Sweet William – Part III

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. The man is a tedious pest and I was late for my tailor’s appointment.’

‘Angelus,’ she growled, ‘we have to consider these matters. I may have to start organising some alliances. If there is to be a High Master of London again then he should have the blood of Aurelius in his veins.’

‘Really? Did you have someone in mind?’

She hit him lightly and then giggled when he pinched her back.

‘Marius and his empty threats are the least of my worries. Allwood says some human came round this morning demanding to see the owners. Something about unpaid bills.’

Darla hissed in annoyance. ‘I knew this would happen. I never had enough time to check this house was suitable for us. You would be amazed how many nasty little secrets these humans can be hiding. The next thing we know there will be bailiffs and policemen trying to break the doors down at all hours of the day.’

‘We could pay them to go away.’

‘We will probably have to. If you kill some they just send others. I’ll have to find some money from somewhere; can you go gambling again tomorrow night?’

He sighed. ‘I suppose so. I had other plans, but…’

‘Well it is that or move again.’

‘I don’t want to move. I like the conservatory.’ He growled. ‘I remember when I was William’s age and I thought being a master was all about gaining some mystical power. Nobody told me you had to do so much damn work for it. Why can’t I just snap my fingers and have all the minions magically do what I want and the opposition fall cowering at my feet and the humans dance up and throw themselves at my fangs?’

‘Nonsense, darling, you love it.’

He didn’t respond.

‘So what do you plan to do next?’

‘With the tailor? Hmm… Well he’s pretty jumpy all of the time now. Doesn’t like leaving the house after dark. Ah yes, and I found out that his son breeds fancy doves. I might kill those. Decorate the place a bit for them, it is far too dull. An artistic statement about peace and love.’

‘That’s my imaginative bo-oy,’ she warbled in a singsong voice.

‘That’s how you made me.’ He was silent for a bit. ‘A few more weeks and it will be time to kill the son. I thought I might take Will along for that. Show him what it is really all about.’

Darla stiffened.

‘Don’t you think?’ He half turned round and looked at her. ‘I’ve only taken him on street hunts so far. Just the mundane sort for everyday food. Not the real game.’

‘We’ll see.’

She resumed perusing her newspaper. Angelus got up for a moment and poked the fire about a bit, heaping on more coal. He returned to settle down in her lap, stepping over Dru who still lay unconscious on the highly patterned hearth-rug. Her face was deathly still, thrown into sharp contrasts of white and black shadow.

‘That wretched boy left the door open,’ Darla said.

‘Yes,’ Angelus said, in a tone that made it very clear he was not going to get up again and close it. ‘It will be interesting to see if he does bring the strap,’ he added after a while.

‘If he doesn’t you are to send him back for it. I won’t have him disobeying me, Angelus. He’s been getting quite unmanageable these last few weeks. And his continuous questions are beginning to drive me mad.’

‘How’s he going to learn if he doesn’t ask questions?’

‘He should simply do as he is told. It is disrespectful to question his elders’ judgement like this. He should accept that we know what is best for him and leave it at that.’

‘You always used to let me ask questions, when I was a fledgling.’

She bent down and kissed him. ‘That, my dear boy, was different. I had a possible master vampire to educate.’

‘Possible!’ He cocked an eyebrow at her.

She sniggered and twisted a finger round a lock of his hair, giving it a sharp tug. ‘Well, I suppose I might make something of you yet.’

He reached up a hand and pulled her mouth down onto his own.

‘Not feeling so tired any more?’ she asked when they parted.

He snapped wolfishly at the finger that she was trailing slowly down his neck, then settled himself more comfortably against her. ‘Exhausted.’ He closed his eyes again and crossed his hands primly on his chest. She tapped him on the nose and he opened one eye. ‘I need to build up my strength for later,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Not too much later, I hope.’

The fire settled and flared up briefly, then subsided.

‘Ice cream,’ Dru muttered. ‘I scream and scream.’

The older vampires looked at her for a second or two, then relaxed when nothing more seemed to be forthcoming.

‘So you don’t think William has potential, then?’ Angelus asked lazily.

‘William? Hah! Oh he does well enough to keep Dru happy, but you know perfectly well that he will never amount to anything. Let her keep him until she grows bored and then get rid of him, that’s my advice.’

‘I think he’s quite bright.’

‘Bright! The boy is a blithering idiot, Angelus. You just think he’s quite pretty.’

‘Well he’s that as well. It doesn’t do any harm.’

‘He will never do anything of note, my darling. Don’t make yourself unhappy expecting anything of him. Just have fun and then let him go.’ She started to trail her fingers across his broad forehead and he slid into his demon face, letting her nails trace out the shapes of his brow-ridges.

Dru started to mutter again. ‘Ice cream and jelly. Jolly jelly and jam. Jelly with long legs and a fine fur hat on top. Why can’t we dance today?’

Angelus opened his eyes and saw William standing sullenly before him, holding out a black leather strap.

‘Did you find the cutter?’

‘Yeh.’

‘You know what to do then.’

William unceremoniously dropped the strap on the floor and went to retrieve the cigar.

Dru suddenly screamed. ‘Tea! We must take tea!’ Angelus sat up immediately. ‘Tea! Tea!’ Dru pulled herself up frantically. ‘Tea, Daddy! We must take tea. Now. At once!’

Darla folded her newspaper. ‘Angelus, does that mean what I think it does?’

‘I imagine so, yes. Come here, Dru darling.’ He held out his arms for her and she rushed over, burrowing her head against his shoulder. ‘You think we need to do the rite again, Dru?’

