Wild Demonic Fauna – Part II

The cluster of minions in the spacious hallway were lounging around in various attitudes suggestive of alert cruelty, muscular brutality, or bored stupidity, depending on if they were concentrating or not. The usual banal, bragging conversation was taking place, although in hushed tones so as not to draw the attention of the authority upstairs. The main topic seemed to be the chances of the various contenders in the prize-fight to be held in the cellar of the Black Dog later that night, with an angry discussion as to if decapitation counted as a foul in an amateur friendly match. Harold, the Head Minion, was stoutly claiming that the chances of Tommy the Teeth McAllen would suffer if it were disallowed, and few had the nerve to disagree with him. Murphy – who was the resident tout of Angelus’s household – was organising a book.

Will was perched on a step of the staircase, trying to ignore the distractions as he studied a volume bearing the title The Compass of the Hunt: an introductory treatise for fledgling childer. For once he was doing more than look at the most gruesome woodcuts.

With one hand he plucked at a damp patch on the knee of his trousers, that had been left by an afternoon spent alongside the junior minions scrubbing blood off the floors. While with the other he turned the page with a worried frown, lost in the three hundred and forty seven elementary classifications of costermongers. A pointed jab at his back made him sit up, and he leapt to his feet as Angelus and Darla swept past without another glance in his direction. Dru though stopped, and studied him thoughtfully. ‘Is it a story book?’

He shushed her quickly.

‘Well is it?’ she asked loudly.

‘No. Hush Dru.’

‘Well, what is it then?’

‘Dru, shut up.’

‘If you have quite finished, boy?’ Angelus said sarcastically. Will tried to look innocent. Angelus made sure every eye was fixed on him before speaking again. ‘Damon, Amelia, Ruben – you will be working with your mistress tonight, driving in the Water Hole.’ The chosen minions grinned and Will felt a twinge of jealousy: driving was a skilled and difficult business, requiring the craft of a master vampire to organise the pack, but the chase was one of the most fun forms of hunting. ‘Dru, you go with Darla. Murphy you are on guard here; I am sure your friends can tell you what happens at the Black Dog.’ There was a snigger from the others while Murphy scowled. ‘Harold, Lusius, you come with me.’ The two minions exchanged a glance and a quiet nod. Will looked steadily at Angelus; he was the only one not yet assigned a place. Angelus was studying the window; it was curtained yet it was almost as if the master vampire could see right through to the world outside. He seemed entirely absorbed in the slender crack of sunlight peeping through, his fingers drumming a complex rhythm against his leg; oblivious to the eyes of his household all fixed hypnotically upon his tall frame. ‘It is going to be another cold night,’ he said at last. ‘We need to work fast: the humans will be under cover early. Remember there might be some labourers around who can’t work because of the weather, and there is a ship just in, so maybe a few sailors. Nobody is to go near Steeply Street without my permission. Sunset’s in ten minutes.’

The hall emptied as everyone moved to go and get ready. Angelus crooked a finger at Will.

‘Darla thinks that after that little performance this morning I ought to just thrash you and lock you in for the night. Do you have anything to say for yourself?’

Will looked down at the book, which he was still holding, and played with a loose thread where the binding was worn. He shrugged. If Angelus had decided to beat him it would happen whatever he said.

‘Don’t sulk. Do you have anything to say?’

‘You said I needed experience,’ he said sullenly. ‘How am I ever going to get any if I don’t go out?’

‘Hmm.’ Angelus held out his hand for the book and studied the title on the spine. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘You gave it to me, ages ago.’

‘Did I?’ Angelus flicked through a few pages. ‘This old thing? It’s a couple of centuries out of date now. Still, the section on tracking is quite useful. Your tracking has never been as good as it should be.’

‘Just like my everything else.’

‘The main problem with your tracking is you smoke too much. It dulls your sense of smell.’ Angelus cocked his head and seemed to be waiting for something. Will continued to stare at the floor. ‘Well, well,’ Angelus mused. ‘Aren’t you going to give me some snappy retort about how often I smoke my cigars?’

‘Please let me go with you, Sire.’

‘Darla, we have a new problem,’ Angelus called jovially to Darla, who had just reappeared from the drawing-room. ‘Will has been possessed by an unknown demon. This can’t be him – he is studying his books and not answering me back!’

Darla smiled weakly at the joke. ‘Have you seen my newspaper, Angelus? It seems to have vanished.

‘You probably left it upstairs, dear.’ She frowned and disappeared into the dining room. Angelus turned back to Will. ‘So do you want to come with me tonight?’

Will looked up sharply. He was used to being told what to do, not given an option. ‘Please, Sire.’

