us kicked out of the Master’s lair for failing to be sufficiently obsequious.’ He caught her hand before it could connect with his cheek, twisting it down in a wrench that would normally make her smirk and suggest he hurt her some more. Pressing her back against the piano until the old wood creaked threateningly.

‘So you are willing to have your precious boy rejected, are you, Angelus?’

He released her with a snarl. ‘Of course not.’

‘Good.’ She twirled on her heels, her skirts flaring and dancing in the candlelight. ‘Then that is settled. You will write to the minions tonight – I doubt this God-forsaken backwater has an evening postal service but they should still get the letter by tomorrow afternoon. I have located a house in Marylebone that may suit. Then you can—’

‘Oh so that’s what this is about – you want to go back to London. Missing your dressmaker are you?’

‘If I wish to go back to town, Angelus, we will do so. What this is about is ensuring that you buckle down with the boy so that the Master doesn’t stake him on sight.’

‘Which was precisely why we came here – so I could have some peace and quiet with him.’

There was a small thump in the hall.

‘We came here because you were bored with London. And since we have been here, you have claimed that you need to spend all your time hunting and Will needs to spend every spare minute doing all the tasks that we should have the minions for. So what we need, my boy – do not interrupt! – is to be back in London where you do not have those excuses. The house in Marylebone is a good size. Properly fitted out.’ She cast a withering look around the low-ceilinged, dark panelled room. ‘The family will be leaving for Switzerland shortly, they are advertising for someone to take the house in their absence. We should be in London by Tuesday. That gives us time to collect the minions from Bayswater and be in Marylebone for dawn. Five family members, plus a governess and four servants – enough food for a fortnight. Then you can buckle down with him and get him properly prepared in time to leave for the Continent in April. Do you anticipate any difficulties?’

He raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, teaching Will anything in Latin is very slow, you know. He tends not to attend.’

‘Then if necessary you will find him a tutor. That also will not be a problem back in civilisation. Or you can turn one – somebody who is capable of teaching him if you cannot or will not.’

He turned to her with a frowning face, puffing his cigar as if deep in thought. ‘Four servants, you say?’

‘I said four. And I don’t want him just good enough to scrape by, Angelus. He needs taking in hand. Since you refuse to do so, the Master is—’

‘Four?’

‘Four! Angelus, are you listening to me? I want him good enough that the Master will want—’

‘Four’s not many for a house in Marylebone. Not like you to want to stay somewhere second rate, darling.’ From the corner of his eye he could see her lips, tight as a sealed envelope. ‘Of course a London tutor will be very expensive, so with only four…’

‘Angelus?’

‘Yes, darling?’

‘Do you anticipate any actual difficulties?’

The fire crackled cheerfully in the grate, casting warm flickering shadows on the faded oak of the panelling. And he let the thin brass hand of the lantern clock, which was almost as old as she was, tick away a full minute of seconds in which he refused to bow to her demand. Then he turned and bellowed ‘William! Stop eavesdropping and get in here, now!’

She snapped her mouth shut and he smirked at her whilst the door opened slowly.

Angelus threw his cigar into the fire and moved out into the centre of the room to meet him. ‘Where the devil have you been, boy? I called for you a quarter of an hour ago.’

‘Been…’ Will checked from him to Darla and back, his tongue darting across his lips as if tasting the atmosphere of the room. ‘Been with Dru.’

And from the defiant tilt of his head and the nervous shifting of his feet that statement was an outright lie. That or being with Dru had involved something he knew perfectly well Angelus wouldn’t approve of. Angelus just looked at him until with extreme reluctance Will added a ‘Sir’.

‘When I come home, boy, I expect you to be here, in attendance on me, immediately, not playing with your sister.’

‘Wasn’t playing. Sir.’

‘My best coat is being ruined while you lounge around at your leisure.’

Will scowled. ‘Wasn’t playing – I was helping her. And I hung it up.’

‘Did you brush it?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘You are to brush it. And my hat. I suppose there is no hope you did any work last night?’

Will’s scowl deepened. ‘Didn’t know you wanted me to do anything – what with you being out all night.’

‘And this afternoon?’

Will flicked his gaze at Darla again. ‘I was busy helping Dru.’

‘So you say’ He clouted Will, a sharp cuff to the back of the head, the soft hair ruffling under his palm. Will winced and rubbed at it furiously, ducking back as if expecting another one. Angelus put his hands behind his back and caught Darla’s eye. He put on his most pompous tone. ‘William, you know perfectly well that you are not free to do as you please all night.’ Darla’s face was impossible to read. ‘You are nearly four now.’ Darla nodded imperceptibly. ‘You should not need me standing over you with the strap all the time to make you work.’