She pulled her head up and met his eye, nodding slowly. ‘Danger, Angelus. The links must be tied to make us all safe. Otherwise the big bad wolf will split up our happy family and there will only be soot for supper.’ She growled, her eyes widening and flicking yellow, and slowly she rubbed her body against Angelus’s with a rhythmic rumbling drone coming from deep in her throat.

‘What a bore,’ Darla pronounced, getting up. ‘I’ll go and get the ingredients. Angelus you had better roll up the carpet, I’m not having it stained. William, stop gawping and get out of the way. In fact get out entirely.’

‘What?’ Angelus’s head swung up. ‘What do you mean, get out? He’s part of this.’

‘I’m not having his blood in the mix, he’s too weak.’

‘If he doesn’t take part he won’t be included in the protection, he won’t be part of the blood-bond.’

‘Precisely. So he won’t weaken the spell for the rest of us. He’s not taking part, Angelus, and that is my last word on the matter.’

The two older vampires’ eyes met in silence for a long time. Angelus was gently soothing his hand over Drusilla’s hair, petting and reassuring her; she was still rubbing sultrily against him. At last he patted her softly and she pulled away. He stood up. ‘William, go and wait in the hall.’

Darla smirked and grabbed William’s arm, pushing him roughly out of the room. ‘Sit there,’ she said, pointing at the bottom step of the staircase. ‘And don’t move until you’re called for.’ She brushed past him, going upstairs.

William stared after her then abruptly sat down, resting his forearms on his knees. He fiddled with the cigar, which he was still holding, and blinked once or twice. Darla returned, carrying an ornate wooden box, and went back into the drawing-room. She very firmly shut the door behind her.

‘Very well, Drusilla, here is the sacred sand, mark out the circle. Angelus, light the candles. I’ll arrange the herbs.’ They started the complex business of setting up for the ritual, talking softly amongst themselves the while.

Outside in the hall, William sat, playing with the forgotten cigar. Every now and then he screwed his eyes tight shut for a second, as if they were hurting him. His vampire hearing was acute, and every word said in that room always carried clear into the hall to any vampire who, when coming back quickly from a short errand, might chance to stop outside and listen.

Especially if the door was left open.

Allwood was not a coward. He told himself this several times as he carefully donned his demon face and rapped on the door to Angelus’s study: whatever happened, from now on he would know that he was not a coward. He bowed very low on entering and then decided to play it safe and went down on one knee. ‘Master, I have to inform you that Mistress Drusilla and Master William are not in the house. Jacob says he saw them leave at sunset.’

It took Angelus three days to find them. His first clue was the newspaper torn to shreds in William’s room. When pieced together the violence seemed to originate around a small notice in the marriages’ column.

Cholmondeley : Adams - On
the 12th inst., at St Michael’s
Church, Cornhill, by the Rev.
P. F. Snowley, James Edgar
M.D. M.A. to Cecily Anne,
eldest daughter of R. R. Adams
esq. of Godalming, Surrey.

The name Cecily had been obliterated with a pin.

Somehow William had got hold of a young man who had been a guest at the wedding, and the young vampires had played until he told them what they wanted to know. Angelus found this out from a hospital orderly who had tended the victim.

‘You’re a reporter with the Morning Correspondent, did you say, sir?’ The stout orderly sucked on his teeth speculatively.

Angelus smiled reassuringly and placed a sovereign in an obvious place on the top of the table in the quiet corner of the grubby hostelry, where he had run the man to earth; then he beckoned over the barmaid.

‘Well, I always like to assist the press in bringing these events to the public gaze, sir.’ He craned his head to look at Angelus’s notebook. ‘That’s Albert, with an A. Oh very kind sir, another pint if you please. Yes, as I was saying, the poor young gentleman could barely talk, he were that close to heaven’s gate, as my missus always puts it. But he did say as the vicious cruel couple what did this to him, wanted to know all about some wedding and the police had to be called.’ He leaned forward with a ghoulish gleam in his eye. ‘But the question is, sir, what wedding? I mean there are a deal of weddings in this country, now aren’t there, as I told the policeman. But I can tell you, sir, that copper, he’s as good as horribly murdered that young couple in their beds. He’ll regret it come morning, that policeman will. For I told him, and I would be greatly obliged if you’ll write down as such, that the young gent, his name was Davis I do believe, the young gent, as I was saying, he kept mumbling, “hanged and quartered, hanged and quartered.” And the policeman, he didn’t think nothing of it, said it was just ramblings, but I know what that means, I do. Means the Hanged and Quartered Inn up the river near Maidenhead, does that. My missus and me, we went on an outing there once, we did, an’ it’s not a name as you forget. Told the policeman an’ all, but he weren’t interested. Well, he’ll regret it, come tomorrow, you mark my words.’

Angelus did mark his words. He left Darla to deal with the household and followed the scent of blood west.

He found the truants rutting in a pool of gore amidst twenty corpses. William smiled when Angelus came in, and lounged back against the young couple who had not lived long enough to regret honeymooning at the small hotel instead of in Italy. ‘Hello, Sire. We were going to send you a postcard.’ He languidly wiped a trail of blood from his lips.

Dru started to shake. ‘William, he is ever so cross. Did we do something naughty?’

‘He’s always cross. And didn’t I promise you you’d enjoy yourself, Princess?’

Her rapt eyes sparkled in dread and awe as she looked between William and her sire. ‘Oh William, you are such a bad, bad dog.’

‘Not a dog, Dru. I’m a vampire.’