Angelus seemed doubtful. ‘You would rather come with me than go driving with Dru and the lads?’

‘Yes.’

‘I would expect you to do exactly as you are told and not plague me with questions.’

‘I know, Sire.’

Angelus studied him for a little longer. ‘Well why not. You will stay close to me and you will concentrate. Go and put your coat on.’

Will beamed. ‘Thanks, Sire!’ He made to go.

‘Wait!’ Angelus caught him by the chin and looked at him again. ‘Are you up to something, boy?’

‘No Sire.’

Angelus frowned and cast a glance after Darla. ‘Trying to keep out of Darla’s way, perhaps?’

‘No Sire.’

‘I’m not sure. It will be difficult, dangerous work tonight, Will. No place for a fledgling. I’ve a good mind to send you with Darla after all.’

‘Please let me come, Sire.’

‘I don’t know. You’re still so—’

‘I can do it, Sire.’

‘You don’t even know what it is we will be trying to do.’

Will set his face. ‘You’re taking Harold and Lusius, they’re the best minions; I know it’s important and difficult; I know to concentrate. And I will, Sire. I swear it: so help me, I won’t cause you any trouble.’

‘I’ve had to listen to a lot of your promises over the years, Will.’

‘I’m not a fool, Angelus, I know this is important.’

Angelus took a pace back and stuck his hands in his pockets, head lowered in thought. ‘You have one minute to get ready.’

Will didn’t dawdle long enough to let Angelus change his mind a second time. He shot to his room, quickly grabbed his cap and hunting coat, checked he had his best knife – the one Angelus had given him as a reward for his first proper kill –, pocketed a length of twine and one or two other things, and dashed back to the hall. Harold and Lusius were waiting quietly. Darla had gathered her group in the dining room and they were pouring over a map and discussing tactics.

Angelus came out of the study, just slipping a fighting axe into the inside pocket of his overcoat. It was the one Will had been punished for not cleaning and sharpening properly a few days before, and he realised with a jolt that if Angelus had not bothered to check his work then his sire would have been going out with a dull axe. He played with the knife in his pocket and wondered if that was as sharp as it should be. He suddenly felt very young and stupid, and he was on the verge of saying he had changed his mind, he would go with Darla and Dru after all, when Angelus caught his eye and grinned. Will grinned back. And the four vampires slipped out of the door and into the night.

The vampires travelled fast, by silent back streets and hidden ways. All around them the greatest city in the world caught its breath and changed pace as it finished its work and prepared for the long hard playtime of the night; while overhead the red fretted pattern of the sky bruised into velvet black, spotted with stars.

As they moved eastwards, Angelus began to slow the pace. Once or twice he paused to scent the air deeply, and the others copied him. Will could smell nothing unusual, but the second time he saw Harold and Lusius exchange glances. Will tried again, but when he still couldn’t identify anything he clamped his mouth firmly shut and watched Angelus for the next instruction. They moved off again, more cautiously than ever. Will felt a prickle form along his spine as he realised they were skirting the very edge of the territory boundary.

It was a district of small solid houses, inhabited by city clerks and petty tradesmen: too prosperous for street dwellers or the loose brutality of the slums; too thrifty to attract beggars looking for handouts. Everyone knew their neighbours and everyone had a job to go to. Poor hunting. And thus the area formed a seldom visited no-man’s-land between the vampire clans. Will expected that at any moment Angelus would turn back. They pressed on.

Another two streets and by any definition they were off their own ground. A vampire caught in another vampire’s territory was not given a rap over the knuckles and escorted to the border – if they were found they would be fighting for their lives. Before they had been spread out, automatically fanning to cover as wide a space as possible, eyes always searching for signs of possible prey. Now, instinctively, the four of them closed up, walking pair by pair, keeping to the darkest shadows. Angelus put Will between himself and the wall; and Will saw him unbutton his coat, so the axe was in easy reach.

A stream of oblivious humans poured past them in either direction, returning to their respectable little homes after their respectable day’s work. There was a continuous percussion of feet on the pavements, and the susurration of breath and heartbeats all around them. Yet no one spoke, apart from the occasional driver calling to his horse. Each human seemed wrapped in a little shell of self-absorption, isolated in the desire to get home as efficiently as possible that cold night.

Harold gave a low whine in his throat, and Angelus made a short coughing sound to indicate he was aware of the danger. Will tensed, though he knew that whatever the others had sensed the issue would not be decided in front of humans. Surrounded by hundreds of their prey – who would all turn and kill them without pause if they had had the faintest notion of what walked in their midst – the vampires, perversely, were as safe as if they had been at home in their own lair. Without making it too obvious, Will tried to look about him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow jump the street from one building to the next. They had been spotted.

