Sweet William

Drusilla wanted to lay him in her bed, on satin sheets surrounded by yellow roses, with the moonlight dancing through the casement to bathe his slight young beauty in an ethereal balm. Angelus took the body down a back alley and dumped it by the river. Some things just had to be done properly.

They attended the funeral, as interested parties, and watched at a distance from their thickly curtained carriage. It was quite a large gathering from what they could see: many, many relatives and business associates of the family, surrounded by a swarm of funeral attendants. The last doubtless trying to justify the enormous expense of the elaborate hearse with fancy finials and feathers, drawn by four black stallions suitably attired with nodding plumes, two coaches and four, numerous mutes, wandsmen, featherman and all the other adornments that delight an undertakers heart. Very few friends. And they discovered his name, when someone who said he was an uncle came over to thank them for attending. Angelus made polite but particular enquiries about all the other mourners, justifying their own behaviour by explaining that his wife and sister had felt too upset to leave the carriage. ‘Naturally,’ the uncle agreed. ‘It was extraordinarily courageous of the ladies to have attended at all: William would have been very grateful.’

William.

Darla snorted loudly into her handkerchief, which the man must have taken for emotional exhaustion because he made civil excuses and went away.

That night, after three days and nights of death, William rose.

Some may rise after a few hours, but a vampire that is to be truly strong, one with the potential to be a future master, sleeps long whilst the demon takes its hold and grows powerful within the body. And when they awake it is as a mighty thunder rolling across the skies.

Angelus had insisted the women stay at home. If William turned out to be a mistake then he could always quietly stake him and claim the turning hadn’t worked. And if he was worth keeping he wanted to be the first member of his new family that the fledgling met. He had come without the carriage as well, since the walk home would give them a good chance to get to know each other and to lay out a few basic rules.

The churchyard was peaceful, the roar of bustling life in the all surrounding city muted to a distant hum. The air was crisp with the last chill of departing winter as it turned on the cusp of the year into spring, leaving a slight pool of mist in the night and the sharp edge of anticipation; of fresh beginnings. Angelus leant back against a tombstone and waited for the first sounds of the new childe beginning to tear his way out into the world. Soon strong young fingers would follow instinct to break free from the wooden shell. Soon.

William opened his eyes, thought, dark? And moved to settle over onto his side; abruptly his shoulder was painfully bashed. There was something immediately above him, far too close. Shocked into full wakefulness he tried to sit up properly in the pitch black and was startled to find his face crushed against cold, slippery satin. His wildly thrown out arms were penned in on every side by an unseen block that was mere inches away. He couldn’t even curl his knees up without something preventing him. He began to flail out in frenzied panic. Everywhere he was enclosed by pulpy, padded cloth, with hardness behind it.

Oh no. Please no. God no. Not that. Not that. No!

He hammered at the lid above him, and opened his mouth, ‘Help.’ It came out as a strangled mumble. He tried again, ‘Help me.’ Still not loud enough. ‘Help. Help.’ Terror overcame reserve. ‘Help! Heeeelp!’ He lay there and waited for a few moments, tears starting to prickle at his eyes. ‘Help me, please,’ he whispered.

He reached up again and shoved against the coffin-lid. There was a small splintering sound and a little give. Hope surged insanely and he pressed harder, producing more splintering and a little cascade of something falling onto his face.

His hands dropped, petrified in fright, the horror of his situation overwhelming him. There must be six foot of heavy damp earth above him: he didn’t have a chance. The abomination that he had never dared to speak of with his mother – he knew that she feared it so much – had actually happened.

He had been buried alive.

And now he really was going to die. Here, trapped in the dark, alone, smothered. Even if he could somehow pull the lid apart one piece at a time the soil would cascade in and choke him as he did so. And if he did nothing the air would soon be exhausted and he would suffocate. Already he could feel a congestion constricting his throat. And driven by the fear his body was instinctively gasping for the air that must be in such short supply.

He was going to die.

How could this be happening? What had he done to deserve this? This couldn’t really be happening to him. Not really. Not to him.

He didn’t want to die.

Please!

He didn’t want to die.

He smashed his fist against the side and the wood gave a great crack. He froze, expecting everything to come crushing in on him, but this time there was no fall of earth. The side! If he could somehow break open the side then maybe he could push the earth back behind him and gradually work his way out. It was an absurd plan but he had nothing else. He quickly rolled over as much as was possible and braced his shoulder against the lid in the hope that that would help keep it supported. There was very little room to manoeuvre but he started to kick at the side-panel, aware all the time that the air could not last long.

The coffin boomed with each kick, making his head ring, but he was using both hands to push as well so he couldn’t cover his ears. There was splitting and tearing as the lining got ripped. Please let them have only bought a cheap, shoddy one, he prayed. Please. Then there was a particularly loud snapping and the side shifted about an inch. He readied himself to have to hold up the lid, took a deep breath, and gave one last mighty blow.

The side flew away and crashed down into the darkness. A rush of fetid, damp air came over him. William shivered and looked tentatively out. It was dark, but not so dark as before. He could see shelves and other coffins. An undertakers? No, the smell was older, more filled with decay: a vault. He gingerly reached his hand round and up and felt the free and open air above the coffin. The earth was just a scattering that had been thrown onto the lid.

He laid his head back and closed his eyes in relief. He was all right. He was going to be all right. A small smile started across his face, which gradually broadened into a grin. In the magnitude of his relief he felt like a god. He was all right!

After a second he swung his legs out and scrambled down to the floor. He straightened up and looked around again. The cramped space was lined with shelves of the dead, crowded to the ceiling on every wall, except for one where narrow stone steps led up to the entrance. A little light was filtering through a chink at the bottom of the door. William studied this with a frown.

Angelus was startled out of his reverie by the crash of the coffin panel hitting the floor and he straightened up and readied himself. He considered going and opening the vault, but decided against. This was an initiatory rite as much as anything else. It was only a pity that the relatives had not opted for conventional burial, he felt it would have done William good to have had to dig his own way out; just as he himself had had to in his day. He was wondering what William would be like, what his first words would be. Angelus secretly longed for a willing disciple, one eager to learn the dreadful games his master delighted to play. But he knew that at first there might well be no speech at all, only the desire: that deeper urge, the craving for the feed that underlay all else. And that was as it should be, because the keenness of the hunger would give Angelus his first heady moments of control over the fledgling, when he alone led him to the dark satisfaction he craved. The master vampire kept still and silent.

It was a surprisingly long time before the solid inner door was pulled open and a pair of cold blue eyes stared out through the ornamental grillwork of the outer iron gate.

‘Hello. Do you have a cigarette by any chance?’ William said. He was watching Angelus’s expression. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not a ghost. But I do rather feel I want a smoke.’

Angelus found his voice. ‘My name is Angelus. I have been waiting for you to come to me. Welcome.’ He held out his hand imperiously.

William rattled the iron door experimentally. ‘This appears to be locked.’

‘You can open it if you try.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous: this lock is almost brand new. Look at it.’

‘Why don’t you try pushing?’

‘Because there isn’t a chance without the key. You will just have to go for help. If you have a piece of paper I will write down the address for you. That is assuming you aren’t—’

‘Why don’t you try!’

William blinked. ‘Well honestly. Look here… Goodness! You’re right you know, it’s shifting.’ He crashed his shoulder against it enthusiastically with a sudden laugh. ‘Who would have thought it! Uncle Robert’s vault made out of brick dust and glue! And he’s so proud of it as well.’ He burst out with a triumphant smile. ‘There! Thank you, I never would have thought that possible.’

‘Oh, many things are possible that you have never dreamed of before, William. Look around you. See the beauty of the night! All this is yours for the taking.’

‘So how are Cholmondeley and Davis?’

Angelus frowned. ‘I do not… Wait, they were at your funeral. They were your friends?’

William snorted. ‘Friends! If I did have a funeral they certainly wouldn’t attend.’

‘I assure you, they were there.’

‘Of course they were. This would be when they told you my name would it? Or are you just very good at guessing?’ He gave Angelus a sarcastic look ‘And now you simply happen to be out for a stroll around the graveyard in the middle of the night.’ He craned his head to look around and shouted. ‘Where are you? I know you’re hiding out there, the pair of you! Ha, ha, very funny, but it didn’t work.’

Angelus growled and fingered the stake in his pocket. Dru would sulk for a few days, but she would soon find another pretty toy to latch on to. ‘William, this is no joke that has been played. You have been given a great and dark gift. Can you not feel the new power coursing through you?’

‘What are you talking about?’ he said with a withering scowl. ‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home.’ And he headed off at a brisk pace.

‘William, come back here.’ The first direct order Angelus ever gave him. And the first he ignored.

With the speed of a master vampire, Angelus caught him up. ‘Do not walk away from me!’

‘Now see here!’ William blazed at him. ‘I don’t know who you are or how they put you up to this, but I’ve had my fill of being the butt of everybody’s juvenile humour. It wasn’t funny being in there and I’ve decided I’m not going to stand for this sort of thing anymore. I’m going home.’

Angelus smiled. ‘They will no longer laugh, William. You need never again care for anything humans say or do, except to listen to their screams.’

‘Er… What?’

‘William, you are a vampire: a hunter of the night. You did have a funeral; I was there. Your family attended: your Uncle Robert, your cousins, various other people, and your friends – including Cholmondeley and Davis. They buried you because you have died to that world. You are dead. And you have risen again as a demon, a vampire, one who walks the earth to suck the blood of the living and hold the true power of evil. You can feel it in you. Feel your new strength and speed; your senses sharper than any mere mortal’s. You are a vampire, a creature more powerful than humans can imagine. You can do anything, go anywhere. Learn from me and I will make you a creature that all other demons will fear. And William, this power can be yours for eternity!’

‘Oh go away,’ William said scornfully.

‘For Christ’s sake, boy! You must have noticed that your eyes are better. Do you think you could have seen like this in the dark if you were alive?’

‘Wh—’

Angelus held up his hand. ‘And what about your hearing? Listen to that caterpillar chewing on a leaf over there. Or that shrew running through the grass chasing a beetle. It is thirty yards away, William: do you really think a human could hear it? But you can, can’t you.’ William frowned and cast a worried look in the direction of the shrew. ‘And the scent. Can you smell your uncle’s pomade? And the soap the undertaker used to clean his gloves for the funeral before he came? They left this place hours ago, but you can still sense them here. And feel, William.’ He enfolded William’s face between his cold fingers. ‘Feel the song of the demon singing in your veins. Feel the hum of the blood of the mortals all around you in this city of evil, feel—’

‘Are you always this pompous or did my friends write it out on a card for you?’

‘For the last time, this isn’t a practical joke! Why would anyone play such a game? This is the most important thing that has ever happened to you, William. You need to understand it. Aren’t there…’ there was the merest hint of regret in Angelus’s tone, ‘aren’t there things you wish to ask me?’

‘No. I’m not interested in your nonsense. I’m feeling more clear headed than I have for… well, ever really, and I’ve made a few decisions. One of which is that I’m not going to be bossed around and bullied any more. And I don’t care if you were sent here by my so-called friends or if you really do happen to just be passing, I want to… want…’ He stopped and frowned.

‘You are a vampire, William, there is only one thing you want.’

‘Shut up!’ William yelled and threw his hands over his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was calmer. ‘Stop it, just stop please. If you had any idea how ridiculous you sound.’

Angelus glared at him and grabbed both William’s hands then pressed the fingers of one against the wrist of the other. ‘And what do you say to this, William? You have no pulse. You are dead.’

William shucked Angelus off impatiently and with a pert look repositioned his fingers where the pulse should have been. Then he looked puzzled and tried the other wrist, then his neck. He chewed his lip. Angelus folded his arms and waited, watching as the youngster looked uncertainly around as the facts at last sunk in.

It took a full minute.