Twenty four hours later Angelus had to send for Allwood to help him get the still unconscious bodies of William and Drusilla to the new lair, which meant that Darla was furious at having had even less help than usual for the now unavoidable move.

Eventually, the police discovered the abandoned old house, and informed Mr and Mrs Philpott in Zurich that regrettably their staff must have absconded with most of the valuables, and then thieves broken in, during their absence. Only the frustrated lynch mob of other vampires, who had come round the previous night, ever discovered all the bodies buried in the garden.

In their new house, Dru cried every day for a fortnight for the loss of the rocking horse; and William couldn’t comfort her because for the next two months, as promised, Angelus kept him on a twelve-foot long chain.

It was during that time that William really got to know the man who was his sire. When he first woke up the chain was already attached to his wrist, although the pain was so enveloping that he thought he would never move again anyway. The narrow steel bracelet was the first thing he saw, and then the fine, silvery bright links snaking up above his head, which clinked slightly as something above him moved. He gradually worked out that he was lying face down on a bedroom floor, and that the other end of the chain was being held by someone up on the bed. He lifted his eyes and a pair of dark brown ones met them.

‘Woken up, I see.’

William couldn’t think of anything to reply to this, and after a moment Angelus returned to reading his book. William watched him for a while, running his tongue along his dry lips from time to time because it was the only movement that didn’t hurt. ‘Hungry,’ he said, eventually.

‘I can’t think why. You fed off a score of people not three days ago.’

William smiled wryly. ‘That was fun.’ He half expected a lecture, but Angelus just turned the page and ignored him. I killed that bitch, William thought. It was worth it.

The pain just – was. There was nothing he could do about it, so he tried to think about other things. It seemed to come and go in great waves and when it was at its worst he whimpered and buried his forehead against his hands. At other times he simply lay there, or slept.

Angelus moved around the room a little, but mostly he only sat and read. A minion brought in two silver tankards of blood on a tray, and Angelus came and knelt beside William and pulled him up, holding the mug so he could drink; though the flood of pain almost made him spew it back up again. He felt better afterwards though.

Once he woke to find Angelus had gone and the chain was attached to the bed instead: and he felt oddly worried and bereft. But when he woke again his sire was back

The day after that he could move a bit more, though it still hurt agonisingly. Angelus came and examined his wounds, making him flex the fingers of his broken arm to check that they were all still working.

‘How’s Dru, Sire?’ William asked.

‘Recovering. She’s found the energy to cry.’

‘Does she blame me?’

‘Drusilla has a very shaky grasp of the concept of cause and effect. She will hate someone if the voices in her head tell her to, not because of something they actually did. Of course,’ Angelus said deadpan, ‘sometimes the voices are put there by me.’

The next day a book appeared in front of his nose.

‘Read that.’

‘What is it?’

‘An account of the vampire clans indigenous to Great Britain. Since you seem intent on antagonising all of them, you might as well learn a bit about them.’

After four more days he could sit up, the wounds were all closed, and the bones starting to knit. Angelus made him wash and dress; and he padded around after his sire, discovering just how Angelus spent his time.

The household took far more controlling than William had ever suspected. The minions were unreliable and volatile, requiring constant supervision for even the simplest tasks. Each minion was additional security against the ever-present threat of other demon gangs or over-suspicious humans, but they also meant yet another mouth to feed. The hunting patterns had to be carefully planned to ensure that they did not attract any more attention in the wrong quarters, and then someone had to insist that everybody stuck to it. Most of all, discipline had to be maintained, when the long enforced closeness of the daylight hours led to the inevitable squabbles, and it was Angelus who had to settle disputes and mete out justice. The minions were young for the most part. Clanless vampires who had lost or left their families and were bound to Angelus by little more than the understanding that in return for a degree of deference, and a very little service, they could share in the benefits of his territory and the experience and safety of a group. That and the not inconsiderable force of habit. He kept their respect with his fists and his fangs, but William understood now why his sire would lock himself away in his study for hours at a time, where no one could see the tiredness on his face.

William would sit at his feet, lolling back against the side of the desk whilst Angelus read or, most unexpectedly, sketched. Angelus only drew studies of people. Those around him in all their different moods, strangers he had snatched a glimpse of on the streets, someone he was infatuated with; all drawn from memory with a skilled and surprisingly gentle hand. It was something he only did alone. When they were in the drawing-room with Darla and Dru he would smoke and talk or read the papers, but he never touched a pencil. He didn’t seem to mind William watching though, and when his childe asked for a piece of paper to try his own fist at it, he moved the manacle from his left wrist to the right to make it more convenient.

William couldn’t draw from memory. He tried to picture his mother in his mind and found her face had no features he could pinpoint any more. So he drew what was in front of him: his sire frowning over a book of Chinese battle strategy; Dru sitting by the fire and combing witch patterns in her long hair; Darla and Angelus entwined together in sleep. His style was bolder and harder than his sire’s, less precise, slightly juvenile, working fast as he tried to catch the fleeting emotions around him.

Angelus read the overlong title he had penned under one drawing and remarked ‘You should write poetry some day.’

William snatched the paper back, and screwed it up into a ball, hurling it into the fire. ‘Vampires don’t write poetry, you bloody stupid bastard.’

Angelus let him rage on for just long enough that he thought he was getting away with it; then he abruptly took the strap out, bent him over the desk and thrashed him, William spitting out curses the while. But half an hour later, when William was sitting sulkily leaning against Angelus’s chair in the drawing-room, the young vampire felt a gentle rubbing on his nape and then strong fingers playing through his hair. After a while he was puzzled to hear a soft thrumming sound. It was only when Dru, lying kicking her feet in front of the fire, remarked ‘Listen, Daddy, William’s purring,’ that he understood what it was.