Will couldn’t see how many were following them, but he doubted it was only one or two. Angelus would not have let me come if there was any real risk, he told himself. He knows what he is doing. He glanced at his sire’s face and saw it set and hard, eyes constantly flicking to scan the street around them, hand resting inside his coat, touching the handle of the axe.

Will wished he had asked to be allowed a weapon of his own, although he knew Angelus still didn’t consider him skilled enough to use one. I’m a vampire, he told himself, I shouldn’t need anything but my fists and my fangs. He wished he could change.

Angelus suddenly made a hissing sound and turned abruptly down a side street, away from the humans. As they walked further along Will heard a soft thump as something jumped to the ground: between them and the safety of the busy crowd.

‘Change,’ Angelus instructed quietly, and then they stopped.

A tall, thin vampire walked cockily towards them, two others at his back. Will cast a glance back and saw there were two more behind them, and at least one other still up on the roof.

‘Evening, Angelus, fed up with eternal life are you?’

‘Bernardo! Came to give you a bit of advice.’ Angelus casually twirled his axe around by the handle.

Bernardo gave a wolfish smile. ‘Well, well, lads, aren’t we honoured. The great Scourge of Europe stooping to speak to us.’

‘Well, Bernardo, I really wouldn’t bother, but I just can’t bear to see any gang making fools of themselves – looks so bad for the reputation of the whole city.’

‘And of course Angelus is always so concerned with appearances – seeing as he’s all talk and no substance.’

Angelus smiled. ‘You’re looking a little lacking in substance yourself, Berni. Not been eating well lately?’

There was a stiffening in the vampires around them and Bernardo snarled. ‘Whereas you’ve been dining fine well – feeding off my humans as well as your own, you poaching—’

‘Now, now, no need for name calling. Been losing a bit of prey, have you?’

‘As you perfectly well know. Only your luck ran out tonight, Angelus, the only way you will be leaving this place is blowing on the wind.’

Angelus smirked and tucked the axe back into his inside pocket; he sauntered a few paces closer to Bernardo, who advanced to meet him. ‘So I am right – the ferals we caught wandering around my domain last night have been poaching off you as well.’

‘Ferals?’

‘Oh come along, Bernardo, a joke is a joke but we both know if I chose to poach from you I wouldn’t be so clumsy as to let you find out. And if there are ferals around it pays us both to see they are dealt with sooner rather than later.’

Bernardo shifted again and his gaze flickered past Angelus and over the other three. Will saw the strange master study Harold and Lusius intently and then the yellow eyes moved on to him and hesitated for a second, looking slightly doubtful. He straightened his shoulders and looked back as cockily as he could manage. Bernardo sniffed and turned back to Angelus, reaching into his pocket to bring out a cigarette case. He took a cigarette and stuck it between his lips with a casual nonchalance, then offered the open case to Angelus; Angelus took one and the two master vampires bent together over the same match.

‘How is Darla?’ Bernardo asked as they watched the smoke spiral upward towards the glinting stars.

‘Oh, you know women – spends all her time with her dressmaker.’

‘True, but things could be worse: at least the farthingale went out of fashion.’

Angelus laughed, and the watching minions – not one of whom was old enough to have ever seen a farthingale – all sniggered.

‘That your boy Ralph on the roof?’ Angelus said.

Bernardo glanced up. ‘It is. Not such a boy any longer, mind. He’ll be eighteen come the new moon.’

‘Will he?’ Angelus sounded genuinely interested.

‘Aye. Have to look for a gang to take him soon. Someone to knock him into shape – can’t be spoiling him at home for ever.’

‘True enough.’ Angelus eyed the fledgling thoughtfully. ‘So,’ he said, suddenly all business, ‘someone’s been trying to poach from both of us. Ever caught a glimpse?’

‘Never a one, but hunting’s been so damn thin it isn’t natural. Same for you, then?’

Angelus gave a slightly dismissive wave, and didn’t answer the question. ‘My fledgling found them last night.’

‘Did she! Drusilla’s still with you then? Useful girl you have there, Angelus; I’ve always envied you that one…’

‘I’ll be keeping her by me for a long time,’ Angelus said firmly, and Bernardo shrugged.

‘So what do you know?’

‘Feral vampires but using Tethroc – and we know what that means. Killed a few last night, but I’m guessing there are still more of them than you have here now. And they’re organised.’

Bernardo nodded and took a pull on his cigarette, thoughtful but not noticeably concerned. The two masters smoked quietly for a while. ‘You’ll be the first to hear,’ Bernardo said at last.

