Butterfly Catchers – Part III

The cane whipped down and Will screamed – a hollow, miserable sound, filled with despair. It was actually quite impressive.

‘How many was that?’

‘Nine, sir.’

‘Four more, then, I think. Might as well give you the full vampire dozen since we’ve got this far.

Will shrugged, and Angelus brought the bamboo cane down across the chair seat again, Will obligingly yelling from where he was lounging against the bookshelves, several feet away. He ended in a long, lingering groan on the final stroke and then they both stood for a while, listening. At last the front-door banged in a pointed manner. Darla had left.

‘And let that be a lesson to you,’ Angelus said, shoving the cane back beside the yellowing plant in its pot on the windowsill. ‘Now get the fire lit, it’s freezing in here.’

Will grinned and headed for the fireplace. ‘I never thought she’d fall for it,’ he crowed. ‘Did you see her face when I started the third incantation! I thought she was going to explode. Oh and sorry about the fire. She said I shouldn’t do one for you tonight.’

Typical of her. Never one to let the petty details slip.

‘She said I should go help Dru instead.’ Will started to make his normal phenomenal amount of noise with the coal-scuttle. ‘Also said I mustn’t clean the lamps, so don’t shout at me for that either.’

Angelus, long accustomed to disregarding Will’s babble, started to search through the drawers of his desk. ‘Where’s my sketch-book? Someone’s been moving things around.’

‘Not me. And when you said you didn’t need a Bradshaw! You really said that! God, I wish Dru’d been downstairs to hear that, she’d have loved that. She’s going to be green when I tell her. She wanted to come down but I knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the joke, you know what she’s like, so I told her to wait upstairs till later. I’d better not leave her too long or she’ll start playing with her dollies. But what was she talking about? I mean Darla, not Dru. What’s all this rubbish about entering me? Enter me for what? I’m not a prize pug. Is this something she wants to do when we get back to London, mate?’

Will sat back on his heels, the box of matches in one hand, the poker in the other, and looked at Angelus expectantly.

‘What did you just say?’

‘I…’ Will’s face fell. ‘Sir. I meant “sir”.’

‘London. What did you say about London?’ He hardened his tone. ‘I thought I’d cured you of eavesdropping.’

Will actually gave him a sarcastic look. ‘She told me to help Dru pack: it doesn’t take much thought to work out that means going back home, does it. Besides, she’s been…’ He trailed off, watching Angelus suspiciously.

Angelus could only stare at him, feeling the fury boil up in his breast, feeling the cold tug of hatred for her swirl and pull at his heart. ‘Your home is wherever I am, boy, not London just because we happen to live there occasionally.’

Will still stared at him. Waiting.

‘Hurry up with that fire and then bring me the switch.’

Will struggled with his expression for a second, then spun back to the fire, jamming the poker in fiercely.

Angelus made a show of opening his post. There were several from Harold, in the head minion’s painstaking copybook hand. Master, I beg to inform you… Master, There are several matters that require your urgent… Master, Please… The light in the room was dim, flickering as the oil-lamp guttered inside its chipped shade, sending shadows wavering across the walls and bookcases, turning the writing into a weak brown scrawl. He crumpled each letter in turn and dropped them to the floor.

‘Stop procrastinating, Will.’

Will stood up, snatched the length of rattan from the whip rack over the mantle and kicked out at a letter, scowling. ‘I suppose you want me to pick this lot up after you too, sir.’

‘I want you to behave.’ He held out his hand and Will slammed the handle into it then folded his arms, still glowering defiantly.

‘Darla told me to pack. Not my fault if you two can’t agree when it’s time to move.’

‘Hand out.’

Will swallowed, a momentary reflex, and then managed to produce his couldn’t-give-a-damn sneer. He stuck his hand out.

‘If you leave it like that, I shall cane it like that, and then you will have broken bones and I shan’t let you hunt for a month.’

Will deepened his sneer, but turned his hand palm upwards, slightly cupped, so the flesh formed soft cushions, his thumb tucked neatly out of harm’s way to the side. They had been here many times before.

Angelus rested the cane on Will’s palm, measuring his distance. ‘Look at me.’