Then William laughed ‘This is incredible. Un-credible too, for that matter. How can this be?’ A slow grin spread across his features. ‘And I feel… I feel wonderful.’ He walked away a few paces then impulsively jumped up onto a tomb top and started to spin around slowly taking in the night. ‘I feel… ebullient, that’s it. And effu… oh, what’s the word? Effrenate!’ He threw his head back and gazed at the stars. ‘I feel strong, and happy and alive for the first time. And yet to do this I had to be dead!’ He grinned down at Angelus. ‘Isn’t that ridiculous!’ He started to spin again. ‘I’m not dead. I’m dead but not dead. I can’t die! Is this how a god feels?’

‘Vampire,’ Angelus said.

‘Yes. So you keep saying. Vampire then.’ He bounded back down. ‘I’m dead! I really am dead.’ He suddenly stopped and faced Angelus. ‘So who are you?’

Angelus remained impassive. ‘I too am a vampire. A master vampire. And to you, William, I am everything.’ And I want to go home, the master vampire thought, get something to eat, get this brat off my hands, and beat Drusilla for a fortnight for choosing him.

The new vampire digested this latest bit of information. ‘That bit about sucking the blood of the living… what exactly did you mean by that?’

Angelus gestured for them to walk as he started once more to explain.

Ten minutes later they were only a few streets away. Angelus had forgotten just how exhausting a fledgling vampire could be. It was twenty years since he had made Drusilla, and she had never been normal to begin with. Besides, he had known her intimately long before he had turned her, which had made things simple for both of them. William was virgin territory.

For two swift-footed demons their progress was hopelessly slow. William seemed content enough to walk with Angelus, although the master vampire had an uneasy suspicion that this was mostly because the youngster hadn’t yet thought about where he was going. But he kept darting off and staring in fascination at leaves or cobwebs, or pointing out irrelevancies on the distant skyline, whilst Angelus talked. Angelus’s statement that William was now his property and that as such nothing less than absolute respect and obedience were expected of him, he didn’t seem even to hear.

‘…and the blood, the blood is more important than anything, because… William, are you listening to me?’

‘What? Oh, yes. It is the most extraordinary thing: look at the back of my hand; I can see every hair as if it were broad daylight. And yet it is quite dark around here!’ He twisted and turned his hand in exultant wonder. ‘You were saying about the blood?’

‘Can you not feel the craving, William? The urge within you?’

‘Well I feel sort of light headed and intense, if that is what you mean. I think I really do want a cigarette. You haven’t got one by any chance, have you? Or a cigar? I seem to be without. Oh look at that moth!’

‘Ignore the damn entomology! You need to feed— What’s the matter now?’

‘I want to go into that pub.’

‘No.’ It took a few seconds before Angelus realised that he was alone.

The pub was thankfully quiet, with only a group of solid faced men playing dominoes and nursing their pints. Angelus narrowed his eyes when he saw that the little idiot had headed straight for the bar. They were still dangerously close to the graveyard; the risk that someone would recognise the supposed corpse was appalling. William had just ordered a pint of porter. ‘I’ve always wondered what it tastes like,’ he said.

Angelus dropped a hand on his shoulder. ‘We are leaving here. Now.’

‘Leave off.’ He tried to shrug him off. ‘I died yesterday and now I don’t need my glasses. I feel happy, I want to celebrate properly. With a drink!’

The barmaid looked up, startled. ‘Hasn’t he already had enough?’

Angelus hissed in William’s ear, ‘You died three days ago. And you are coming with me now.’

‘Three days! No wonder I feel hungry. I want a sandwich as well.’

‘We don’t do food, love.’ The barmaid had stopped pulling his pint and was looking at him with pursed lips.

‘I want a sandwich: I’m hungry! You must have bread and ham, why can’t you just go and make me one, you unhelpful woman?’

She folded her arms ‘Well, really! There’s no need to talk like that! I don’t need to take that from anyone!’

He tried to reach across to the pumps. ‘Look here, at least pull me a pint, you silly—’

‘Oy!’ A man further along the bar, who had been drawing idle patterns in beer on the polished wood, frowned at the rude youngster.

William scowled back and naively uttered the battle cry of drunkards everywhere: ‘What are you looking at?’

‘Don’t you talk to my Mavis like that!’ The man lunged drunkenly at him and William pushed out both hands and shoved him back. There was a thoughtful second of surprise from all parties as the man flew across the room and into the fireplace. William gazed at his hands in amazement. Then he was hauled sharply backwards by the collar, just as the bosom friend of the first man let out an indignant roar and leapt towards him.

Mavis the barmaid took in the situation and immediately called over her shoulder ‘Albert! There’s trouble. Some little bleeder’s started a ruckus and a big mick just knocked Codger for six.’

Angelus had never seen a group of placid drinkers transform so abruptly into debauched rioters as those suburban proles did. Reflecting that dominoes must be a more vicious sport than he had hitherto suspected, he whirled to punch someone who had just hit him in the back with a bar-stool. He realised a fatal second too late that he had let go of William’s collar.

William’s eyes had widened when Angelus started to fight, but he was not to be left a spectator for long. Within a split-second another drinker intent on improving his manners was swinging at him; this knocked him back into someone else, who also took exception and tried to bash him away. After another repetition of such treatment William conclusively lost his temper and charged head down to butt into the nearest opponent. He gave a victorious howl as the man, an elderly clerk who looked to be about seventy, was felled instantly.

Angelus pivoted back from placing a solicitous boot between the legs of Codger, who was rising groggily, to discover with a sinking heart that William had changed into demon-face.

Mavis started to scream.

The situation was now irredeemable so the master vampire made a quick decision and snapped Codgers neck, then hopped over the bar to deal with Albert, who had appeared, carrying a cudgel, to try and restore order. Angelus hurled the body in the general direction of the fray, where William was wildly flailing at anything and everything with a great deal of vigour and very little effect, and then decided to leave him to it. He concentrated instead on mopping up as people tried to escape from the fringes, whilst sincerely hoping that someone would land a few decent punches on the infuriating cub.

Numbers gradually diminished. William, with blood streaming from his nose and his jacket half torn off, was dashing the head of a small wiry man repeatedly against the wall. Almost all the others were either dead or unconscious. Angelus put a restraining boot-heel on the neck of Mavis, who had been crawling towards the door, and turned his attention back to William. ‘Boy! You will stop that this instant!’

The tone must finally have got through to him because he turned round and looked at Angelus, eyes aflame. ‘Who are you calling boy?’

Angelus gave a deep warning growl that made William stare in shock and back off a pace warily. ‘What…?’

‘Silence! Now, you should know what to do. Follow your instincts.’

‘My instincts?’

‘Yes, boy. Feed!’

‘Don’t call—’ He stopped himself and put his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes a little. ‘Why do I…’ He gazed around in confusion. ‘Oh dear. I think my temper must have snapped. Are they all going to be all right, do you think? Shouldn’t we—’

‘There is only one thing you should be doing, boy.’

‘Will you stop calling me boy! My name is—’

Enough was enough, in a heartbeat Angelus had him by the throat and saw with satisfaction the look of fear as William’s eyes bulged and his hands scrabbled whilst his feet kicked helplessly in the air. Angelus shook him hard. ‘Now listen to me and learn. And stop squirming, you don’t need the air.’ The new vampire’s struggles abruptly stopped in amazement. Angelus smiled, but did not let him down. ‘This is the last time I will say this: I am your master, boy, and you will show me respect.’ It was by no means the last time he was going to say that.

The master vampire studied his fledgling hard for a few moments before gradually lowering him. ‘Now, you are not craving a cigarette, or a drink, or a sandwich.’ His lips sneered at the last word. ‘What you need is blood. This is the Hunger, and you must learn how to satisfy it.’ He went and plucked the sobbing Mavis off the floor and stabbed a finger at her jugular. ‘Bite here and drink.’ He thrust her forward expectantly. William was rubbing his neck and scowling. No further response was forthcoming so with another low growl Angelus gave a quick demonstration, pulling away after a second or so to glare at William. ‘Like that.’

William drew a thoughtful finger under his nose and studied the woman with that slight tilt of his head that Angelus would come to know so well. He absent-mindedly licked the blood off his finger and then froze, gazing at the digit in shock. A second later he had lunged at the barmaid’s throat and was suckling like a bull-calf.

Angelus sighed with relief and went to check on the bodies, slaughtering a few survivors before selecting one for his own meal. He ate quickly, keeping a wary eye on William, who was still sucking noisily and inefficiently; ready to talk him through the difficult process of returning to his human face. That was something that many fledglings had a great deal of trouble with at first but, to Angelus’s gratification, when William finally let the corpse drop he was already changed back. Angelus allowed himself the first glimmer of satisfaction with the new vampire. He had managed to get himself covered in blood though.

William prodded the woman with his shoe, flipping a limp hand back and forth. ‘I think she’s dead.’ He gazed around thoughtfully. ‘I’ve just killed someone. Several people in fact. So did you. Well, you killed rather more than me, I think.’

‘Yes.’ Angelus smiled playfully when he saw William frown. ‘Why, William, is something the matter?’

‘No, not at all. I just feel a bit… odd. We’ve killed all these people and, well the thing is, it felt wonderful drinking like that: I had no idea. Only I’ve never done anything even remotely like this before.’ He looked at Angelus worriedly, ‘What are we going to do now?’

‘I am going to put my feet up. You, on the other hand, are going to deal with the mess.’

‘But you don’t understand. This is – this must be – wrong.’

‘That’s what you feel is it? You’re sure it’s not merely what you have been taught to feel? You’re saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?’

‘No! I mean, that is, yes. Of course I… Why did I… Oh Lord.’ He hung his head. ‘The fact is, and I think I can admit this to you because when all is said and done you were doing it too: but I rather think I had fun.’

‘And that is as it should be. You will never feel anything for a human again, except hunger and contempt.’

‘No! How can that be?’

‘Come over here.’ Angelus bent over the last survivor, who was moaning faintly, he produced a clasp knife from his pocket, opened it with a well-practised gesture, and held it to the man’s eye. ‘If I press down now, what will happen?’

‘You’ll puncture his eyeball.’

‘And how do you feel about that? Do you feel sorrow? Disgust? That you should try to prevent me?’

‘Well of course I should prevent you! That is a human being there. It’s… Well it’s the brute that bashed me on the nose, now you mention it.’ He thought about it for a bit. Angelus watched him carefully and, when he judged the moment to be right, pressed down.

William tilted his head again.

When the dying screams had faded, Angelus cleaned the knife carefully and snapped it shut. ‘We are demons. Killing is our art. Compassion, remorse, love, all these are weaknesses which you left behind when your human soul died. You will never be burdened with them again. From now on there is nothing but the hunt and the kill. And if you ever try to do anything like this again, without my express permission, I will break you into pieces so small you might as well be dust. Is that clear?’

‘Why should I need your—’

Angelus seized him by the throat. ‘Is that clear?’

There was something approximating to a nod.

‘Good.’

‘…poofis…’ William squeaked.

‘What’s that? What did you call me?’ He released him just enough to talk. ‘If you just said what I think you did…’

‘Policeman,’ William coughed out, and he pointed over Angelus’s shoulder. Except that by the time Angelus had looked round he should have used the plural because seemingly half the local constabulary were piling in through the door.

An important skill honed by a master vampire was the ability to make a rapid and realistic assessment of the likely risks. Angelus knocked William unconscious, slung him past the bar, and was soon dragging him out of the back door and up onto the rooftops via a convenient privy, as fast as only a master vampire could move.

After half a mile he slowed down to a steady walking pace with a grim look on his face. He settled the new vampire more firmly over his shoulder. Drusilla had a lot of explaining to do.

Darla looked up with interest when Angelus stalked in and dumped his burden on the drawing-room floor. He opened his mouth to bellow but was prevented by Drusilla dashing past him and flinging herself to her knees beside the still unconscious William. ‘You got him! Oh Angelus, thank you, he’s perfect, just what I wanted. Ooooh, he’s all covered in cuts and bruises. And lots and lots of blood.’ She snuggled up to the still body. ‘Has he been naughty?’