Angelus dropped his butt and ground it out. ‘I’ll tell my lads: if they see your boy they are to let him pass.’

Bernardo nodded again. ‘Obliged.’ Then he gestured to his minions and strolled off down the street. Angelus turned and began to walk back the way they had come, Will, Harold, and Lusius swaggered behind him. Bernardo had vanished, but Will was aware that five pairs of yellow eyes were watching them still, and five pairs of feet followed them until they were safely back on their own side of the border.

When they were well within their own bounds, Angelus sent Harold and Lusius off for the night and called Will to his side. He seemed cheerful and benevolent after the way the evening had gone. ‘So, my boy, do you know why Bernardo was so willing to talk instead of fight?’

‘Because he knew you would beat him.’

Angelus laughed. ‘I am flattered by your confidence in me, Will, but odds of six to four? Even Bernardo would fancy those favourable. Think about it.’

Will thought. ‘Well maybe he likes having you in the next territory. You are stronger than most: you being here means strays don’t cross over to his domain. And he’s used to you; knows how to get on. Perhaps he thinks an alliance is better than having to cope with a stranger. That’s why he wants to send Ralph to be with us, isn’t it?’

‘Partly, but something else. Something simple.’

Will kicked out at a stone. ‘Is it something to do with the Water Hole? He wants to have more access to it or something.’

‘No.’

‘I wonder how the driving is going.’

‘Do you. Come along, Will – think. Who did he ask about?’

‘Dru.’

‘Yes, but who else?’

‘Why did you let him think Dru found the ferals?’

‘Because you are an arrogant little brat: and if I had told him it was you, you would have been preening yourself in front of everybody; and I didn’t want him to know that one of my supposed big-bad-minions was in fact my idiotic two-year-old fledgling.’

‘I’m nearly three.’

Angelus looked up and down the street. ‘Are we alone?’

‘Yes.’

Angelus immediately clouted him across the back of the head. ‘William, if you wish to actually arrive at your third birthday you might do well to answer my question.’

‘Ouch. I did.’

Angelus clouted him again.

‘Hey!’ Will skipped out of reach.

‘What happened to “I promise to behave, Sire”?’

‘I am. And I don’t know. Because he was too hungry to think straight; because he was an idiot; because he’d got his bloody best waistcoat on and didn’t want to crease it. How am I supposed to know why he didn’t?’

Angelus shook his head in exasperation. ‘I am sometimes tempted to throw you in the river and hope you wash up in Ultima Thule to plague somebody else. Do you really think I would have walked in there if there were the slightest risk of him fighting? Now there was one very simple reason why he wanted to talk first, and you’d better tell me what it is before I lose my temper.’

Will scowled; Angelus seemed to be ignoring him. He stuck his hands deep in his pockets and played with his knife. ‘Because…’

‘Yes?’

‘Because he didn’t know where Darla was?’ Will asked carefully.

‘Clever boy. Never turn up with all your forces in full view, Will: leave them wondering where the reinforcements might be. Even if the reinforcements are actually the other side of town catching supper. If I had taken the whole gang he would have felt threatened enough to fight, with just the four of us he was sufficiently uncertain to stop and ask first.’

‘Do you think Darla has managed to catch supper yet?’

Angelus smiled. ‘Very tactfully put, Will. Want to go and find out?’

‘Yes please, Sire!’

‘Very well then, they will be at the Water Hole by now, I should think. You’ll manage to sniff them out I imagine; but if you can’t find them at least try to spend the rest of the evening constructively. And keep your wits about you: there are ferals about. They won’t tangle with you in public, but if they catch you somewhere quiet they will kill you.’

Will nodded solemnly.

‘And don’t forget to remind Darla that you and Dru are still not to be left alone together.’

He looked sternly at Will, who made a face but mumbled ‘Yes Sire.’

‘I’m sure that you will attempt to forget, so I shall make a point of checking that you did.’ Angelus brought a handful of coins out of his trouser pocket. ‘You can drop in at the wine-merchants and collect my case of brandy while you are out— Don’t you look at me like that. We can hardly give them a delivery address, can we. It’s on account but the night watchman will expect a tip. And pick Darla up another newspaper if you want to keep the peace.’ He doled the money into Will’s out-held hand. ‘Off you go then, behave yourself.

Will pocketed the money, muttered a rapid ‘Thanks Sire’, and tore off.

He hared away until he was safely out of sight and earshot so Angelus couldn’t call him back, then made a quick survey of his newly acquired funds, put two fingers to his lips, and summoned the flashiest looking hansom he could see.