‘I—’

‘Fetch me a drink,’ Angelus said, and he strode over and turned his back to the fire, feet straddling the hearth rug, hands under his coat tails, blocking the heat from everyone else in the room.

Will looked between him and Darla again. Darla was holding herself a little less rigidly, but she was drumming the fingers of one hand against her arm as she watched.

‘Darla is concerned you haven’t been paying attention to your lessons. Have you?’

‘Yes.’

‘There you are, you see, darling – nothing to worry about. Where’s that drink, Will?’

‘And then you may fetch a Bradshaw, boy,’ Darla said pleasantly. ‘Angelus needs to look up the London trains.’

‘No I don’t.’

Darla’s back went stiff with an almost audible snap. Even Will hesitated, one hand on the decanter, the other holding the glass ludicrously in mid air.

‘And why not, Angelus?’ Darla said.

‘You’re forgetting, darling, I have a very good memory. I’ve no need for a Bradshaw.’

And Will made a small choking sound, quickly poured the brandy and held it out to Angelus.

A low, humming growl came from Darla, lasting while Angelus took a deep swig of his drink and swirled it around his throat. Then she rapped out ‘Come here, boy’ her eyes still fixed on Angelus.

Will hesitated, flicking an uncertain glance at Angelus, then looked at her. Angelus sipped his brandy again, saying nothing, and Will took two steps towards her.

‘I said, come here!’

Will took another two steps and Darla snapped her fingers, pointing for him to stand right in front of her. It was the exact gesture Angelus liked to use himself. Will jerked as if he’d been yanked forward on a string, and even lowered his head and put his hands behind his back when he was in front of her.

Angelus realised he was frowning and stopped himself.

‘He looks like something the cat dragged in, Angelus.’

‘We don’t have a cat,’ Will muttered. ‘You won’t let Dru have one.’

Angelus let his lip quirk.

Darla suddenly snatched Will’s chin between her little fingers and jerked his head up, turning it from side to side. Being so much smaller than him, it looked as if she was examining his throat. ‘Hmm.’ Darla released him. ‘He’s pretty enough, Angelus, but he’s too scrawny. If you’re going to half-starve the fledges you need to make them bigger to begin with.’

Angelus leaned one elbow on the mantelpiece in a bored fashion.

Darla was glaring at Will. ‘Last night you were sent to deliver a letter.’

‘Yes madam.’

‘You were told to run.’

‘Y-yes madam.’

‘Did you?’

Will paused. ‘Yes madam.’

‘If that is the truth then he is still as slow as a new-risen whelp.’

Will was staring straight ahead. Angelus considered the assorted contents of the mantelshelf. The cane wasn’t there, which meant Will must have hidden it again. He could see Will watching him out of the corner of his eye.

‘Can you kill off the vein, boy?’ Darla snapped.

‘What? I didn’t kill anyone last night—’

‘Can you or can’t you?’

‘He can,’ Angelus said.

‘Then why doesn’t he say so? I expect a polite answer to a simple question, boy.’

‘Er…’ Will was scanning Angelus’s expression.

Angelus raised an eyebrow. ‘He can kill off the vein, but not, apparently, recall the term itself.’

‘Yes I can!’ They both looked at him. ‘I know what it means. It means… means to kill somebody… only… off the vein. So not on their veins, just off them.’

Darla looked at Angelus with withering contempt. ‘And do you intend to beat him now?’ Darla asked. ‘Are you going to interpret this stupidity as impertinence that can be adequately dealt with by a few taps of that silly cane?’

‘If I decide to beat him, he will find the cane anything but silly.’

‘Something like that cannot possibly be appropriate for a vampire.’

Will looked surprised but in total agreement.

Angelus examined the play of light on the cut crystal of his brandy glass. ‘To kill off the vein, Will, means to kill a human quickly and cleanly by feeding directly from the vein. To be in such control of the situation that you can locate the killing spot and bite before they realise what is happening. To make the bite deep and clean enough that you do not spray blood all over yourself, your kill, or the surroundings. And to kill so fast that your prey has no time to struggle or call out before dying.’ He took a sip. ‘In short, to kill off the vein. When did you last kill off the vein, William?’

‘Oh. I killed that tinker, sir.’

‘He killed a tinker.’ Angelus picked a small book off the mantelpiece, wondering what it was doing there. ‘Not three days ago, Darla. He is perfectly capable of killing off the vein.’ The book was one of his own, a volume of Italian demonology, hardly the sort of thing Darla normally read for pleasure.

‘At nearly four – that is hardly much of a boast.’

‘The fact remains, he can do it. Stop fidgeting, William.’

‘What’s going on? Why is she…?’

‘How far can you leap?’ Darla snapped.

‘I dunno. I can get to the top of the cathedral wall. Is that what you want to know?’