‘What did you do to him?’ Darla asked. Angelus had started to slam open cupboards and throw out the contents. ‘Angelus, what are you looking for?’

‘Chains.’

‘Why?’

‘So I can chain her up to watch whilst I stake him.’

Darla sighed. ‘Darling Angelus, a word?’ She crooked her finger and led the way out of the room. She shoved him against the wall. ‘There is no point in us deciding that Drusilla should have a playmate if you are going to kill whoever she chooses within a few hours. We want to enlarge our family, not fill the dust-bin.’

He growled. ‘I will stake a hundred of her fancies if I wish to. And this one is nothing but a pest. I had to kill an entire tavern full of people just to get him home. So now I am going to torture him in front of her.’

‘Angelus!’ She rapped him on the chest. ‘If you were going to object then you should have supervised her choice more closely. What happened in the pub?’

‘The little fool picked a fight and then went into demon face in full view. I had to kill them all to cover it up. We are trying to quietly maintain a territory here and that is exactly the sort of publicity we can do without. It’s going to be in all the morning papers.’

‘Bah! They will put it down to an escaped lunatic or criminal gang squabbles.’

‘And what about the neighbours? This sort of thing stirs up trouble, we have our reputation to think of.’

‘The vampires will understand, everybody knows fledglings can be volatile. The demons…’ she dismissed them with a wave. ‘You’re letting yourself get upset over nothing. I don’t know why you didn’t just send Drusilla to fetch him home.’

‘Darla, I am going to have to put up with this whelp in my household: do you really think I’m not going to show an interest?’

She sighed. ‘Well, I suppose so. But not too much interest mind. The whole point of this is for us to have more time together. Now,’ she played with the buttons of his waistcoat, ‘why don’t we go upstairs and celebrate the new addition?’

Angelus went and stuck his head round the drawing-room door. ‘Drusilla, Darla and I are going upstairs. Look after the boy. Explain to him about sunlight and so forth, when he wakes up.’

‘I couldn’t find any pretty roses,’ she replied.

Drusilla had arranged William neatly, with somebody’s small intestine draped elegantly across his neck like a glistening scarf, and a wobbly lung on each side. The heart was peeping out between his legs. ‘There are dancing bits of metal inside his head and the sky is painted orange.’

‘That’s nice, dear,’ Darla said acidly.

‘When will he rise, Daddy?’

‘He already has. He’s just unconscious.’

She scowled and leant to slap William’s face. ‘Wake up!’

For the second time that night William opened his eyes. He started to sit up, exclaimed in surprise and knocked the guts aside. ‘What’s this?’ He looked around suspiciously. ‘Now where am I?’

‘Hello, Sir Doglet.’

‘Er, hello. Who are you?’

Drusilla looked at him fondly. ‘We are your new family.’

William shook his head. ‘This is all insane, quite insane.’

‘Don’t you remember Dru, William?’

‘No. Should I? Oh hang on, wasn’t there something about fish? What did you mean by new family? I have a family.’ He faltered. ‘Except they all think I’m dead. Which I do seem to be. So what now?’

‘Let’s see the rest of you then,’ Darla said.

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘Your face, William, your demon visage.’

‘Like when you drank, boy.’

‘Your great big naughty teeth.’

They all three demonstrated in unison.

‘Oh that. I can’t do that. Can I?’

‘Of course you can. Try.’

William tried. He gaped, gagged, gaped again, started to bite the air and creased his forehead. Dru began giggling, her face still in full demon form.

‘Shake your head, William,’ Darla instructed. He tossed it violently to no effect.

‘Look inside yourself, boy, let the rage build up.’

William screwed his eyes together in concentration, but nothing else happened. Angelus snorted and Dru burst out laughing. Only Darla seemed unmoved. ‘It doesn’t matter. Lots of fledglings have trouble at first. Not being able to hide it would be far more of a problem. He managed to feed, didn’t he, Angelus?’

‘Oh he guzzled like a porker when he’d finally worked out what he wanted.’

‘Then not to worry.’

‘Who are all you people?’ William said crossly. ‘I am very confused.’

Angelus growled. ‘So learn to pay attention. I am Angelus: you will address me as Sire. This is Darla, who you will call Madam. The only insane one is Drusilla.’

‘Sire! I’m not calling anybody Sire!’

Angelus leaned over and casually gave him his first vampire cuff, which hurled him across the room to crash against the wall. ‘Oh, you will, boy. You will.’ He took Darla’s arm. ‘Come along, my love, let’s leave the little ones to play.’

William pushed himself stiffly up. ‘Don’t call me boy,’ he muttered.

Two hours later Darla and Angelus were interrupted by the screams.

Angelus threw on a dressing gown and pushed his way through the gaggle of panicking minions clustered outside Drusilla’s room. He strode in and grabbed his childe’s wrists, twisting violently until she was forced to drop the red-hot poker she was methodically applying to her forearms. He kicked it out of her reach, trying not to gag at the stench of burning flesh. The poker rolled across a blue studded-leather collar and leash, and clinked against an upturned china dog-bowl that was sitting in a pool of blood.

‘Get out!’ he roared at the minions still peering in the doorway. ‘Dru, be quiet.’ He shook her roughly but she carried on screaming.

Darla appeared. ‘What has the little lunatic done now?’

‘Burnt herself again. Come and hold her.’ He dragged the sheet off the bed and ripped it into strips with one hand and his teeth, holding the yelling Dru around the waist with his other arm. ‘Darla, come and help!’ He started to bandage the blistered, weeping wounds, tightly and efficiently, whilst Darla held his childe down.

‘The whole point was that we wouldn’t have to go through this sort of performance again,’ she complained. ‘Drusilla, will you shut up. You’re going to have to gag her, Angelus.’

It took almost an hour to deal with Dru, and Angelus was not smiling when he left the room. ‘Allwood!’ The Head Minion came running and gave a terrified bow. ‘Where is my new fledgling?’

‘He left, Master. Before Mistress Drusilla started to… to…’

‘To scream her lungs out because he’d gone. Where did he go?’

‘I don’t know, Master. You never gave instructions that he should be stopped. We did not think that—’

‘Idiots. Fetch the others. And my coat.’

He sent the minions off in every direction, planning himself to retrace his steps in case William had tried to return to his Uncle Robert’s home.

‘It will be light in a few hours,’ Darla remarked as he left. ‘Do you think Dru told him about the sunlight?’

They searched for the rest of the night and found no sign.

Angelus returned last, as the dawn was breaking. It was going to be a hot, clear, spring day; if William were not under cover, he would be dead within a few minutes.

The morning hours were passed in recriminations. Angelus systematically flogged every single one of the minions, whilst Darla berated him for having shirked his own responsibilities.

‘How can you blame them if you don’t make your instructions clear? And you should have locked him in on his first night, not left him alone with that imbecile.’

‘And why did I leave him, you whore? If you hadn’t dragged me off because you can’t keep your hands to yourself for five minutes, then none of this would have happened.’

‘Since when am I responsible for your mistakes?’

And on and on.

At ten o’clock there was a knock at the front door. Charles, the youngest minion, dragged his way to the hall and peered out.

‘…and if you treat my maid like that, she will be no use for a week.’

‘M-Master…’

‘Well perhaps having to do your own hair will get the message through.’

‘Master, please…’

‘If you go on like this, Angelus, they will all leave. No wonder we have servant problems.’

‘The only servant problem we have is that they’re useless blockheads. What?’

‘P-please, Master. The door—’

‘Well for Christ’s sake answer it!’

‘Charles did, Master. They killed him. There are six demons in the house.’

It seemed the neighbours had come round to complain after all.

Darla came down the stairs, pulling her gloves on. ‘Angelus, half an hour!’ She paused to pat her hair in front of a decapitated demon head on a spike in the hall.

‘Excuse me, Mistress.’ Allwood and another minion came past carrying a large trunk.

‘Be careful of that: my Venetian dressing set is in that one.’

‘Crave pardon, Mistress.’ The vampires crept out of the front door with exaggerated caution.

Darla followed to supervise the loading of the trunk and bumped into William standing on the doorstep, peering inside. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘Good evening. Um, are you leaving?’

‘Yes. Angelus!’ she shouted back into the house. ‘Your fledgling’s turned up.’ She turned back to William. ‘You are in my way.’

He took a quick side step and she swept down to where the carriage was waiting whilst the minions piled on trunks and boxes.

Angelus appeared in the doorway with folded arms.

‘Good evening,’ William said again. ‘Mr Angelus, may I… may I speak to you, please?’

Angelus stood aside and gestured for William to enter. William’s eyes widened when he saw the state of the hall. Furniture was smashed, the panelling split by deep gouges, the curtains and even the wallpaper torn; the floor was streaked with black and yellow demon blood, overlain with a sprinkling of ash. The severed heads and limbs of six demons were displayed around the room, with the stinking torsos piled in a corner.

‘What happened?’

‘Briefly, William: you did. The sort of game you played in that tavern attracts unwanted attention for the entire demon community. These six were the advance party from the local clan of Avelar demons, who came round to remonstrate with us. That is why two of my minions are now dead and I am having to move the entire household before the rest of the clan turns up. What did you want to talk to me about?’

William gazed about the hall again. ‘Er, I wanted to ask a few questions.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Could we… Um, is there somewhere quieter?’

Three minions came back in to fetch more luggage. ‘Excuse me, Master.’

‘Beg pardon, Master.’

‘Excuse me, Master William.’

‘Did he just say Master William?’

‘Yes. Your questions?’

‘Oh.’ He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. ‘Well you did something to me the other night: you say you changed me into a vampire. And now I can’t do things. I can’t go out in the sunlight and I can’t get into my home. And I feel stronger and yet different in myself and—’

‘Come with me.’ Angelus went up the stairs without further explanation and led the way along the landing. He held a door open. ‘In there.’ William was suspicious, but went in.

Drusilla lay on the bed, a pool of inky black against the sheets; she was curled up in a little ball, a doll clutched tightly in one arm. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but the dried tear tracks were clearly visible on her pale cheek.

‘I had to knock her out to stop her screaming, after you went,’ Angelus said flatly. He went over to the bed and rocked her shoulder ‘Dru, wake up. William has come home.’

She opened her eyes instantly and looked straight at William. ‘Bad puppy! Are you going to punish him, Angelus?’

Angelus sat down on the bed beside her. ‘He isn’t a puppy, Dru, or a kitten. He is a vampire. His name is William. And if you want him to stay you are going to have to be nice to him.’

‘But he ran away! That’s not allowed.’

‘He is too young to know any better, Dru. You do still want him, don’t you? To be your new little friend? We talked about this, Dru, remember.’

Angelus got up again. ‘William, if you leave the house again without my permission you will be punished, and I will put a chain on you until you learn. Now stay here and help Drusilla to pack her things. I will answer your questions when I have more time. We are leaving in half an hour.’

William opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again as Angelus walked past him and left.

Dru was scrubbing the tears off her face with the back of her hand, like a sleepy six-year-old. ‘Why do we have to leave?’ she asked softly. ‘Nobody ever explains anything to me.’

‘He, that is, Angelus, said something about a demon clan. Abetar or Avelar or something.’

‘Oh.’ She sat up and patted the bed. ‘Come and sit with me, William.’ He looked at the bed, but didn’t sit. Drusilla’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘You don’t like me! No! You’re supposed to love me!’ She suddenly changed into her demon face. ‘I hate you!’ And she started to sob again.

‘For heaven’s sake.’ William darted over and dropped to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hand. ‘Please don’t cry. Calm down.’

She stopped instantly with a self satisfied little smile. ‘What a brave knight you are. So you will be my best little dog after all?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure what I am any more.’ He plumped himself down on the bed beside her. ‘It’s Drusilla isn’t it? Your name is Drusilla. Like Caligula’s sister. The one he used to…’ He coughed.

Dru was looking very puzzled. ‘But I’m Drusilla. And I don’t know anybody called Caligula. I don’t think you should be called Caligula. It’s a silly name. Choose something nicer.’