The driver refused to take him all the way, dropping him off near Oxford Street and then trying to overcharge. So Will got his revenge by shouting that he would ‘See you in the police courts, you see if I don’t,’ which made the little old lady who had been about to get in after him veer off, and the fellow drove away with a string of oaths.

Will went down a side street, took a turning, and another, and the respectable crowds of the middle classes might have been as far away as the moon.

A labyrinth of by-ways, alleys, and courts unravelled before him. Swarthy men with hooded eyes lounged against every street corner and watched the passers by. Tripping young sluts hoicked their skirts high and their necklines low to distract from the mess the pox had left in-between. Sudden unexplained shouts and screams drifted on the air; a snatch of singing; a burst of ribald laughter – suddenly cut off short. Two policemen sauntered by, truncheons in full view, and the great-coat pocket of one was weighed down with a heavy bulge that showed they were not quite as much of an unarmed force as the respectable people liked to pretend. The streets were still thronged; shops selling second-hand-clothes and cheap food, all open; bars with lights blazing, as they would be till dawn. To Will’s nostrils, everything stank. But then it probably did to the humans as well.

He passed another demon, rutting with a young girl in a dark corner with nobody giving it a second glance. It sensed Will though, and swung round to glare at him with orange eyes. Will hissed and bared his fangs briefly, then moved on, knowing that the passing humans would have safely covered his scent before the demon had finished. If it should even bother to care about him once he was past. Because this was the festering rookery of Seven Dials, or the Water Hole as it was known to the vampires, and here, where the humans were packed like fish in a shoal, the sharks of the city be-sported themselves as they pleased. The overheated hub of the wheel of London – so Angelus had described it once – with the vampire gangs’ territories radiating out from it like spokes; but no one gang was strong enough to control the Water Hole. They hunted it in turns, and Will had been present when two packs chanced to meet, in vicious brawls or shouting stand-off arguments. Mostly, though, everyone managed to share, while any other demon species was tolerated as long as it did not actually kill the humans. For the vampire masters knew that even here they could not hunt too much or the mob would grow restless, the streets become flooded with police, or worse yet the Slayer be drawn their way. So the Water Hole was hunted as a fox will hunt the teeming warren nearest to his own earth: lightly and only at carefully judged intervals, to keep it as a reserve for hard times.

Will walked round a corner and straight into Darla.

‘What are you doing here?’

Will recovered quickly. ‘Angelus sent me to join you. Madam.’

‘Meaning you have made yourself such a nuisance to him he has pushed you onto me for the rest of the night,’ she said waspishly. Will blinked and let it wash over him, regarding her with a sneer which he knew would annoy her far more than any smart answer. ‘Well just make sure you behave yourself with me,’ she said. ‘I have more important things to do than deal with the blunders of an idiot fledgling. Drusilla is down there;’ she indicated with a languid tilt of her head, ‘go to her and do as she tells you.’

Will immediately turned on his heel and left before she remembered he wasn’t supposed to be with Dru, and if she wanted a polite answer she would either have to call him back or else not get one. There was no call, so she presumably had decided to manage without. He loped down the street to where Dru was standing and grabbed her by the waist. She squeaked and spun up in his grasp. ‘Daddy let you out to play!’

‘He did!’ He nipped her playfully. ‘Who we driving then?’

‘Two naughty girls,’ Dru said, tilting her head to let him come at her neck. ‘They’re made out of toffee – crack with the hammer; and we may suck on all the sweet little pieces we please.’

‘The jolly old Water Hole, eh?’ he said. ‘One great big sweet-shop.’

He gave her a final hard lick and then pushed her away and jumped for the wall of the nearest building, catching a window-sill and hauling himself up in a few swift moves. A girl, leaning out of an upstairs window, leered at him as he swarmed past. ‘Hey, cracksman, gi’ us a tanner an’ I’ll gi’ yer a better kiss than that long moll down there,’ she called, the words spilling out with a stench of gin and rotten teeth.

‘Save it till next time we meet,’ he called back, ‘cos in hell you’ll have the sweetest breath of anybody,’

‘Well sod yer, yer limp-pricked bastard.’ She flailed at him, and he laughed and carried on up as she half toppled out of the window.

With a bit of height he hooked his arm around a down-pipe and hung out from the wall, looking down at the rookery spread below him. After a while he located Ruben, up on another roof; and Amelia, half way down the street. Damon and Darla were out of sight, but they wouldn’t be far away.

Dru suddenly moved, flitting across the street in a shimmer of shadow, and as she did so he saw the prey. Two young prostitutes tottering along the street and already walking closer together than was normal. As Dru moved, one of them turned suddenly to stare at the shadow where Dru had been, her manner edgy.