He slept on the floor beside Angelus’s bed for the first few days, listening whilst Darla and Angelus coupled or bickered or chatted above him. Darla soon dropped any pretence of restraint in his presence and after a week she commented, ‘Well, if he’s going to be here he might as well make himself useful.’

Angelus pulled him up onto the bed and lay reclining on one elbow watching with an amused expression whilst Darla taught William more in an hour than Dru had in a month.

Half way through William became aware of another hand working against his back and down to between his legs. His eyes widened and he instantly tried to swing round, but Darla immediately enfolded him in her arms, murmuring nonsense, and the other contact stilled. He was still stiff and nervous as she teased his mouth open with her lips and began a languorous kiss. Then as he began to relax he felt the hand move again, gentler but adamant, something between a caress and a clasp, and Angelus began to croon reassurance in his ear. He wanted to protest, plead with him to wait, anything; but his tongue was clamped between Darla’s teeth so he couldn’t cry out as the cold shaft pushed slowly inside him and he felt his sire gradually begin to thrust. She held him closely and he felt a corresponding grip on the back of his neck, controlling and steadying him as the pressure built. He squeezed his eyes shut. And by the time he was released he only wanted to yell in fulfilment.

Shortly after they had all come, he felt the older vampires lunge across him and plunge into each other’s necks. He slipped out between them and was firmly pushed aside as his elders locked in the embrace of vampire blood-play. The honey and sulphur scent of dark, demon blood roused his desire and his eyes turned golden, but he knew better than to try and join in any more. This was something far beyond mere sex.

After a few days Dru asked if she could join them; she was clearly growing jealous of the attention William was getting. But William found he didn’t want to share. He snarled at Dru, a feral sound that seemed to come automatically out of him, and Dru looked at him furiously then turned away as coldly as an ice queen. She refused to let him near her and he had to sit on his own with his back to the bed, whilst the other three made love. Afterwards he went to Dru and hung his head for her to shout at him, until she relented and he tried to make it up to her in a tangle of sheets and sweat and the chain getting wrapped around their limbs.

It no longer seemed odd to be called ‘boy’, or to spend a morning watching whilst Angelus experimented with new torture methods on a victim. William hunted or played around during the night and slept during the day, and he didn’t bother to sit and stare at the butterflies dancing in the sunlight. He refused to show fear, because he desperately didn’t want Angelus or Dru to think him a coward, but every other emotion that he had been frustrated in expressing all his life he allowed himself to revel in. Until sailing up on the crest of strength, speed, rage and love was his constant addiction. And he didn’t worry anymore about never feeling ashamed, because he had forgotten that he ever used to.

He called Angelus, ‘Sire’ and Darla, ‘Madam’; while Dru was his lover, his infuriating sister, his partner in crime, and his deliriously wonderful Princess. Angelus habitually treated him like a schoolboy, and beat him often for insolence or disobedience, or for no apparent reason at all. He threatened to kill him about once a week. But he also taught him how to be a vampire; and after he broke his leg falling off a roof it was Angelus who carried him home and splinted the injury with his own hands.

And when he sat at his sire’s feet with the large hand gently stroking his head and the quiet purring seemed to rise up of its own accord, he no longer felt human.

One afternoon, Angelus pushed him out of bed early and told him to get dressed, then led him down to the large empty dining room, where he produced the key and gestured for William to hold out his wrist. William met his sire’s eye in surprise, as the manacle was removed, sudden hope surging to overwhelm common sense.

‘Last night,’ Angelus said sternly.

William dropped his head. The previous night had not been one of his better moments. He had been told to attract the attention of a street hawker, but had somehow only succeeded in antagonising the man, and they had ended up scuffling in the middle of the street. He had at least not repeated the mistake of changing into his demon face and had been having great good fun, right up until the moment when Angelus had stepped in and received a stray fist across the cheek. The purple blue bruise was still horribly visible, as Darla had not failed to point out as they were dressing. Not that William didn’t have plenty of bruises of his own, since Angelus had taken him to a quiet alley and kicked and pummelled some sense of contrition into him for five minutes or so afterwards.

‘I don’t know what went wrong,’ William mumbled.

‘I know you don’t. I do. And you have no idea how to fight, do you?’

William looked up. ‘No.’

‘Have you ever done any boxing, fencing, wrestling?’

William shook his head.

‘Good. You won’t have any silly notions to unlearn.’ And they dragged the heavy furniture aside and then Angelus started to show him what his fists were really for.

An hour later, William sank down onto his haunches against the cool wall. Angelus came and settled beside him.

‘Why am I heaving for air if I don’t need to breathe?’ William asked between laboured gasps.

‘Your body remembers that it should, even though your mind knows different. It will forget in time.’

‘How much time?’

‘A hundred years or so.’

‘God.’ He tilted his head back against the wall. ‘I can’t ever quite grasp just how old you and Darla are.’ He cocked a cautious eye. ‘How old are you, exactly?’ Angelus ignored him. ‘Sorry.’ He thought it best to shut up.

‘What year is it?’ Angelus said, after a while.

‘Eighteen-eighty.’

‘A hundred and thirty. Roughly.’

‘Blimey.’ William thought about this. ‘Sire, can I ask a question?’ There was a sort of undefined grunt which probably meant yes. ‘What do you think I’m doing wrong with Dru?’

‘Why do you consider you’re doing anything wrong?’