‘Well my name is William.’ He looked up and met her thoughtful gaze. ‘You know you do have the most beautiful eyes. Oh! I do beg your pardon.’

‘What colour are they, William?’

‘They’re, why they’re… Hang it all, they’re just eyes.’ He leant over, making a dive for her lips, but she pulled back sharply and gave him a slap on his cheek.

‘No! Not until I say so.’ He blinked and looked very annoyed. ‘I’m the big sister, William. Daddy says so. And he says you have to do as I want.’

‘Your father? I don’t think I’ve met your father.’

She looked confused. ‘But… but, William, you just spoke to him.’ She suddenly squeezed her head as if she felt it was about to burst. ‘I saw you. I’m sure I just saw you speaking to my Angel. I did. I did. I’m sure of it. It was real. It really was real this time. He said I could have a playmate, and I chose you, and you are to be my little William and love me and hurt me when Daddy can’t, and it was all going to be so much fun. It was.’

‘Please don’t be upset! Not again. When you say Daddy, do you perhaps mean Angelus?’

‘Well of course, silly.’

‘Oh, well then I did speak to him.’

‘Are you going to be good and do naughty things with me then? We can play and kill things, just like a proper brother and sister.’

William stood up and fretfully started to pace the room. ‘What is wrong with you? Why are you people playing this elaborate game? You’re not my sister. I have sisters, four of them; only I can’t get in to see them. I can’t get past the front door. And when the sunlight fell on my hand it started to smoke.’ He showed her the pink skin. ‘Angelus keeps telling me that I’m a demon now, a vampire, but I don’t know what that means. And he’s treating me like a child. I’m not a child, I’m twenty-seven. I’m a grown man for heaven’s sake! I work for Thompson Westerling and Hunt, in the export section. I like to spend my holidays cycling and reading; my favourite book is Morte D’Arthur, Mallory of course, not Tennyson. Although Tennyson is quite good.’ He frowned. ‘I have four sisters and a pet dog, my mother can’t ever get the right amount of starch in my collars, and I hate boiled eggs. My name is William.’ He beat his clenched fist against his side. ‘I know my name is William. But all I can think about is how much I want to feed again like I did with Angelus last night. What on earth is happening to me?’

‘Poor little William. You don’t understand either. And you do like to understand, don’t you. You pretend not to, but you want people to see the real you; only you don’t know which one that is.’

He blinked. ‘I remember you. You knew things about me. You understood. After… after Cecily, you understood.’

‘I can see you, my bright boy. I know which one you are and which you are going to be. Hush.’ She put her finger to her lips. ‘Shall I tell you a secret? You can be whichever one you want now. Don’t tell Angelus, he will be very cross.’ She held out her hand. ‘You may kiss me now.’

He looked at the elegant white hand, extended like something out of a fairy tale romance of knights and damsels. My name is William, he thought to himself. I am absolutely positive that my name is William. She is quite insane. And I am still William.

Please don’t let me be going insane.

He shut his eyes for a second. Oh God. What if I’m still in the coffin and I’ve gone mad with fear.

When he opened them an ugly demon-faced minion with foul breath was standing in front of him. ‘Master William?’

He breathed out heavily. ‘Yes?’

‘The Master said I was to fetch Mistress Drusilla’s luggage.’

‘Bother. It’s not ready yet. Come on Dru, we’d better be quick.’

William was quiet in the carriage. He sat morosely staring out of the window, trying to ignore the feeling that the others were watching him. He had been brought some fresh clothes before they left, replacements for the hopelessly torn and bloodied suit he had been buried in. The new ones were expensive and didn’t fit him as well as they should have, and he was being very careful not to wonder where they had come from. He didn’t ask a single question either.

The carriage stopped in a quiet residential street, where Angelus got out with Dru to go and do something that he described as her ‘party trick’. Darla sat and drummed her fingers on the window whilst they waited, and William kept as far away from her as possible. They didn’t speak.

After some time there was a whistle and the coachman moved the carriage along the road and pulled up outside a large house, well set back from the street. Darla went and looked it over with a critical eye. ‘It will have to do I suppose. Come along, William.’ He trooped after her up to the door.

Angelus was waiting for them with a huddled, pathetic, human girl at his feet; she was still dressed in her nightgown, her hair twisted up with rags to try to make it curl. He kicked her. ‘This is Darla, invite Darla in.’

‘Please…’ the girl sobbed ‘please come in, Darla.’

‘And William.’

‘Please come in, William.’

Darla ignored her and breezed in. ‘There had better be a decent bedroom this time, Angelus.’

‘Let’s go and find out, my love. William, you can do this: make her invite everybody in as they arrive.’

‘Why?’

‘Why – what?’

‘Why invite them?’

‘Why invite them – what, William?’

William gritted his teeth. He was going to have to say it, sooner or later. ‘Why must she invite them in, Sire?’

Angelus smirked. ‘We all know the value of good manners, William. We vampires only enter a house if we’ve been invited by a member of the household. Fortunately servants count. Even tweenies.’ He gave the weeping girl another kick as he went past, then linked arms with Darla and went off to explore.

William knelt down. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Emily, sir. Please, sir, please help me. That man: he is a fiend. A fiend, sir.’

‘Yes I know. How did he get in?’

‘I was just fetching a glass of water before going to bed, sir, and there was a knock on the door. And Mr Woodborough, the butler, he went to answer it, and I heard a woman talking, so I slipped to the end of the passage to see who it was. And he just said, “come in” and she… she…’ Emily broke down in sobs.

‘But why did he let them in at this time of night, Emily?’ He shook her shoulder. ‘Emily, why?’

‘I don’t know, sir. But her eyes, when she came after me, her eyes were… I couldn’t look away!’

‘Yes. I remember.’

‘Oh please help me, sir. I’m so frightened.’

‘I think I am as well, Emily. And angry, and happy, and quite extraordinarily alive. You know, Emily, you and I have a lot in common. We are both experiencing something so beyond the bounds of normal human occurrence that it is quite frankly untenable to the ordinary mind. I’m pretty sure we’re both in some sort of mental shock. For example, I—’

There was a pointed cough from outside.

‘Oh. This is Allwood. Invite Allwood in, Emily.’

He spent the next hour standing in the hall of his new home, extracting invitations and answering damn fool questions from the minions about where to unpack the luggage. If it hadn’t been for the crying girl at his feet it would have been little different from when his family went on their annual trip to Brighton. By twelve o’clock the household was at least in, if not settled, William knew the names of all the minions, and he had a fair idea about which were dolts and which could be trusted to use their common sense. Emily had finally fainted at about half past eleven, but since everybody had been invited in by then it didn’t seem to matter much. Allwood had appeared and dragged her off. William was left alone.

He looked around. The hall was still strewn with packing cases but they did not detract from its elegant proportions. A large curved staircase swept up to a landing from which doors led off to the drawing-room and sitting-rooms. Another flight of stairs then led up to the bedrooms. The ground floor had a large dining-room on one side and a library or study on the other. Straight ahead there was access to a grand conservatory looking out over the garden. The kitchen and other offices were somewhere down in the basement. It was spacious, but a standard town house for all that; not unlike Uncle Robert’s in fact. William had been in dozens like it. He went and stood looking into the conservatory; well under the landing of the staircase, out of sight from anybody upstairs. There were orchids hanging from the iron and glass roof, their strange waxy white blooms rising stiffly up on arched stalks, almost too perfect to seem real. The heady spice of pollen filled the air.

Drusilla was standing in the centre of the floor, gazing in awe at a small pot shrub with pink flowers. Her shawl had fallen off her shoulders and lay in a red swirl around her feet. She had let her long black hair fall loose as well, in a shimmering inky curtain down her back.

He had never known that anyone could just stop and look with such intensity at anything. It was as if she was soaking in every cell of the little plant. Every pore and shimmering minute hair, the delicate flush at the base of each blossom and the sparkling drops of water at the tip of each curled leaf.

She was quite the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

He heard voices above him.

‘You can’t go out, we’ve only just arrived.’

‘All the more reason to go.’

‘You always do this, Angelus. You are head of the household, you should be here to supervise.’

‘If I don’t do this soon, he’s going to run.’

‘Then have someone lock him up until we’ve settled in. I’m not doing everything by myself.’

‘Nonsense, Darla. Who knows what sort of idiot Dru’s chosen this time? I need to deal with him.’ There were footsteps on the stairs. ‘You know we’d only be in the way. This is a women’s sort of thing. I’d probably tell them to unpack your hat boxes in the kitchen or something.’

‘Angelus, don’t you dare set foot out of that door!’

He laughed. ‘See you in the morning, my love.’

There was a noise somewhere between the growl of a she tigress and the sound William’s mother made when someone broke a teacup; followed by the bang of a door being slammed. William found himself looking into the dancing eyes of the master vampire whom he apparently now had to consider his sire.

‘Come here, William. Time for your first hunt.’

Climbing and swift running, balancing along the roof-ridges, and the exhilaration of the moment when he discovered he could jump clear from one building to the next. It was the closest thing to flying, with the dark night air rushing clean around him and the brilliance of the stars overhead, and the few people on the streets nothing but insignificant pinpricks far down below.

Angelus selected a homeless girl sleeping in a doorway, and positioned him so the girl was scared awake and flushed along the street. Then they chased her from the rooftops, driving her to left or right with sudden noises and appearances, until she was ready to drop and Angelus streaked out ahead and trapped her. He held her until the laughing William caught up, then demonstrated the death embrace and the kill. He made no comment when William sucked her blood still in his human face, and only gave a slight growl when the fledgling got some on his fresh shirt.

‘You’ve got to appear harmless, William. You can’t blend into a crowd if you look as if you’ve just stepped out of a butcher’s shop.’

‘Oh. Sorry, Sire.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Not tonight. Do you want to try again?’

William licked the smears off his lips and nodded.

Angelus chose again, another street child, a young boy this time; but half an hour later it was William who made the final rush and, fairly cleanly and with only a little struggle, he achieved his first capture and proper kill. He grinned; and, with Angelus’s bemused permission, cut off one of the child’s buttons for a souvenir, after he had fed. Then he turned solemn as his new sire daubed streaks of blood across his cheeks, before they dragged the body off for the Thames to sweep away from wondering eyes.

On the way home, Angelus threw his arm across William’s shoulder; and William didn’t shrug it off.

So the new experiences kept piling up in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion that kept his heart singing like a god’s. He raged, and he fed, and he wondered at the fire that was in him. And he wondered if he should feel ashamed.

Angelus took them all out hunting every night, but he was free to do whatever he chose the rest of the time. As the youngest childe of the blood family he had no responsibilities and was treated with automatic respect by the minions. Though he quickly discovered that he was expected to look after himself far more than he had ever had to do before. The minions were there to provide muscle and prestige, but they were not efficient servants. And anyway he wasn’t allowed to give them orders. If he wanted a fire in his room or hot water for washing, then he had to fetch them himself, so before long he didn’t bother.

On his first night he had actually asked what time breakfast would be and a second later felt an absolute idiot when he realised just what he’d said. But, relieved from the petty tyranny of regular mealtimes, time imposed no structure. There was no need even to get up if he didn’t choose to. And without the intrusion of servants continuously coming in and out he started to loll around half dressed, smoking in his room, sitting well back from the window and watching the butterflies in the garden dance in the sunlight. Before long he wasn’t even worrying about dressing properly when he wandered around the rest of the house. He very quickly decided that convention and stiff collars could go hang, so when they went out he wore what he pleased, unless Angelus insisted on some particular costume to blend in where they were hunting. The simplest way to have clean clothes was to take them from the cupboards left by the previous owners of the house. Or off a victim.

The proper owners of the house were away touring Switzerland and the Rhine, according to the information which had been extracted from the servants they had left behind and who were now providing a reliable food source while they all settled into the district. Word was put out around the neighbourhood that they were renting the house in the Philpot’s absence. So Darla and Drusilla had great fun playing at calling on all the neighbours one heavily overcast morning, and they received return visits for the next day or two. But interest fell off when the weather improved and they couldn’t make any further calls.