Will waited a second and then pivoted on his hold, swinging out and then jumping silently onto a low outbuilding. He ducked out of sight at once, but he knew the girls would have started again at the half-seen presence moving on the edge of their vision. Dru materialised at his shoulder. ‘Grandmother is very cross today, we couldn’t find any yummy morsels to drive, not for ever such a long time.’

‘That’s because—’

‘Hush. Naughty William. Mustn’t talk to me alone. Mustn’t chit chat while hunting. Got to drive these pretty cherries all the way to the playground.’

‘Where are we driving them?’

‘Shshh!’ She put her finger to her lip. ‘You must spook them.’ She made a pantomime of staring down below her, as if following something with her eyes, and then she abruptly jumped off the end of the outbuilding. Will sighed then worked his way around and quickly got back up on another roof until he could see the girls again. He stared at them, shadowing along behind. The girls shivered and they kept looking over their shoulders, their sixth sense screaming at them that something was watching – but they never thought to look up. They were walking faster now.

Will jumped across to the next house. Damon was already up there and he nodded briefly to Will before re-locking his own gaze on the prey. The girls wavered and headed towards a small bar, but Amelia was ahead of them, lounging in the doorway, and she stared at the two and shouted some obscenity so they veered off and hurried onwards.

‘Where we heading?’ Will asked Damon quietly.

‘Purbrook Court,’ Damon said without looking round. There was a low rumbling growl, inaudible to human ears: Darla, communicating with them, and in obedience to it Ruben leapt across the width of an alley from one house to the next, and the girls instantly shied off in the other direction again.

‘Do me a favour, Spike,’ Damon said. ‘Block that side-road, I’m covering six things at once.’

‘Right you are.’ Will backed off and returned to the ground, going and positioning himself in a dark corner. He was trying to remember where Purbrook Court was. It would be some isolated spot that the girls could safely be snatched from, but he couldn’t bring it to mind, and he wished he had been present when they were planning the drive, so as to be sure to be in at the kill. It would be some way off still, with other places in reserve for if they couldn’t drive the girls exactly as they wanted. The girls had to be got well away from the crowds, scared along at just the right speed; the vampires never letting them pause to have time to think rationally. The pace gradually building until the prey would be running in terror. The pack chasing at roof level and along the ground, Darla letting slip her carefully placed relays in turn, on every side and behind, pushing them faster and faster. Closing in. And then…

Will licked his lips. The girls were still some way off though, and he started to let his mind wander back to Bernardo, and just who the ferals might be. He pulled himself together with an angry jolt. Concentrate! He had made a mess yesterday because he couldn’t keep his mind on the job: tonight was going to be different.

The girls went by, safely on the far side of the street, never even glancing in his direction.

Darla appeared beside him. ‘I thought I told you to stay with Drusilla?’

‘I—’

‘Come with me, and stay close.’ She led him down an alley, across a squalid court, criss-crossed with washing lines, and along another narrow street. ‘When I get you home,’ Darla was saying, ‘I am going to see to it that your sire gives you the biggest flogging of your miserable existence.’ Which would be setting Angelus quite a challenge. Will glared daggers at her back. ‘And if he doesn’t, I shall do it myself.’

‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘What have I done?’

‘What have you done!’ She rounded on him. ‘You— Stop distracting me and be quiet. Stand there.’ She pointed at a dark corner and then vanished up the street. Will slumped against the wall and tried to remember just when things had gone so sour between him and Darla. There had been a time, in the early days, when she had almost seemed pleased to have him around. She had never been what he would call pleasant, but she had at least been happy to leave him alone, and appeared to approve of him as some sort of playfellow-cum-nursemaid for Dru. He wondered if she would carry through her threat and persuade Angelus to punish him. She usually didn’t, but he could never entirely count on it. And if she decided to do it herself… he shook his shoulders with a shudder: Angelus was no picnic but Darla’s punishments were always unbearably painful, and usually meant he couldn’t walk properly for days afterwards.

A couple came down the street, lurching drunkenly, and Will stiffened into alertness and slunk further into the shadows. The two stopped and the man pulled the girl up against a doorpost. ‘Ooooh! She squealed. ‘Ohhh, mister!’ Will could see the man’s hand running up and down her back. He looked frantically around behind him and up the walls, but the brickwork was vertical, featureless, impossible to climb, and without a run up he didn’t have a chance of jumping.

Keep calm, he told himself, keep calm and still, and don’t change, and he won’t notice you.

