Sweet William – Part I

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.’