William wasn’t allowed out on his own. He asked to go once, but when Angelus asked just what he was going to do, he couldn’t produce a sensible reply. Angelus smiled like a put upon but indulgent uncle. ‘I know what you’re wanting to do, my boy. You want revenge on your family. We all do. Have patience: when the time is right, we will do it together. When you walk into that house again I want it to be with the deadly confidence of a skilled vampire and the understanding to reap your revenge to the full. First you have much to learn.’

‘But—’

‘No!’

And he had started to grow wary of Angelus’s fists.

Something would be explained patiently enough once, but if it had to be repeated then the second time it would be backed up with a blow. And there was no question of trying to dodge because he never even saw it coming; then by the time William had picked himself back up the master vampire would have strolled on down the street as if it were as insignificant as swatting flies.

After it had happened a few times William didn’t get up, but sat there, wondering what on earth he could do about the situation. Angelus had stopped about a hundred yards away and was leaning over the railings beside the river embankment, whistling and watching the Thames. William pushed himself to his feet and walked back to him slowly. ‘I don’t think you’re going to hit me anymore,’ he said steadily.

‘Aren’t I, my boy? Why not?’

‘I think you should just stop. I’m not a child and it is entirely unnecessary. We are both grown men and we should be able to get along in a civilised fashion.’

Angelus laughed. ‘That’s very funny, William. Quite the comedian, you are.’

‘I mean it, Angelus.’

Next thing he knew he was being held by the throat; pushed back half over the railings. ‘Who am I?’

William flailed; he couldn’t answer, though, because the hold was too tight. Angelus smiled and let his throat go so he toppled further back, but at the last second before he tipped over entirely grabbed him by the shirtfront. ‘Who am I, boy?’

‘Sire! You’re my sire.’ He was horribly aware of the swift black water streaming along below him. There wasn’t a soul around who he could call to for help.

‘That’s right, William. And who are you?’

‘I’m— I’m whoever you say I am, Sire.’

‘Very good, boy! Now tell me: do you like feeding?’

‘Yes.’

There was a raised eyebrow.

‘Yes, Sire.’

‘Then don’t you think you should be grateful that I’m teaching you how?’

‘Yes, Sire.’

‘I don’t have to. I can always let you starve until you work it out for yourself. Would you like that?’

‘No, Sire.’

‘So you are grateful for my lessons?’

‘Yes, Sire.’

‘Don’t you think it’s very rude of you to complain about how I teach them, then?’

‘Yes, Sire. I’m sorry. But I won’t do it again. Please let me up.’

‘Hmm, I might. I rather like the look of you like this.’

‘Please, Sire.’

Angelus let him go again and snatched him up a second later with another laugh. ‘Why are you looking so worried, William? I’ve got you. Don’t you trust me?’

‘Please, Sire.’

‘Whose boy are you, William?’

‘Yours, Sire.’

‘That’s right. Mine.’ Again he let him fall back and caught him just in time. ‘Whose are you?’

‘Yours, Sire. I’m your boy, Sire. Only yours.’

At last Angelus pulled William safely back over the railings and set him on his feet; then he suddenly yanked him forward and kissed him full on the lips. ‘I love it when you’re scared, William,’ he said when he was done. William didn’t answer.

The next time Angelus hit him he just quietly picked himself up and carried on. He learnt not to make his sire repeat himself.

Angelus’s attentions, combined with the inevitable rough and tumble of the hunt, meant that he was nearly always covered in small cuts and bruises. He whined a bit at first, but Dru taught him to lick them clean and he soon found he forgot all about them. His soft hands started to toughen up from scrambling up moonlit walls and over soaring rooftops in the deep mysterious hours of the night. And he discovered odd things about his body, such as the fact that his fingernails were rather sharper than they had been, and he didn’t seem to sweat much. He’d never been very careful about his appearance, but without even the occasional reminder of a reflection it soon deteriorated rapidly. Especially since Dru had a tendency to jump on him unexpectedly and ruffle his hair, then run away yelling, ‘Catch, William!’ She seemed to think this was training him how to hunt.

Dru was a wonder though. They romped through the house together like untamed hell-cats. On the second evening in the new home she had collected up every single wine-glass she could find and taken them to the top of the staircase, then thrown them one by one to spin the two storeys down and smash on the marble hall floor – screaming with delight at the crash each one made. Fascinated and appalled he had watched her until Angelus eventually appeared to find out what was going on. His new fledgling observed him cautiously, whilst Dru explained. Angelus bent over the banister and looked at the pile of broken glass, said, ‘Less noise, the pair of you,’ and went away. William picked up a glass and tried to see if it would smash Dru’s as they fell together. By the end of the night they were taking it in turns to think up the games.

Every emotion he had ever felt seemed to be churning up in him in an uncontrollable swirl of marvel and confusion. That and the fact that everything was so strange and new meant that he really did feel like a child again, only a child with more energy and power than he had ever dreamed of. A vampire childe.

He no longer struggled to express through his poetry what he thought he ought to be, nor worried clumsily that people didn’t understand him. Because for the first time ever he just let himself feel whatever was on offer; and everyone else could go to the devil. Together with Dru he revelled in his strength and speed, all through the long imprisonment of the daylight hours: swinging from the banisters like young monkeys, or chasing each other through the forest of chair legs in the dining room. The grand piano didn’t last out the week. William let himself go – and exhilarated in the fall. And he couldn’t quite believe it when no matter how far he went there was still no one to check him. His lessons apart, Angelus sometimes dealt out the odd cuff if they made too much noise or went near the study, but that was it.

Dru had taken over the entire nursery suite. She arranged every toy she could find around the room in a long chain and slept in the middle of them, surrounded by glittering tin and staring glass eyes. Then she declared herself eternally in love with the rocking horse and insisted that William hold the reins and her stirrup to assist her to mount. She didn’t seem to be able to work out how to set it in motion though, and after he had rocked it with his foot a couple of times she clung to him in terror until it had stopped. And then a few minutes later she was screaming and yelling at it to go, cracking its wooden hide with a hunting-crop until great chunks of paint and plaster flew off.

Bewitched, he rocked it for her after that, for up to an hour at a time; whilst she sang soft Viennese waltzes under her breath and asked him if he was enjoying the journey. He started to describe the scenery to her, conjuring up half memories from his childhood and building them up until he was no longer sure which parts were true and which invention. But she grew confused when he mentioned the sun, so he changed to inventing nightscapes.

One evening, in the narrow nursery cot, he made love to her for the first time, as naturally and easily as a young buck taking a doe. When he had climaxed he lay panting on top of her; grateful that her eyes were shut so she couldn’t see the daft grin on his face.

‘Silly dog,’ she said. ‘You’re all heavy and wet on top of me.’

‘Don’t say that, Dru, I’m not a dog, I’m a man.’

‘Have you finished?’

‘Um, yes, I think so.’

‘Well get off then.’ He snapped at her finger, but she snatched it out of the way. ‘No! Mustn’t bite!’ She slapped him, but gently, and wriggled out from underneath. He slumped back and soon fell asleep, never having felt so much a man.

A few hours later he was killing a sailor by the back door of a music hall. Angelus sniffed his clothes as they bent together over the kill. ‘You slept with Drusilla?’

‘I, er, well, yes, sir… er, Sire.’

‘Good. About time.’ A hand shot out and grabbed his collar. ‘Did you bite her?’ William shook his head vehemently. ‘Very well, I don’t mind if you rut like stoats but if one tooth so much as scratches my property you won’t have time to see the stake going in.’ He dropped him. ‘Remember to check the pockets before you dump a corpse.’

‘Why, Sire?’

‘It is always helpful if it looks like robbery.’

When he got home William took Dru by the hand and insisted she come to his own more comfortable bed. He’d found a new use for his imagination.

But there was still one problem.

On the first night it had been funny; when William couldn’t control his face even after a fortnight Angelus began to loose patience. Control of the demon visage, William was told firmly, was one of the key signs of an elite vampire and soon even the minions would begin to notice. The only way to get him into his true face was to get him provoked: when it appeared all of a sudden and he had no idea how he’d done it. Angelus took to shaking him violently and then slapping him across the cheek simply to enable him to feed. Then within seconds he would be turned back to his human form.

One night William pocketed a knife before they left for the hunt. He waited until he thought no one was looking before taking the prey Angelus had picked out for him by cutting it’s throat, then lapping the blood out with his tongue. The next thing he knew Darla was in front of him. She took one look and called Angelus, who dragged him home by the collar and blew him up with a tongue-lashing that lasted a good thirty minutes. William stood there sullenly and said nothing. Two nights later Angelus caught him doing it again.

The master vampire snatched the knife from William’s hand and flung it away. ‘I told you: you will feed like a vampire or you will not feed at all.’ His voice was low and deadly.

William stuck his chin out. ‘Why? It’s a perfectly sensible way to do it.’

Angelus’s eyes glowed pale. ‘Do not defy me, boy.’

‘Well it is. And—’

Angelus’s fist caught him under the chin, throwing him to the ground twenty yards away. ‘It might be a good idea if you learnt not to answer me back.’ Angelus stalked over, grinning. He looked down at William and swooped, hauling him back up. ‘Learn some respect. Quickly.’ William still met his gaze. His sire’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you really think I can’t make you obey me?’

William kept silent whilst Angelus marched him home.

Back at the lair, Angelus called for Allwood. The head minion came running. ‘Yes Master?’

‘Where are the others?’

‘Jacob and Lucinda are hunting, Master. The rest are upstairs.’

‘Fetch them all down to the back scullery. Remain there until I call you.’ The minion bowed and hurried off. Angelus pulled off his overcoat and tossed it at William. ‘Hang that up in the cupboard in my dressing-room.’ He disappeared into his study.

William frowned but went upstairs. He passed the minions hurrying down, who gave him sidelong looks as they left. And he distinctly heard one snigger. When he came back downstairs, Angelus was waiting in the centre of the hall.

‘I will give you a last chance, William: if you apologise and agree to obey me, then I will let you off this once.’

‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’

William never even saw Angelus move. One hand caught the scruff of his neck; the other smashed an iron manacle round his wrist. Then he was being propelled across the floor. The chain was thrown accurately around a high banister rail of the landing and the other wrist manacled within seconds, both arms being hauled up taut. William’s eyes widened. ‘What are you doing?’ Angelus had taken off his jacket and was rolling up his shirtsleeves.

‘I thought you would like to find out, William, how I discipline my fledglings.’

‘You can’t do this!’ William tugged at the chain furiously, hoping the banister would snap, but Angelus had chosen one of the thickest posts. ‘Let me down.’

Angelus came and stood in front of him with folded arms.

‘Let me down, you brute.’

‘Language!’

‘What are you going to do, Angelus? You’ve got no right to do this, you know. I’m not your property just because you say I am.’

‘No. You are my property because I am your sire. And nothing and nobody will gainsay that, boy.’

‘There are such things as laws in this country. This is false imprisonment!’

Angelus tossed his head back in a sneer of laughter. ‘Do you really think you could find anyone to listen to you, William? What do you plan to do? Go running to the police? They would consider you a lunatic and pack you off to an asylum before the night was out. And if you could somehow get someone to believe you they would consider you a blood-sucking parasite, to be hunted down and killed. You are only a dangerous animal to them now.’

‘I’m not an animal.’

‘No. You are a vampire. And as a vampire you belong to your sire, and no demon will help you against me. Not the minions, not Darla or Dru. No one. You are mine, boy.’ He trickled a finger across William’s cheekbone. ‘Unless I say otherwise. And I will punish you as and when I see fit.’

‘You swine! Will you let me down! Damn well let me go!’

Angelus walked round behind him and took hold of his collar, ripping both shirt and jacket off together with one swift downward pull. William fell silent as the cloth tore. He twisted his head round, and bit his lip when he saw Angelus had picked up a dog-whip.