‘Oh!’ the girl yelled, and then she started to struggle wildly as the feral vampire bit down upon her throat. The feral was looking down, concentrating on the struggling girl, but he was directly opposite Will, separated by nothing more than a few yards of filthy cobbles. He had only to raise his eyes a fraction and he would be looking straight at Will. Will did not move a muscle, praying that the stench of the slum was enough to cover his light fledgling scent. The other vampire smelt rank, older than Will by many years, and he was a big brute, rippling with muscle under his ragged corduroy suit. His clothes and hair were encrusted with dirt, his fangs stained yellow with old blood. He snarled and growled as he fed, jabbing a hand up the girl’s skirts at the same time. Any second now he would finish.

Will watched.

There was a high whistle – Darla’s signal for everyone to move on – and the feral snarled and swung his head round, staring up the street to where the sound had come from. Blood trickled in a little rivulet down his chin. Will knew he had perhaps half a second whilst the feral was looking away. He ran out, took four bounding steps, and jumped, the highest he’d ever attempted but desperation came to his aid and he sailed right over the feral’s head, just catching the sill of a window and scrambling up onto it. He turned around and flattened himself back against the glass, looking back down into the street. He was trapped, no possible escape route anywhere within reach, with the feral snarling down below, casting about trying to find a way to get at him. But the feral couldn’t jump for the sill while he was on it – for the moment he was safe.

There was only one thing to do.

‘Darla!’ he bellowed with the full force of his lungs. ‘Feral!’ His voice cracking on the second word. Then there was nothing for it but to stay put and wait.

The feral was still growling and prowling up and down, looking up at him. ‘You are dust when I catch you, fledgling,’ he suddenly shouted. ‘This is our ground.’

Will frowned, he did not like the sound of that ‘our’.

The feral suddenly turned away and made for a building a little further down the street, on the opposite side, obviously having made some plan to reach Will. But the second the feral’s back was turned an arm appeared in front of Will from the roof above. ‘Quick.’

He grabbed on and was hauled up, and in half a second he was out of sight behind a chimney. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No Madam.’

‘Good.’ Darla was clearly thinking frantically, and cast an anxious glance back at the other street where their two prey were still just in sight. ‘I am not losing them after all this,’ she spat. Then she looked cautiously at Will. ‘William, have you ever killed another vampire?’

‘No, Madam, but Angelus has shown me how to.’

‘I need you to do exactly as I say, Will.’ She sounded very uncertain but she was reaching into her pocket and she produced a revolver and a small stake. ‘In a moment, when he breaks the roof-line to jump across, I am going to shoot him, which will knock him off the roof into the court behind. And you have got to get down there fast enough to stake him before he gets back up. Can you do that? I can’t go or we will lose these girls. Can you do it, Will?’

‘Yes Madam.’

‘Are you sure?’

He took the stake from her. ‘Yes Madam.’

‘Very well – ready?’ He nodded and she stood up and fired the revolver. ‘Go.’

Will heard a scream as he leapt to his feet and slid down the roof, jumped to the street, rolled, picked himself up, and was across through the archway into the court beyond it before the echo had even faded. In the corner was a black bundle, sprawled on the hard cobbles. All around him the rookery had fallen unnaturally silent, except that he could hear the sound of feet running towards him. Even in Seven Dials a gun shot attracted attention. He slipped over to the bundle and the feral snarled up at him, its hands held over its eyes. It writhed but didn’t get up, and he realised its backbone must be broken. He took the stake in both hands and held it over the creature’s heart; and then he paused.

‘Do it!’ the feral hissed at him, pink stained foam flecking up from his throat as he spoke. ‘Do it and they will avenge my blood.’

Will slowly lowered the stake. He could hear police-rattles and shouts from the street, but they still hadn’t come into the court. Not quite yet. He sat back on his heels and lifted his head. In front of him there was a half-rotten, lopsided door, and as he looked it opened a crack, and from a pale face there stared down at him two wary, black eyes.

‘Help me,’ Will said miserably. ‘He’s been shot an’ I don’t know what to do.’

There was a moment’s hesitation. ‘Bring him in.’

There were twelve curious faces staring up at him from around a long deal table. Men and women of various ages, seated on wooden forms, and to judge from the scatter of bread and cheese he had just interrupted their diners. Will shifted the feral, who was cradled in his arms and mercifully seemed to have fainted in human form, and said again pathetically, ‘Someone shot him.’

‘Quick, Fanny, fetch a stool,’ the woman who had let them in said. ‘Here you are lovey, set him down gentle like.’

There was a banging sound from outside, not their door yet, but the police had definitely arrived in the court and were knocking on doors; and from the cries of outrage from the other houses they were less punctilious than a vampire was about asking for an invitation. The inhabitants of the room exchanged glances.