He picked at a non-existent bit of fluff on his trouser leg. ‘I can’t make her come.’ Angelus said nothing. ‘I’ve tried. I mean, Darla’s shown me things. And I didn’t even know that women could come until… But whatever I do Dru just lies there. She doesn’t seem unhappy, just not involved.’ He glanced at the older vampire beside him and there was just a hint of whine in his voice as he said, ‘She does it for you.’

Angelus smiled. ‘Some things, Will, you are going to have to work out for yourself.’

‘Don’t tell me: it’ll take a hundred years or so.’

Angelus was watching a beetle scuttering across the carpet towards a thin bar of sunlight where they hadn’t closed the curtains properly. He reached out and pinched it between thumb and forefinger, turning it over so its legs flailed helplessly in the air with little clockwork jerks. ‘You need to come out of your head a bit, Will. Start looking at what’s around you instead of just yourself. The world’s far too interesting a place to spend all your time in dreamland.’ He handed his childe the beetle. ‘Here. Put that in a matchbox and give it to Dru. It won’t make her come but it will make her smile.’

William took it carefully and fished out a box with his other hand. He studied the insect for a second before locking it away. It was large and plain black, but with a violet and green iridescence hidden in the shell that belied the simple colour. He tucked it safely in his pocket and then stood up because Angelus had.

‘Wrist,’ the master vampire said; and snapped the manacle back on.

William hated his chain. Twelve foot long meant he couldn’t even walk to the far side of the room on his own. And he’d always considered he would like more company before, but now the total absence of privacy was driving him to desperation. Besides, Angelus was getting tetchy as well. William particularly resented this since Angelus could at least dictate where they went and when. But Angelus was an intensely private person at heart, who needed long hours of solitude for his own peace of mind, and the constant presence of another was in fact more galling to him than to his childe. However it had become a matter of pride for Angelus not to alter the arrangement, however personally inconvenient he found it. And, as the inevitable closest, William bore the brunt of his annoyance.

William felt permanently on a knife-edge of temper; the frustration he was unable to express in Angelus’s presence any other way exploding on every human he met. His kills became messier, his fights longer and the risks he took more outrageous. They started to call him William the Bloody, and didn’t understand why he was so savagely cynical about the name. He began to rag the minions relentlessly, until Angelus put a very firm stop to it. But the fragile balance of loyalties had already suffered and Angelus took to hunting the entire clan as a pack, in an effort to keep them all under his eye.

Yet, for William, hunting was the only relief, when the chain had to be taken off for practical reasons. Even then, though, he was forbidden to step out of his sire’s line of sight. But the temptation was too strong and in the unpredictable chaos of the chase he pushed his boundary to the limit, and beyond.

Then, inevitably, one night William strayed too far and missed Angelus’s signal to move on. Angelus, always distracted by the difficulties of controlling the whole pack in a crowded street, didn’t notice that he had left William behind. William genuinely tried to catch up, made a wild guess at the next junction, and the next; and then finally accepted that he had lost them completely.

He stood at the cross-roads, looking and feeling like an abandoned pup. The sensible thing to do would be to stay put until he was found, or else to get up on a roof and try to spot them from there. But the rational part of his brain was entirely taken up with the awareness that he had dug himself into a hole so deep that the quickest way out was probably down.

He was going to be missed.

He had at most a minute.

And his fear of what Angelus would do to him when he was caught finally bubbled over into the only release he could find. In the middle of the West-end theatre crowd he changed into his true face, and hurled a passer-by that had bumped into him straight through a restaurant window.

Within minutes he found himself in the centre of the biggest street brawl he had ever imagined. The extraordinarily large group of friends of the casualty, most of the restaurant waiters, and a number of enthusiastic bystanders were all trying to detain the supposed lunatic until the police arrived. And from the harsh sound of rattles the police were in fact approaching fast. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw Allwood, and behind him, Angelus.

Even the master vampire seemed dumbfounded by the situation for a second.

William ducked and swiped frantically, desperately trying to remember everything Angelus had ever taught him. He was getting repeatedly pummelled and kicked though, and the sheer weight of numbers was beginning to tell. There was blood streaming into his eyes from a cut on his forehead and he had no idea what to do next. Finally he gave his sire a look of hopeless pleading.

And, without time for fancy tactics, Angelus led his pack straight at the charge.

With eight vampires involved there was little doubt of the outcome. It took barely a moment to extract William and then they all left, pursued for nearly a mile by the outraged mob.

After another mile or two for safety, Angelus gradually slowed the pace and in a dark side street he at last called them to a halt. The big vampire stood and looked at his youngest childe.

It was Dru who said out loud what they were all thinking. ‘Now what’s he going to do?’

Angelus was suddenly all action. ‘Drusilla, take the lads. No, not you, Allwood.’

Dru nodded. ‘The wheel turns and the king flies off into the air, but little birdies don’t have wings.’

‘That’s right. I’ll join you soon, my girl.’

William just stared, his fists clenched at his sides and his face set and white.

But Darla was clearly only waiting until the others were out of earshot. ‘Well? Are we actually going to discuss this, Angelus?’

‘Do I have any choice?’

‘Of course you have the choice!’

‘I think it’s obvious what has to be done.’

She looked at him steadily, and then her face fell. ‘I don’t believe it, Angelus!’ she shrieked. ‘We came here because you wanted this. You, Angelus, not me. You wanted to play at being a master, with minions and a territory. It has taken years and I gave up a great deal for this! I like London. I like having respect and servants and a carriage and a proper family. And you promised me, Angelus. You promised!’