Angelus watched with interest as his childe turned back stoically and gripped the chains with both hands, looking determined. There was barely a flinch when he sent the lash whistling across William’s shoulders. Reflecting that the boy had more to him than met the eye, he carefully placed the second cut with the precision of a skilled craftsman, long experienced at his trade.

After about twenty he still hadn’t got any visible reaction, so he stopped and went round the front to have a look. William’s teeth were gritted shut but the blue eyes still blazed defiance. Angelus shrugged and returned to his task. He started to lay the new strokes over the older ones, counting carefully in his head to keep track. At fifty he stopped again.

William’s head was hanging now and he seemed to be gulping down huge breaths, blinking his eyes open and shut as he did so.

‘Look at me, boy.’ His childe’s head shot up. ‘Now, I’m sure you’re having fun being brave. And I could go on all night, if I choose. But to make it stop all you need do is acknowledge that you were wrong to defy me, and that you will be obedient in future.’ He cupped the narrow face in his hands, noting with satisfaction that the tears were staying under control. ‘Say it, William. Will you obey me?’ William squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in refusal. ‘Look at me. This is real, boy. You aren’t going to get away from this with some show of defiance, and you aren’t going to suddenly wake up and find it is all a bad dream. It is happening to you. And this life is all that is left. For ever.’ He paused. ‘Now, will you obey me?’ I will give him twenty seconds, he thought, letting his hands fall and stepping back. William dropped his head again immediately, but Angelus could still see the battle raging within. It took eighteen seconds.

‘Yes, Sire.’

‘Good boy.’ The master vampire produced the key and released the manacles, putting a steadying hand under William’s arm as he let him down. But the young vampire braced his legs and took his own weight, though with head still bowed and fists clenched at his sides. ‘I’m trying to teach you to feed fast, William,’ Angelus said patiently. ‘If you fool about then you will be slow and you risk getting caught.’ William’s nostrils flared, his scowl deepening. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes Sire.’

‘Make sure you do.’ Angelus reached across and nipped him lightly on the neck, right over the mark where he had been made.

William felt his sire take three strong swift pulls that seemed to swirl the blood out of him like a black purge, and then the fangs were withdrawn.

‘Whose are you, William?’

‘Yours, Sire.’

‘Mine.’ Angelus licked over the bite mark. ‘Drusilla!’ Dru, who had been waiting in the study with ears pricked, ran to her sire’s side. ‘Take William upstairs. You may lick his cuts if he asks politely, but you are not to give him any of your blood.’

‘Come with Mummy, naughty William.’ Her eyes were dancing as he had never seen them before. She took his hand and started to lead him away.

‘Why would I ask for your blood?’ he asked, halfway up the stairs.

‘To make you heal quickly, silly. When I’ve been very bad, but Angelus wants to play with me again, he gives me his blood and that makes me all well again.’

‘Could my blood heal you?’

‘Don’t be silly, William. You are just a fledgling. Your blood wouldn’t heal a pimple.’

‘Oh.’ He gnawed at his lip. ‘Drusilla?’

‘Yes?’

‘Does Angelus whip you often?’

She sighed dramatically. ‘Not any more. You are ever so lucky. I wish I were a fledgling again.’

William woke the next evening expecting still to be in pain. He had been beaten at school – not often, but it had happened – and he was expecting to hurt for at least a week, probably more. But as he flexed his shoulders he discovered to his considerable satisfaction that there was only a dull ache. He poked Dru awake.

‘What is it?’ she asked petulantly.

‘My cuts have healed!’

‘Well of course they have. Let me go back to sleep.’

William rolled over on the bed and lolled back against the pillows, his hands behind his head. ‘This is amazing.’

Dru snuggled up against him. ‘Daddy’s hit you before, you must have noticed.’

‘Well, yes, but that was just the odd slap.’ He sniggered. ‘I can see why you don’t mind him beating you, now.’

Dru frowned. ‘Why would I mind, William? Daddy knows what is best.’ She trailed her finger across his chest and said very quietly, ‘Sometimes he makes me cry.’

He looked down at her. ‘Dru, you don’t always think quite the same way as other people, do you.’

She smiled a secretive little smile and blinked like a contented tabby cat.

‘Have you always been like that?’ he asked cautiously. ‘Or is it something to do with… I mean did Angelus…’ He stumbled to an awkward halt, looking at her with a worried expression. ‘How long have you been with him, Dru?’ he asked at last.

She sighed. ‘I can’t remember. For ever and ever. All my life.’

‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘You mean, even when you were a child?’

‘I wasn’t alive before he killed me. And then I was dead. And all the worms and beetles weep for my little still heart.’ She crossed her hands across her chest.

‘But how long ago in time?’

‘Angelus is over a hundred years old. That’s older than anybody. He’s the king and I’m his princess.’

‘What does that make me?’

‘You’re my knight, William. The knight of the grail.’

He laughed again at last. ‘And where is the grail, sweetheart?’

‘I don’t know yet. But it’s full of blood.’

‘Well that sounds all right then.’

He found a quiet room and tried to practice. With enough shaking, time, and frustration it came; but then he could scarcely hold it. Darla walked in and discovered him, and he ran out, followed by her peels of laughter. Angelus sought him out in his hiding place, made him go and stand in the middle of the drawing room, and told him to keep at it until he got it right. But with them all watching he couldn’t manage at all. After twenty minutes Angelus walked out in disgust.

He took his next kill with an inexpert neck twist copied off his sire, and then gnawed into the corpse with his human teeth and drank the blood cold. Angelus beat him for a second time, harder, and with no words of explanation.

Within a few days, after one snide look too many, William deliberately picked a fight with one of the minions; and the vampire servant, afraid to retaliate, got badly hurt. Jacob tried to hide his bruises but Angelus found out and tortured him for touching a childe of the family.

The household all lined up to watch, but William lay alone in his bedroom where he had been locked in by Angelus after receiving his third beating.

I don’t care, he told himself as the screams drifted up from below. I’m a vampire and I don’t care. Jacob is a stupid fool and he deserves it because he was rude to me. I don’t care.

He put his hands over his ears.

His sire hadn’t even bothered to chain him up for his punishment, simply hurling him to the floor and laying into him with a belt. And every time he had tried to roll away Angelus had just hit him harder, until his entire back was raw and bloody. Angelus had kept the chains for Jacob, but then, as he said, Jacob didn’t need to learn self-control.

I don’t care.

The next night Angelus came and unlocked the door. ‘You will go out with Drusilla this evening. Do exactly as she tells you.’ And he walked away. Darla, who had been listening smugly outside the room, took her dark childe’s arm and led him off for the night.

Dru took William halfway across town, before she finally chose and killed a pretty girl for him and they fed side by side from the same bite mark; William ripping the hole bigger with his finger so Dru could stick her tongue right in. He licked the blood out of her mouth as they kissed.

‘Where do you want to go today?’ Dru would ask him every night.

After a few days he said, ‘Um, Angelus took me to a dance hall once. Do you think we could go there?’

‘Do you want to dance, William!’

‘No. Well, yes, if you like. But I thought we could kill someone together.’

‘But you can’t bite,’ she said bluntly.

‘I could kill someone some other way.’

She shook her head. ‘Puppies aren’t allowed to kill things. Angelus says so.’

‘But how am I going to learn?’ he wailed. ‘I’ve got to learn how to look after myself, Dru. Otherwise—’

She laughed, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘Can’t leave Daddy, silly. He’ll kill you. You have to be quiet and good and then he will play with you.’

For the next few days William tried being as obedient and polite as he could manage. Angelus more or less ignored him. Pretty much their only interaction would be if William asked a question: when he was invariably dismissed with the curt instruction to go to Drusilla, and she never explained anything. ‘Daddy wouldn’t like it,’ she said, ‘Let’s go and play instead.’ William liked it even less.

Then on their way home one night the young vampires came up behind two clergymen who were coming out of a Temperance Society hall after a late running committee meeting. Drusilla’s eyes glowed yellow. ‘Priests,’ she spat. ‘Let’s rip their tongues out.’

William paused. ‘Are we allowed to do that? Don’t we need Angelus’s permission?’

‘Don’t you want to play any more, little puppy?’

‘Yes,’ he said crossly, and prised up a cobblestone with a yank of his strong fingers, lobbing it just ahead of the clerics, who stopped in surprise and turned round.

‘Pretty men in black!’ Dru called. ‘Come and sing bedtime stories for me.’

The younger cleric took a step back. ‘Oh goodness gracious. Do you think she’s… Oh heavens.’

‘It’s all right, Frobisher.’

‘Do you think… if we just walk away…?’

‘Yes. Very well.’ But the older man didn’t move.

Dru ran out and circled round like a sheepdog, and Frobisher revolved, following her movement with goggle eyes, until he was back to back with his older companion. ‘I’m not at all sure she isn’t drunk, you know.’

‘Quite possibly,’ the other man said gently.

William was standing still, watching the clerics. They wouldn’t break along the street past him. ‘Lie down,’ he said softly to himself. ‘Woof, woof.’ He could smell Frobisher’s fear.

Dru was stalking back towards them, her head weaving from side to side, her mouth a little open though she was still in human face. But he could tell she wouldn’t stay that way much longer.

There was a loud penetrating whistle behind him and he snapped round immediately. Angelus was standing up at the far end of the street, one arm wrapped casually around Darla’s waist. William glanced back at Dru, who had lifted her head up and then ran straight past the men to her sire’s side. He followed her with his eyes until he was staring straight at Angelus once more. Along the length of the street the two gazed at each other, neither moving to make any sign of command or response. At last William turned and took one final long look at the clerics, then ran after her.

‘Come on, boy. What have you been doing?’

‘Nothing, Sire.’

He walked home at the master vampire’s heels.

When they were almost there, though, William hung back and Angelus stopped. Darla turned and raised a questioning eyebrow, but Angelus shook his head in silent signal for her to go on and she took Dru inside. William was staring at the ground. Angelus folded his arms and waited.

‘Please, Sire, may I go out tomorrow? On my own?’

‘No.’

William swallowed nervously. ‘If… if you aren’t going to teach me any more, what is the point of me being here?’

Angelus didn’t answer and William continued to stare at the dirty yellow paving stone, chewing on his lip.

‘Is that it, boy? Said everything you want to say?’

William shrugged.

‘For future reference, boy, a junior vampire when craving a boon or offering penance traditionally goes down on one knee. But then I am forgetting, you know so much more than me about how a vampire should behave.’

William shut his eyes for half a second, and then dropped to his knee. Angelus smiled and strolled off up to the house, leaving William kneeling in the street.

Back outside the Temperance Hall, Frobisher had been babbling on about nothing in a gush of relief. When he at last paused for breath he was surprised to see his companion wiping his eyes. ‘I say, is something the matter?’

‘Oh no. It isn’t important. It was just that that young man looked so like my Billy.’

Frobisher looked away, embarrassed.

‘You know, Frobisher, I do rather wish I had come home in time to make it to the funeral. We were always such a close family before. It is a terrible thing,’ the old man said softly, ‘to have your son die before you.’

The next afternoon the bedroom door slammed open, and William, who had been sitting staring out of the window, shot off the bed with a guilty start. Angelus came in with an unreadable face; and there was a quiet snick as he closed the door behind himself. Then they stood and regarded each other, neither speaking, until William took in the little creamy-white whalebone switch that Angelus was carrying, and a wild look came over his face. ‘No!’

Angelus smiled. ‘I thought you wanted me to teach you?’

‘I’m not a child. You’re not going to whip me like a child!’

‘Aren’t I?’ He screwed his face into mock puzzlement. ‘Are you sure, William?’ Then his tone went flat and cold. ‘Strip.’

With grim determination, William went for the door, only to discover that Angelus had locked it when he came in; and he turned miserably back round to find the master vampire right up against him, that sneering grin looking down a few inches from his nose. He slumped against the door, knowing that he either had to take the beating or else try to fight Angelus: which would mean getting knocked around the room a few times, and then still having to take the beating. He started to yank off his clothes. The smug satisfaction was radiating off Angelus like heat from a furnace.