Will looked. Jaw set, eyes hard.

‘Every conversation we have at the moment ends this way, Will.’

‘W-well that’s nice for you, then. Seeing how much you love thrashing me.’

‘You don’t need to prove how brave you are to me, lad. I know your capabilities far better than you do.’

Will swallowed again but he kept up his defiant stare. Angelus applied the slightest pressure to the cane, so it pressed into Will’s palm, a hard cream band against the flesh.

‘I don’t—’

‘Be quiet. Stop showing off for five minutes and listen to me. She told you we were leaving?’

‘Yeh.’

‘And that you should tell Dru we were going “home”.’

‘Yes.’

‘She wants you both thinking you want to be back in London. When did she start?’

‘She only told me to pack today.’

‘Maybe. But she started days ago, didn’t she – egging you on, getting you and Dru on her side. Talking about shopping and street urchins to Dru, pubs and theatres to you. What else did she promise you?’

‘Nothing, sir!’

‘Threats then.’

‘No.’ There was a note of contempt in Will’s voice and Angelus thought rapidly.

‘So she’s been dropping hints – saying that it was important we go back. Did she say the hunting was starting to dry up here?’

Will nodded.

Angelus lent forward, looking at Will intently. ‘You are being used, Will. She is using you to get her own way and she doesn’t give a damn if you suffer for it. Look at me. I will not have you used, Will. You are mine, not hers. Mine.’ He paused. ‘And I expected better of you.’

Will’s pointed little face was uncertain now, tinged with misery. He dropped his eyes again, staring at the cane.

‘Did you not even realise what she was doing?’

Will slowly shook his head.

‘What else?’

‘She… she said the minions couldn’t be trusted, sir.’

‘Ah.’

‘She said Harold might make a bid to take the territory for himself.’

‘And do you think he might?’

‘I…’ Will looked at the cane again as Angelus tapped it idly against his palm ‘…don’t know, sir.’

‘No, you don’t. So let me make it simple for you. Do you think I am incapable of judging how long it is safe to leave London for?’

‘No sir.’

‘Good boy. And?’

‘She said… she said you were ignoring me again. She said if I didn’t do something to attract your attention you’d probably forget I even existed. She said you always do that, cos you’ve got the attention span of a… of a… She said I should stop whining about it and do something. Ask you questions. Ask you to train me harder. Ask you to talk about the future and what your plans are for me and… what’s going on.’ It wasn’t quite a question, but Will wouldn’t meet his eye, staring down at the cane as if hypnotised by it.

‘William, who do you trust to make the appropriate decisions for this family?’

‘You, sir.’

‘Whose property are you?’

‘Yours, sir.’ And that was said smartly and with confidence, with the ease of long practice.

‘Mine.’ Angelus could feel the word warm and round on his lips. ‘Hand up higher.’

Will grimaced but did as he was told, still looking at nothing but the cane.

‘You will not let Darla make use of you.’

‘No sir.’ There was the slightest quiver in Will’s hand. Fear? Or simply the tension in his muscles, locked in place.

‘You will not involve yourself in petty schemes to manipulate me.’

‘No sir.’

The cane was pressing a red ridge across Will’s palm, held stiff and firm by the tension between them

‘You will not question my judgement.’

‘No sir.’

Angelus reached in and cupped the back of his neck, drawing him up against his chest, dropping the unused cane to fall on the desk behind them. Against his cheek, Angelus could feel fine hair brushing, lithe young muscles pressed against him, shaking with tension, fear, hurt, passion. He pressed a soft kiss to Will’s temple. ‘Do we understand one another, Will?’

Against his shoulder, Will nodded desperately, and made a small sound that approximated to ‘Yes sir’.

Angelus felt himself shiver.

‘Why?’ Will whispered.

‘Hush, little one.’

‘But what was she talking about?’

Angelus closed his eyes. ‘I do not wish to discuss it.’

Crushed to his shoulder, Will heaved a single, shuddering gasp.

Angelus stilled himself. Stopped his breathing. Letting his fury with Darla leak from him. If she wanted to play games then they would play games. And for that he wanted to be cool. As cold and icily calculating as the bitch herself. And then they would see just who the head of the family was.