‘On the contrary, Darla, you promised me.’

‘But of course you can’t live up to it, can you. Oh no, Angelus can never take on a responsibility like that. Angelus can’t ever stick with anything. He’ll have an obsession that will drag us half way across the globe but three days later we have to come all the way back again!’

‘Woman, one thing we do not have is the time for one of your tirades.’

William was on the verge of running. He had been close before but never so close. The reasons against were the same as ever: he had nowhere to go, he didn’t want to be alone, he would probably be killed within a month without anyone to help him, and however fast he ran Angelus would as like as not catch him. But for the first time it might be the most attractive option. As if reading his thoughts, Allwood put a hand on his shoulder. William growled threateningly and shrugged it off. ‘You aren’t supposed to touch me without his permission.’

‘True. But I don’t fancy letting you leave either.’ He replaced his hand. ‘She’s quite right about his obsessions you know. It’s hard to keep him interested. Makes for an unusual sort of life.’

‘Not alive, Allwood.’

‘No. So I’ve been told.’

‘Get your sodding hands off me!’ he snarled; and Allwood actually backed off a pace with eyes submissively lowered for just a second.

‘Boy! Come here.’ Angelus gave him a hard look, then turned back to Darla briefly. ‘You can manage?’

‘Yes, Angelus, I can manage. I’ve packed up by myself five times already this year, and Drusilla will help. Just tell me where to go.’

‘It’s called Hanwell. The train is from Paddington. From there we can go on and catch the train north, tomorrow night. Don’t forget my dressing case.’ He watched her walk away.

William knew he had either to run or to try and fight back.

‘It’s interesting having you around, Master William,’ Allwood said. ‘A right royal pain in the neck, but not run of the mill.’

William ignored him because Angelus had just snapped his fingers. ‘I said come here, boy.’ William still didn’t move. ‘Allwood, fetch me a branch from that tree.’ Angelus grabbed William and positioned him. ‘Now don’t you dare move an inch,’ he said in a low and deadly voice.

Allwood brought back a stout limb, which he placed in Angelus’s outstretched hand.

‘I’m going to teach you a lesson, boy.’ Angelus swung his arm up and William flinched as the stick whistled back and struck Allwood full across the face, knocking him to the ground. The master vampire stamped his boot on his minion’s neck with a crunch that told the bones had shattered.

Allwood’s voice-box was crushed so only a strange bubbling sound came out when Angelus knelt down and cradled his head in his arms. ‘Don’t let them suspect what is about to happen; disable them quickly; then you put your arms like so, twist and pull sharply back and out, and you move quickly if you don’t want to get a mouthful of ash as they explode.’ He stood up dusting his hands. ‘It actually takes less force than you would expect. Oh and, William, when I tell you to come to me, you come.’

‘Why did you just kill Allwood?’

‘For the same reason that Darla and Dru are currently staking the others. Thanks to you we need to travel fast, without unnecessary baggage, and they know too much about us to risk leaving them loose.’

‘Am I supposed to feel guilty about them?’

‘I would kill you right now if you did. You are a vampire. You do not have a conscience and your only loyalty should be to your bloodline. Which leaves us to concentrate on the ever-present problem of where we can go that is sure to be safe from tomorrow’s sun. Fortunately we are lucky this time: we have a place where we won’t be turned away, don’t we.’

‘Hanwell,’ William said flatly.

‘Hanwell,’ Angelus agreed.

The parlour-maid answered the door. She was new and didn’t know her business, and invited the strangers in despite the lateness of the hour.

‘The master is in his study. Would you gentlemen please wait a moment.’

William gazed dully at the mirror-backed coat stand in the hall, then abruptly turned his back on it. Angelus was watching him closely. ‘He’s working late,’ he remarked.

‘He always does.’

The maid came back and showed them in, holding the door politely. Angelus breezed through. ‘Hello, parson.’

The vicar didn’t respond: he was looking at his son.

‘So,’ he said after a while, ‘it was you I saw that night, Billy. You had better both have a seat.’

Angelus went and leant against a bookshelf. ‘You know, tonight was going badly. Suddenly it’s more promising.’ He took out a pocket-knife and started to trim his nails.

William looked at his father, who was very clearly on the verge of tears and only holding them back because of the stranger in the room. Then he looked at his sire, big and confidant and clearly enjoying himself.

‘Fuck this.’ His father’s head flew up while his sire gave a snort of laughter. ‘What is this, Angelus? Am I supposed to choose between you?’

‘What makes you think you have a choice? I’m just giving you a chance to prove you are worth keeping around.’

‘Billy, please tell me what is going on. Who is this man? And how did—’

‘Oh you want dramatic gestures do you? You want me to say “Billy is dead” and “Who’s the weakling now, Father”. Well sod that. Sod that and sod you, Angelus. And you can keep your bloody hands away from my throat for once. Did it ever occur to you that I might actually have liked my life and my family? That my father and I got on perfectly well and I respected and admired him? Bloody hell, I loved him.

‘I love you, Pa. I never quite bothered to say it, but I’m saying it now. I love you. I… Oh fuck, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I feel any more. Can I kill him now, please, Sire? Or is it going to amuse you to torture them all slowly in front of me. I’d call that predictable, but what the hell, you call the tune. As usual you call the whole bloody tune.’ He grabbed the desk lamp and hurled it into the fire where the oil in it blazed out a whoosh of flame that took several seconds to die down. The two older men stared at him, shocked motionless.

It was his father who recovered first. ‘Thank you, Billy, I hope you know that I love you too.’