William dropped his shirt on the floor, unbuttoned his fly, and then quickly knelt down to take off his shoes. He fumbled about, got one shoe off and had switched knees to start on the other, when he glanced up cautiously. Only his gaze was checked half way: Angelus’s crotch was bulging right before his eyes.

Angelus had told him once to always keep breathing as a way of constantly testing the scent, but he took in a couple of extra deep breaths to be sure. He had noticed the smell before, when Angelus was in a rage with him, but he suddenly realised what it had meant, and he slowly reached across and began to unbutton Angelus’s fly, still tugging at his shoelace with the other hand. He didn’t dare look up to gauge the reaction. If he objects to this, William thought, I’ll find out when he rips my head off. But Angelus made no movement as his childe eased the cloth aside and freed his erection.

William dropped his hand back down and just looked. It was sitting right under his nose, the scent twitching all through him in a swirling cloud, and he didn’t have a clue what he was doing but he leant forward and lapped the tip with his tongue. He had expected it to be strong and foul, but he couldn’t taste anything much. The feel though was like nothing he had ever known: taut but mobile flesh that slithered under his tongue as he flicked it down the length and back, and the cool tasteless drops from the tip. It was strange and yet somehow he felt…

He worked up and down for a while, sometimes licking and sometimes nuzzling with his nose or his cheek and then when he got back to the tip he put his mouth right over it and went on working with his tongue as much as he could. He tried sucking, since he knew that was what it was called, but he nearly gagged at first and pulled back smartly. He swallowed and started again more carefully. And he knew he was doing something right because he suddenly felt Angelus’s hands on the back of his head, fingers twining into his hair, bobbing his head back and forth slightly.

There was something he wanted to try. Something he had wondered about ever since he first got them. But he dared not stop and move back to be able to shake his head; so he just went on sucking, wishing that they would come out and imagining what it would be like if they would grow when he needed them. And suddenly there they were. For the first time since he had been turned, his fangs had descended when he wanted them to. And he’d been right, because they fitted as if made for it, one on either side of the cool stiff flesh and the little sharp teeth in the middle rippling up and down just perfectly. Angelus gave out a low purring rumble and began to push his head faster and faster; until William felt his sire still and pulse and there was a great gush of moisture in his mouth, which gave him quite a shock because he had never really expected to manage it. He swallowed most of it and then heard Angelus order ‘Lick it clean.’ Which he did as best he could, until Angelus abruptly pushed his childe’s face away, took a step back, and adjusted his clothes. William stayed kneeling.

‘Get on with it.’

He wondered what he was supposed to be getting on with.

Oh.

He quickly tugged off his last shoe and stepped up, letting his trousers fall off, then stood and waited. He could feel his whole body shaking and he didn’t think he could get rid of his fangs now if he wanted to.

Angelus reached out and cupped him under the chin. ‘Why are you shaking, Will?’ Angelus had never called him that before.

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know – what?’

‘I don’t know, Sire.’

Angelus moved his hand round behind William’s head. His left hand. The right one was still holding the switch. ‘Hmm. Let’s see if we can do something with you.’ He pulled William forward, steering him over to the bed with a firm pressure on the back of his neck. ‘Now where did you learn to do that?’ The voice was like silk tearing.

‘Nowhere, Sire. I just made it up.’ The pressure on his neck changed until the fingers were digging into his nape. ‘At school: the others talked about it sometimes. About what went on.’

‘And you tried it? Went for a little private tuition?’

‘No, Sire, I swear. It happened. Some of the boys. Some of the masters, I think. But I never did. I didn’t want to.’

‘Hmm. I wonder.’ Angelus’s hand came round and started to play with William’s cock. He was standing brushing against William’s left side, with one hand on the small of his childe’s back, the other teasing and coaxing his arousal. ‘Let me see those pretty blue eyes of yours.’

William panicked. ‘I can’t! I don’t know how to, Sire.’

Angelus’s hand clamped, vice like, around the base of his cock. ‘Come on, Will. You normally can’t change back soon enough, that’s the bit you find easy. A brave little manly chap who knows how to keep a stiff upper-lip and never lets his feelings get the better of him. Don’t go daft on me now.’

‘I’m not. I can’t.’ He shut his eyes and tried to imagine the stupid things retreating but all he could think about was the throbbing in his groin. ‘Please, Sire, I like not having to care about hiding things. It’s the only bit about being a vampire I like.’

‘Has no one ever told you how much it lowers peoples opinion of you when you whine like that?’

‘Please.’

‘I’m not interested in hearing you beg, William. Now concentrate. You know where the muscles are, just use them.’ Angelus gripped tighter. ‘Come on… that’s a clever boy.’ He released his hand with a last quick stroke. ‘Now, little one, bend over the bed for me. Put your weight on your elbows. That’s it.’ The hand came back, working him harder this time. ‘Stay there.’ He felt Angelus adjusting his position slightly, making him spread his legs a little, and brushing a cool finger against his crack; the other hand was still pumping.

Suddenly there was a crack like a pistol shot and William bucked forward with a hiss at the sharp sting across his buttocks. The hand instantly clamped shut again. ‘Now, Will, I said, keep still. And no squealing either. I thought you wanted to show me you weren’t a child?’

William pressed his forehead against his balled fists and nodded miserably. The switch came down a second time, but he managed to keep quiet and still and then the clever hand returned to its job. The switch kept falling, cutting and stinging and then it would stop and Angelus would begin rubbing again, until William’s whole body seemed to throb and quiver and he didn’t know if he wanted to get away or push himself harder against it or both together.

Abruptly he was clamped once more and now it was unbearable. ‘I said you weren’t to move, William. Stop. Squirming.’

‘Please, Sire. Please. Pleeease.’

‘Or speak.’ Half a dozen blows rained down in quick succession, until William forced himself to hold still.

‘Now, I am going to teach you some self-control. You aren’t to come, you aren’t to squirm, and you aren’t to make a sound until I tell you to.’ And Angelus took his hand right away.

Angelus gave him a fresh cut. He bit his lip, because his sire had had a clearer swing and that one had really hurt. He felt like he was about to explode.

Another cut.

He thought about rotten cabbages and the taste of suet pudding and their wrinkled old laundry woman on washing day.

Another cut.

He was clawing his fingers into the bedspread and doing long division in his head.

Another cut.

Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh Christ.

Another cut.

Anything. Think about anything. Anything at all.

Another cut. And another. Another. Another.

No. Please. No.

‘Stand up.’

He managed to, very stiffly; every muscle in his body felt knotted taut and quivering into a confused ball of fury, misery, pain, humiliation, and desire.

‘Look at me. Now show me your fangs.’

With every emotion he had ever wanted to express boiling up in him, he snarled, and they sprang forth with no trouble at all.

‘Good. And your human face.’

That was harder, but he remembered what had happened before and forced his feelings down and away.

‘Good. And again. Very good. Again. Good boy!’ Angelus reached out. ‘Now you may come.’ And with half a dozen swift strokes his sire finally brought him to a thunderous release.

William waited to see if his body would ever stop shaking.

Angelus let his cock go and held the hand up, and without being told to William licked it clean, never taking his eyes off his sire’s. Angelus just smirked, twisting his hand and holding out each finger in turn. ‘There,’ he said, when William was finally done, ‘that wasn’t too difficult, was it.’ He tossed the switch onto the dressing table. ‘We’ll keep that in here, I think. But with a bit of luck I won’t need it next time; eh, Will?’

William didn’t say anything. He didn’t even know what to think, let alone say.

‘You’ve got ten minutes. Then I want you in the drawing-room.’ Angelus left.

William continued to stare into space whilst the minutes ticked away.

What had just happened? What on earth had just happened? He shook himself. The time was almost up so he cleaned himself up as best he could, re-dressed, and hurried downstairs. He paused outside the door. They would all look at him. They would all know by now, would be able to smell what had happened even if Angelus hadn’t told them. He swore softly under his breath.

What did it actually matter? Who gave a damn about their opinion anyway? He pushed open the door.

Angelus was standing leaning against the fireplace, staring into the flames. Darla was seated, flicking through a ladies periodical. Dru was just sitting primly, gazing at nothing. Darla looked up. ‘William, I hear Angelus has taught you to control your face at last.’

‘Yes Madam.’

‘Show me.’

He did. It was easier each time. Dru squeaked. ‘William, you can do it!’ She rushed over and put her arms around him. ‘Do it again.’ William smiled and showed her. ‘Angelus, he can do it! He really can. My clever boy.’ She kissed him.

‘Didn’t you believe me when I said he could, Drusilla?’ Angelus said dryly.

‘I thought you might be teasing me. But look, he can. Such a clever boy you are, my William.’ She gazed at him then, with that deep look, fathoms deep, that he was coming to adore; and her voice dropped an octave. ‘You’re all grown up.’

He smiled shyly and mouthed ‘Thank you.’ Then he flashed his fangs in and out, which made her squeal with delight.

She leant in closer. ‘There are ever so many things we can do now.’

‘William,’ Angelus said sharply. ‘Go and fetch our coats, I am taking you and Drusilla out hunting.’ William looked across and distinctly saw his sire wink, once, before he turned away.

William was sitting on a low wall, swinging his legs and whistling. He was supposed to be a gypsy, which had entailed dressing up in clothes which seemed to him to be a cross between those of a beggar and a circus performer, and having his face smeared with some dark, odd smelling liquid and black dye washed into his hair. He was enjoying himself. It was like something out of a six-penny romance: The Bold Romano and the Black Eyed Girl.

His black eyed girl was just then crooning to a small kitten which she seemed to have hypnotised, but every time someone came along she would put it down and dance like an Egyptian sorceress to the music only she could hear. That was the bit that William liked best: watching as she wove strange spells with her lithe body, supple as a willow wand, while the goggle-eyed humans could only stand and gawk at a distance. They had even earned a few pennies in the battered cap on the ground.

The idea, though, was that the real local gypsy clan would hear about them and come and try to chase them off. And in the confusion Angelus would snatch one. He and Darla always exchanged gypsies every nine years apparently – it was a sort of tradition. Angelus had received his a few weeks previously, an elderly crone with teeth as sharp as knives and a tongue to match. He had kept her alive for almost a fortnight, until he grew bored of her and threw her to the minions, to play with as they pleased before they fed. Now it was to be Darla’s turn. He said he wanted something special, though, something just a little bit different and with a hint of danger; and he had decided to let William and Dru help.

Down the street, just in sight of William, Angelus was lurking in wait dressed as a police inspector, so even if the gypsies did spot him they would think their friend had simply been arrested. With the added bonus that if a real policeman came and made trouble for William and Dru then Angelus could deal with him. But so far they had been at it in several different places for three evenings and there hadn’t been a real gypsy in sight.

William took out the flute he’d been given and tried to blow a few notes, producing a noise like a strangled duck and then a long reedy pipe that died away every time he tried to change the pitch. He ignored Dru’s snort of laughter and kept trying until he at last began to create something that sounded almost like a true note. When he looked up Dru had wandered off somewhere, and he couldn’t see Angelus either.

‘Well, well. An Aurelian.’

‘What?’

A huge, red-haired man was standing staring down his nose at him. William tried to remember the smattering of Romany words he had been taught, but they all seemed to have leapt out of his head. ‘Gi’ us a penny, mister,’ he whined instead, putting out his hand.

‘And why would you want a penny, vampire?’

William stiffened. Something that had been niggling at the back of his mind stood up and shouted and he realised that the man didn’t smell right. Smelt very, very wrong in fact. He could feel his fangs starting to lengthen in response to it.

‘If you had any idea how long we have been looking for you,’ the man said conversationally. ‘Quite elusive you damn bloodsuckers can be when you put your minds to it. I’ve been searching just about every graveyard in London.’

‘Your fault for believing cheap novels, then. Why’d we be in a graveyard? We catch live humans, remember.’ William flicked his eyes sidelong, looking for Angelus. ‘You obviously don’t know much about vampires.’