Angelus made a mental note to find out exactly when he had had occasion to get over the cathedral wall.

‘Could you jump from this house to across the street?’

‘I…’ Will looked at him and Angelus nodded. ‘Yes madam.’

‘You seem very positive.’

‘I could. Er, I would be allowed a run up, right?’

Angelus quickly turned away to hide his smile.

‘Do you know the Twelve Aurelian Incantations?’

‘I know… some of them, madam.’

‘Seven,’ Angelus intoned, at the exact same moment as Will said ‘Four.’

‘I see. And what happened to the other three that Angelus seems too think he’s taught you?’

‘Well I know bits of three more. And maybe some of the others as well.’

‘“Bits” is not good enough, William.’

‘Yeh, I know that. But—’

‘Say the fourth.’

Will gave Angelus a helpless look.

Angelus glared at him. ‘Go on.’

‘The fourth. Right, that’s…, right. Nihil—’

‘Stop at once. Angelus, he doesn’t have his fingers crossed,’ Darla snapped. ‘Boy, do you not know what will happen if you say one of the Twelve without first…’

Will brought his fingers out from behind his back and held them up in what he clearly found a most satisfying gesture. His fingers were indeed crossed. Darla glared.

‘Happy, darling?’ Angelus asked. ‘Not scared he’s going to turn us all into geraniums? Carry on, Will.’

Will smirked and started again. ‘Nihil obstat quominus imprimatur… What?’

‘That, boy, is the third,’ Angelus said and he banged his hand on the mantelshelf. ‘Concentrate.’

Will swallowed and ducked his head. ‘Didn’t she say the third?’ He flicked a quick glance at Angelus, apparently not even slightly optimistic that the lie had been accepted.

Darla gave a little tiger-growl of annoyance.

Will slipped a pace backward.

‘Well I hope you are proud of this performance, Angelus.’ She turned away and seated herself in her favourite armchair, her back rigidly upright. ‘He does not know the most elementary things. He can barely run or leap better than a yearling. He clearly doesn’t know any of the Twelve. I know for a fact how abysmal his hunting is. He is not even approaching ready.’

‘There’s still plenty of time.’

‘I will not be made a fool of!’ The crack of her voice pinged on the air as if an overstretched wire had snapped.

‘Er, what’s going on?’ Will said.

‘Have you not even told him?’

‘Darla! Will is mine.’ He was aware that more of a growl had slipped into his voice than he had intended. ‘I will train him—’

‘Do not make that noise at me!’ She stabbed at Angelus with a poniard of a finger. ‘Nine months ago you assured me that you were preparing him properly.’

‘William, go and wait in my study.’

‘William, stay exactly where you are. Six weeks ago, Angelus, you said that you still needed a little more time. Well you have had that time and he is no more likely to be accepted now than he was on the day he rose. Boy, what exactly has Angelus taught you in the last six weeks?’

‘But of course you never interfere in how I train my fledges.’

‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’

That was going too far and Angelus reached out and grabbed his arm, then cuffed him, three times in rapid succession until Will hung limp and shaking in his grip, head down, fists clenched. ‘Behave,’ Angelus said with quiet venom.

Will looked up at him, miserable, confused and furious.

‘Well, boy?’ Darla demanded.

Angelus waited, curious as to just how Will would answer. After a bit Will reached up and rubbed slowly at his ear where Angelus had clouted him, remaining stubbornly silent.

‘And I think that says all there is to say,’ Darla said.

‘No!’

They both looked in surprise at Will.

‘He has taught me things. He…’ Will straightened up and set his jaw. ‘He taught me the third incantation.’

Angelus bit hard on the inside of his mouth to stop himself laughing.

Darla’s eyes were tinged with yellow. ‘How dare you.’ Will shuffled his feet, presumably assuming the words had been addressed to him. ‘How dare you presume to play me for a fool. Do you think I don’t know what is going on?’ The quivering of her dress as she stalked forwards was sending the candle flames shimmering and dancing on the window-panes behind her. ‘Well, Angelus?’

Very well. He dropped his hold on Will. ‘You are quite right, of course, darling. He really should know better. William, your grandsire has decided you’ve been grossly impertinent and lazy at your lessons. Fetch the switch from wherever you’ve hidden it and go to my study.’

‘What! You—’

‘My study, William.’

Will actually growled, then shouldered past him, not saying a word, and hurled the door open.

‘In this family, boy, children show respect to their elders.’ Angelus called after him. ‘And don’t you dare bang that door.’ He let his eyes drift up to meet Darla’s stone-cold stare. ‘Happy, darling? Did you get what you wanted out of this conversation, now?’ With relish, he tossed back the last of his drink. ‘Good evening, Darla.’

She refused to answer him.