William closed his eyes and hung his head.

Angelus walked over, helped himself to a cigar out of the box on the desk, clipped it, and with exaggerated casualness lit it from the waning fire. ‘Almost amusing. Keep trying.’

‘Bow-wow,’ William said. He looked up at his father. ‘Who’s here, Pa? My mother? My sisters?’

‘Alice is staying with friends. Your mother, Daisy, Kitty, and Edith are here.’

‘And there’s a cook and two maids, Angelus. The gardener sleeps out.’

‘You’re learning.’

‘I had a strict master.’

‘You still have. For now.’

‘Billy, if you need my help, if this man has somehow got a hold over you: you know you only have to ask.’

Angelus smiled and moved up behind William, he slipped both arms around his waist and rested his chin on William’s shoulder. ‘Ever wondered what this little boy gets up to at night, Mr parson?’

‘I think I know my own son better than you do, sir, whatever you may have terrorised him into these last few months.’

‘Terrorised? Tell him, Will, how often do I beat you?’

‘Just about every night.’

‘And how often do I bugger you?’

‘Every night.’

‘And which do you prefer?’ Angelus pulled him up closer and rubbed slow but powerful against his back. William shook his head miserably. ‘And how often do you steal, or rape, or lure little children from their mothers arms at my bidding? And Will, how often do you… kill?’

William said nothing.

‘Do you want it to stop?’

There was no answer but a small whimper.

Angelus placed a gentle kiss on his neck. ‘So what do you have to say to your Daddy?’

‘Let me go,’ William said. And Angelus released his hold and took a step back. ‘Pa, do you remember when we used to sit and talk all night about the nature of faith?’ He took another step closer to his father. ‘Do you remember that? Remember how I used to love those talks. Just you and me; into the small hours sometimes, more like friends than father and son. And I used to ask you if there could ever be worthwhile belief if there was definitive proof of God. We could argue that point endlessly! Well I’ve found my proof, and faith certainly has no point anymore: because I’ve met the devil. And he’s bigger than me, and stronger, and so fast you can’t see him move; and temptation isn’t about nobly struggling to resist. It’s about a need so strong it steals your whole soul and release like nothing you’ve ever known. And I want it, Pa. I want it so badly I hurt for it all the time. And he’s the only one who can give it to me.’

The good old man only looked at him. With the sorrow welling up in his pale watery eyes and a gaze of such misery, and longing, and pity on his face that the cruellest and most iron bound soul on the earth would have paused. For seven long heartbeats he looked, then he pushed himself up from his chair and very stiffly sunk down to his knees. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. ‘Our Father, who—’

‘No!’

William and Angelus sprang at him together, but William was closest and got there first. ‘Don’t do it. Don’t!’ he yelled, even as the soft words rose up and started to pound like hammers at his brain. Angelus changed and a deep growl resonated around the room. The elderly priest stumbled and tried to begin again. William changed too then, and he snarled back at Angelus, his shoulders lifted and his head held low, but he was standing as stiff and tall as a young wolf guarding its kill. ‘Mine,’ he spat.

‘Don’t push me, whelp. My patience has been sorely tried tonight.’

‘Mine,’ William repeated.

His father’s voice quavered to a halt as he admitted the irredeemable truth of what his son had become. In the silence, Angelus returned to his beautiful human face.

‘Choose then. Only don’t let him start that cursed mumbling again.’

‘What’s this, Angelus? The gift of free will?’

‘Why not. You’ve been on a leash long enough. Time to slip your collar, I think, and see if you still come when I whistle.’

‘You bastard.’

Angelus only smiled at that.

‘What happens if I don’t?’

‘Oh no. Choice is choice, little fledgling. I’m not showing you the carrot or the stick until afterwards.’

‘Billy, you are a good man. Look in your heart and you will know the right thing to do. Listen to your conscience.’

He couldn’t see the long fangs in his son’s mouth or the cruel ridges on his brow.

‘Truly look, my boy, past what you have been told, past what you remember, look at what is really there, at what you really feel for this man.’

William looked.

And then he went over to his father and cradled him in his arms. ‘Put my hands so,’ he said, ‘and pull sharply aside and up, and turn away quickly so you can’t taste the ashes in your mouth.’ Then he bent over and kissed his father on the throat. ‘I looked, Pa. But what else could I do? I don’t have a soul any more.’

William sat back on his heels. ‘What now?’

Angelus smiled. ‘You know what happens next, Will. We find the others, keep one to invite the girls in, and deal with the rest.’

‘No, I meant about you and me. What now between us?’ He looked up at his sire. ‘Am I still your fledgling?’

‘You’re a fledgling for as long as I say so, little one. The day you’re grown up enough to be considered one of us, I’ll tell you. Now stop dawdling and go and gather some more humans, before your elders and betters start to loose patience.’

Half an hour later Angelus came into the kitchen, where William was sitting gazing morosely into space.

‘You’re in an uncommonly sulky mood tonight, Will.’

‘And you’re in an uncommonly good one, considering what’s happened.’

Angelus flicked him none too gently across the back of his head. ‘Mind your manners. I don’t justify myself to you.’

William sighed. ‘No Sire.’

‘You’ve accounted for everyone?’

‘Yes Sire.’

‘Kept one back?’

‘Yes Sire.’

‘Which?’

‘That idiot parlour-maid, Sire. She’s tied up in the broom-cupboard.’

‘Good.’ Angelus stretched his arms behind his head with a wide gaping yawn, which he changed into his demon face. ‘We’ve got at least an hour before the girls appear. Take your clothes off.’