‘I know they cause less trouble if you shove them on a stick. You see, I am Foth of the clan Avelar. And these are my brothers, Gar and Han.’ He pointed over William’s shoulder and William swung round to see two more redheads standing behind him.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Simple, vampire. We are going to kill you. Slowly. Very, very slowly, in fact. And then we will send your dust to Angelus to remind him not to leave his minions wandering around in our streets.’

‘Or my family can all smash your guts into the ground, instead,’ William said brazenly, hoping that the man would assume from his bravado that he wasn’t alone.

‘Actually, I think I’ve changed my mind. You might look pretty set on fire.’

‘Really, Foth? And how exactly are you going to achieve that, then?’ came a voice from the shadows.

Foth hissed and they all swung towards the voice, at which point a knife flew down from a different direction and pierced Han in his exposed throat. William felt the rush of air as the demon toppled past him. Foth and Gar changed instantly, each revealing a row of red horns across his forehead and gleaming orange eyes. William changed too and tried to jump off the wall while they were distracted, but Gar grabbed him from behind. The next moment there was a roar and three vampires charged in from different directions.

William was struggling desperately, wriggling like an eel to try and slip out from the demon’s claws, but Gar hung on like the devil. He had pulled William back over the wall and was using his body like a shield, swinging the young vampire round between himself and the threat. The two minion vampires facing him were looking ferociously desperate and concerned about how to deal with this. But for William everything seemed to have concentrated; and the pounding mess of feelings he had been swimming in since the night he rose, stilled and cleared to a beautiful white flame certainty of kick and twist and bite.

William decided not to bother wondering where on earth Allwood and Jacob had come from, and concentrated on making himself as much of an adversary to Gar as he could, kicking and punching. He had barely noticed the knife point held so one thrust would sever his spinal cord and pierce his brain, other than to appreciate that it’s threat was causing the minions to hang back. Outnumbered, Gar must know he had no choice but to try and hold on to his hostage.

Allwood was attempting to circle round, gesturing for Jacob to go the other way. ‘Push him back, Master William, try to make him go backwards,’ the Head Minion yelled. William shook his head, he could see that if Gar went any further back, the demon would realise there was a possible escape route down a side-street. He had to keep his attention away from it. He struggled harder, even though he knew it was futile and Gar was squeezing him painfully. He managed to get in one satisfying bite on the demon’s arm though, and heard a yell of pain before it was ripped free. Gar lunged and snapped at William’s ear with his teeth. William bucked and writhed even more, the second he grasped what Gar was trying to do.

‘Let him go,’ Gar suddenly shouted. ‘Let him go, Angelus, or I kill this boy!’

And William saw that Angelus was engaged in furious single combat with Foth.

The master vampire was whirling and spinning, his fists seemed to be everywhere, he dived under, round and through every move that Foth could make; and every few seconds he would land a punishing blow, whilst Foth didn’t seem to have touched him once. Angelus grabbed a street lamp, swinging round on its pillar to drive both his feet against Foth’s chest, which hurled the red demon out into the street, almost under the wheels of a passing cab. The horse neighed and reared up, iron hooves flailing and pounding the cobbles either side of the demon’s head. Foth rolled frantically and Angelus darted out, trying to get at him between the traces. The cabby swore and yelled at them, desperately trying to control his terrified horse. Then Foth made it out the far side.

Angelus snarled once at the horse, which bolted in white-eyed fear, clearing the way, and the master vampire charged across after Foth, tackling him from behind and punching his back repeatedly. Suddenly Foth jumped straight upwards, a spring of ten foot or so clean into the air. Without hesitating Angelus jumped as well, grabbing his opponent in mid bound; and they fell down together in a tangle. They rolled back across the street and into the gutter, with Angelus somehow managing to end up on top. He began to hammer his fist time and time again into Foth’s face.

‘Let him go, Angelus!’

If Angelus had heard then he certainly wasn’t interested, because he suddenly seized an opportunity and snapped Foth’s neck, sweeping the body up and hurling it straight at Gar. ‘Down, boy!’ Angelus yelled; and at that voice William automatically obeyed and slipped down and out of his captor’s grip, while Gar was still frozen in horror. The corpse of one demon crashed into the other, and then Allwood and Jacob rushed past William, to finish the job before Gar could struggle back to his feet.

William was just staring in awe at his sire.

‘Well, that was interesting.’ Angelus sauntered up and cast a dismissive glance at the bodies, then reached out an arm and snagged William, pulling him over to him. He started to look him over, tilting his head and checking through his hair. ‘Did you get scratched? Avelars tend to carry poisoned weapons.’

‘No Sire. I bit that one though.’

‘I know you did. You did well there, William.’

William felt a great thump in his chest and if it hadn’t been dead he would have sworn that his heart had just beaten with pride. Allwood was grinning at him too, and even Jacob.

‘That was fun, Master.’

‘Yes. It was about time we did something about our scarlet friends. Besides, he called Will a minion. You’re not a minion, are you, Will.’

‘No. I’m a childe of the blood of Aurelius.’

‘Exactly.’ He nodded his approval, then looked up. ‘Dru, where on earth have you been?’

Dru wandered up, gazing around at the corpses. ‘Did I miss a party?’ she asked.

‘Well, really, Drusilla!’ Angelus winked at William. ‘You can see why I need someone to keep an eye on her.’

William looked puzzled. ‘Sire, where did Allwood and Jacob come from?’

‘Them? They were up on the roof.’

William’s frown deepened.

‘Will, there have never been fewer than two minions watching over you ever since you came home to us. Do you think I’m going to risk losing you?’

William was astonished. ‘I had no idea!’

Angelus smiled and threw his arm around William’s shoulder. ‘I know you don’t, my boy. That’s why I’m teaching you.’

And for the first time, William didn’t think it was so bad to be Angelus’s boy.

‘Angelus!’ There was no answer. ‘Angelus, get that boy down here now!’

There was a muffled thumping from upstairs and a minute or so later William appeared, looking flustered. Darla’s nostrils flared and she looked at him coldly, but her voice remained calm. ‘This is your responsibility, William. Deal with it.’ She gestured across the room to where Drusilla stood with eyes shut, weaving her arms in strange patterns above her head.

‘She’s just dancing, Madam.’

‘No she is not. She is having a vision, and you will stay with her until she snaps out of it. Pay particular attention to everything she says.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what, William? Is that all you ever say? Why, why, why! Just do as you’re told.’ Darla turned her back on Dru and went and sat down near the fire, she started to read the society pages of the newspaper.

William scowled at Darla’s back and looked at Dru. The perplexing vampire was swaying slightly to a complex rhythm known only to her, a low muttering coming from her lips. William pulled awkwardly at his trousers. ‘I’ll go and get one of the minions,’ he said.

‘No you will not,’ Darla snapped.

‘Wh…’ He stopped himself. ‘I didn’t know she had visions.’

‘In my experience, William, you know very little.’

He glanced at the door. ‘But if you’re here anyway then…’

Darla ignored him. Pointedly.

‘So if that’s all right, then?’ He edged a step closer to leaving.

‘Stand still, William.’

‘But—’

She glared at him.

‘Angelus told me to come back as soon as I’d finished,’ he said quickly.

‘I dare say he did, William. But you have not finished. Now be quiet.’

He opened his mouth again, then thought better of it and went and leant against the wall in as marked a manner as he could manage. He drummed his heels for a while. Dru had still said nothing intelligible.

‘Can I at least sit down?’

‘Hush!’

He decided to take this as permission, and went and plumped himself down on the nearest chair.

Darla took one look. ‘Up!’ She snapped her fingers at him. ‘Now!’ He stood up sulkily. ‘When exactly did Angelus give you permission to sit in your elders’ presence?’

‘You didn’t say I couldn’t.’

She started to read her paper again. William fidgeted for a while.

‘I ought to go and tell Sire that I’ll be gone for some time.’

‘There is a blue mist around the ponies. And the queen won’t give up her carriage seat.’

William stared at Dru in astonishment. ‘What on earth?’

Dru giggled and stalked across to him, she jumped and snapped her hands together over his head like a kitten chasing butterflies. ‘Pretty games. Run and catch. Must please Daddy, puppy dog. Must find out which you are.’

‘Are you…. Is this a vision, love?’

She tilted her head in puzzlement. ‘I can see you?’

‘What’s it like?’

She suddenly snapped her head back and her eyes rolled impossibly far up into her skull. Then her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. He just managed to catch her in time. ‘Dru? Are you all right, Dru? Dru!’ He cuddled her close. ‘Love! Darla, I think she’s hurt herself!’ There was the sound of a newspaper page being turned. He looked up furiously. ‘Darla! Help me!’

A blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling across Dru’s still little body.

‘What do you call her?’

‘Ow. That damn well hurt. Madam. I call her Madam, Sire.’

‘Angelus, that boy is growing impertinent. You will deal with it.’

Angelus went and sprawled out on the sofa beside her. ‘He’s a vampire, of course he’s cocky.’

‘Deal with it.’

He held up his hands. ‘I am. Put Dru down, boy, and go and fetch me a cigar.’

‘I think something’s wrong with her, Sire.’

‘She’s just having a vision, Will. She sometimes goes like that.’

William gently laid Dru down and started to get up. ‘I didn’t know she had visions. What does she see?’

‘Nonsense mostly. But useful things as well. That’s why I keep her around. Well, that and the fact that she’s a damn fine screw.’

Darla snorted and turned another page.

William went and fetched the cigar box, holding it out for Angelus to select one. Angelus picked out a cigar and rolled it between his fingers, holding it to his ear to check if it was sound. Satisfied he handed it to William. William took it from him, put the box back down on a side table, and reached into his pocket. He frowned and quickly tried his other pocket, looked worried and checked the first one again. ‘I… er, when I got dressed, I think I must have left the cutter somewhere.’

Angelus sighed. ‘Then go and fetch it, William.’

‘And bring back a strap,’ Darla said.

William looked aghast.

‘Why do you want him to fetch a strap, Darla?’

‘I said, darling, he’s getting impertinent. I want you to deal with it.’ She picked up a pencil and made a mark against an article in the paper.

Angelus smiled and leant his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes. ‘And I said I will. Only not now, I’m tired.’

‘You need to nip these things in the bud, Angelus.’

‘Dear God, woman, you’ll be asking me to put up shelves for you next! I nip his bud on a regular basis. Why can’t you do some nipping for a change?’

‘Angelus! Pas devant les enfants.’

‘Well considering one of the enfants terrible is off in Wonderland and the other one is supposed to be fetching my cigar cutter,’ he gave William a marked look, ‘I hardly think it matters.’

William started and scampered out.

Angelus slid down and rested his head in his sire’s lap, bringing his long legs up to drape along the sofa. Darla started to absent-mindedly play with his hair. There was a slight draught because William had forgotten to close the door when he left, but the quietly glowing fire filled the room with a warm homely light. There was no sound but the shifting of the coals and the faint rustle of Darla’s newspaper.

‘How did you get on with the tailor?’ she asked eventually.

‘Oh not too bad. The waistcoat is going to be superb I think. There was less talk than there usually is about having to charge extra for staying open so late. And he refused to walk home alone. Took a cab. That must be eating into his profits!’

Darla smiled.

‘Oh and I ran into Marius. I annoyed him by suggesting we go and take a drink together. He refused of course. I swear that fellow isn’t happy if we don’t fight every time we meet.’

‘That’s because, darling, the last time you got together to discuss the territory boundary amicably, you ended up staking his second best minion.’

‘Yes, well, there is that.’

‘And what did he have to say this time?’

‘Nothing interesting. He wondered why we were drawing so much attention to ourselves these days. Went on about the business with the Avelar demons and the pub massacre. He suggested it would be better for everybody if we kept a lower profile. Waved his fangs about a bit. I was terrified. He seems to be worried that we might attract, oh the frightful, ghastly horror, the Slayer!’

‘He would be.’

‘He’s always been a coward,’ Angelus said contemptuously. ‘Then he started to drawl on about an overall Master for London again. He seems to think there is a need for more order.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I didn’t. Th