William pushed himself wearily up and started to do so, casting a gloomy glance over the varied cooking implements the kitchen contained. It was not a good place to have been found, but he was aware that he had made his choice and this was part of it. The pain won’t last for ever, he tried to tell himself. It’s going to hurt like hell but it will pass.

Angelus was stripping off his coat and shirt as well, folding them neatly and placing them on the dresser. ‘Come here, Will.’ He placed a hand on his childe’s shoulder. ‘Suck me off, lad.’

William obediently knelt. He couldn’t help thinking about his first time. But he knew what he was doing now and he could feel his own need rising even as he serviced his sire’s. He didn’t dare touch himself though. Angelus was thrusting hard and fast and deep, and when he climaxed it was so far inside his childe that there was no risk of a drop being spilt. He pulled out quickly. ‘Stand up.’

William stood, his own erection already fully, achingly apparent. Angelus grinned and brushed it once. He too was remembering the day William had learnt to control his face. Then hastily Angelus bobbed down and enclosed it in his own mouth, changing back into his human face as he did so. William gasped in surprise as his sire worked incredibly skilfully and briskly to make him come. He couldn’t believe it: of all the things he had been dreading and expecting that had not been one of them.

The mouth withdrew from his now relaxed member. Then William felt a lazy tongue lick casually at his inner thigh. He had been gazing at the ceiling but he quickly looked down. There was another lazy lapping stroke; one that worked upwards that time, past his groin and onto the taut muscles of his stomach. His sire gradually stood up, licking slowly higher and higher in a soothing calming ascent, until he was once more towering over William. Then he nipped gently at William’s shoulder, and the young vampire at last understood what was happening. His blue eyes met the brown ones of his sire. ‘Please,’ he growled, his voice low and gravelly. ‘Oh God yes, please, Sire.’

Angelus nodded once and their fangs slid out in unison.

The master vampire reached out and took both William’s hands, interlacing their fingers; then he raised his right arm, lifting William’s left up with it. He started to trail a single fang down along the length of his childe’s radial vein, the dagger point pushing firmly, but not quite penetrating the skin. Angelus carefully raised their other hands so his own forearm was in front of William’s face, and William started to copy him.

William felt the strange gritty ripple through his sensitive fang and an answering tickling quiver in his arm. Angelus pressed harder and William returned it, starting right up on the delicate skin of the palm that time. And then abruptly Angelus raced back and returned, quick hard strokes, repeated faster and faster. So that William caught the pulse of the increasing rhythm and matched him beat for beat. He felt the tingling grow in his dead limb as the sluggish blood started to stir and flow, pushed round by the ferocious drive of the vampires’ fangs. Veins that had felt no life pass through them for an eternity of days and months, swelled and pulsed with it, throbbing and driving. Until the vampires at last carried their strokes right into the crook of their arms and bit, sucking deep with powerful pulls. Making the blood move between them then, a strong dark circulation of each other that William could feel drawing everything round from the furthest reaches of his dead limbs, in a rich swirl of lust and the stolen lives he had taken.

His family’s life force passed through and around him. His loving, fond, foolish, determined father; his over protective, nagging, adoring, oddly practical mother; his sweet, giggling baby sisters; the fat old cook who used to make him gingerbread when he was small; the pert little housemaid who had always blushed when she met him in the corridor. All passing through the dark, ancient, secret depths of his wonderful, omnipotent, all consuming sire. Angelus. His sire. Who took and overpowered them all and ground them into insignificant little specks, as individually unimportant as the dust-motes dancing in a beam of moonlight are to the moon itself.

His sire.

Angelus.

He had lost all sense of time or place when Angelus gradually began to slow the pace and they finally pulled out from each other. William found that at some stage they had sunk down to their knees, though he had no memory of it; and utterly spent he leant forward and rested his head against his sire’s broad shoulder. Angelus tilted his own head and rested his chin on his childe’s neck. Their hands were still clasped tighter than lovers. As the ringing in William’s ears faded he became aware that they were both purring. For a long time he stayed like that, feeling utterly safe and belonging.

Angelus gradually pried his fingers open one at a time and lifted up his head. ‘Come along.’ He patted him gently on the shoulder. ‘Time to get on.’

William sniffed and pulled himself up. He stood in front of his sire, head submissively lowered. ‘I belong to you, Sire,’ he stated.

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to punish me for what I did?’

‘Do I need to?’

‘No.’ And oddly enough, at that moment, it seemed to be true.

‘Then no. Though I’ve no doubt you will be behaving like an incorrigible snotty brat again within the week.’

‘I won’t, Sire.’

‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Will.’

‘But I don’t understand: you aren’t angry any more.’

Angelus shrugged. ‘It gets repetitive after a time. Besides, having to organise all those minions was getting to be a pain. Far too much effort. I’d have probably staked them all soon anyway.’

‘But… but you’re a master vampire!’

‘Which means I’ve earned the right to do whatever I please. Doesn’t it? Anyway Dru believes it’s time to move on, and I never ignore her advice.’ This was clearly a joke. ‘Ever been to the North Country, Will?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘You’ll like Yorkshire. The people are tough as leather, but their blood is strong and clean.’

‘Are there many vampires up there? Will we have to fight for a territory?’

‘A few. And no doubt you will be after getting their attention.’

‘I—’

Angelus stopped him with a kiss. ‘What did I tell you about promises, Will?’

‘Don’t make promises you won’t keep.’

‘Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep – what?’

William rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Don’t make anything you don’t intend to keep, Sire.’