‘We’ll not be having this – out the back way,’ said the woman, who was clearly in charge in some way.

‘What about him, Lizzy?’ Fanny asked, pointing at the feral.

‘Get a plank,’ Lizzy said. ‘Come on Bert, show a leg.’

A broad plank was produced from somewhere and the inert feral vampire was lifted by gentle hands and secured safely with several turns of a length of stout washing-line. Then the man called Bert grabbed the head end while Will picked up the foot, and they staggered after Lizzy who had strode off down a dank passageway. She threw back a tatty piece of sacking to reveal a hole knocked through the wall. ‘Through here.’ And she stepped in. Bert headed straight after but jerked to a halt. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Plank’s stuck or somethin’. Can’t seem to shift it,’ Bert grumbled, and he twisted it from side to side, swearing through his teeth.

Will peered past the perplexed man and saw a thin girl huddled in the far corner of the room they were trying to enter. ‘Pardon us, love,’ Will called quietly. ‘Yer doesn’t mind if we comes in, does yer?’

‘Cor! He’s a polite one!’ Lizzy said, but the girl smiled thinly.

‘Come on in, handsome,’

‘That’s done it!’ Bert exclaimed, and they surged through. ‘Sorry ’bout that, Lizzy; must have got caught on somethin’. Couldn’t see in the dark.’

Lizzy went on through to the next room, where a ragged family were peeping up at them from their shared bed.

‘Come on through, why don’t yer,’ the mother said sarcastically as Lizzy elbowed past, and Bert and Will followed with the plank, then along another corridor and up several flights of stairs. They rested the plank on the floor while Lizzy opened a small wooden door at the top, and Will felt a blast of cold air.

‘Old warehouse,’ she explained, ‘this were for haulin’ stuff in off of carts or somethin’. Go along there.’ She pointed and Will saw a narrow walkway made from a beam of wood, crossing high above the street. Bert and he exchanged glances.

‘I’ll go first,’ Will said quickly, and he moved to the head of the plank. Bert was still looking doubtful and didn’t move to pick up the back end.

‘Oh yer big ninny!’ Lizzy cried at last and she elbowed him aside and took his place. ‘Come on, lovey, let’s give those bobbies a run for their money.’

Will grinned and edged his way out onto the thin wooden beam. He felt it bounce and sag under his steps, and then a thud thrummed through it as Lizzy placed her first foot down. He glanced up at her and saw her face set and white, eyes fixed resolutely past him on the building across the street.

‘Yer doin’ fine, love,’ he murmured, taking a careful step back. She smiled faintly and took another step, then another. The plank started to sway in their grip as the wind funnelling down the street caught it, and Will used his full strength and vampire balance to steady it; he kept moving, convinced that if they stopped for a second Lizzy would lose her nerve. ‘That’s it Lizzy, easy as podding peas.’

She gasped out a laugh. ‘Look at me, fine sight I must be from down below. Think anyone’s lookin’ up me petticoats?’

Will pretended to look down. ‘That there is, love, boldest young corner-man yer ever did see, and ain’t he got a smile on his face.’

‘Lor, an’ me without me Sunday drawers on, an’ all!’

He grinned at her, and they had covered another two yards.

‘Lor, he weren’t this heavy when we first picked him up, were he?’ Lizzy said after a second. She was stout enough, but she could hardly be used to such work. A full pint pot to her lips was probably the heaviest thing she was accustomed to lifting.

‘P’raps a pigeon just crapped on him,’ Will suggested, and the smile got them a few feet further, but it was more forced that time, and Lizzy’s face was beginning to turn purple. As they got nearer the middle the beam was beginning to bow under their weight.

‘What’s yer name, lovey?’ she said quietly

‘Call me Bill, pet.’

‘Bill, I’m not sure I’m goin’ to make this, lovey.’

‘Course yer are. Come on now, love. We’re over half way now. Further to go back than to go on.’

‘Are yer sure?’

‘That I am, love.’ It was a lie but Lizzy was too scared to look behind herself to see. Will peered past her shoulder. Bert had left, but he must have shut the door after them because it was closed again, and since there was no way that Lizzy could manage to take a hand off the plank to open it, going back was no longer an option anyway. Will, who was having to walk backwards and kept turning to check where he was going, glanced round again. As he did so he could feel the plank begin to shake to a new quaking, and he realised it must be Lizzy shaking with fear. He smiled at her. But reassurance or no, any moment now she was going to tip them over.

‘So this how yer normally spend yer evenings, is it?’ he called quickly.

She snorted. ‘There’s gratitude for yer.’

‘Well yer did seem to know the way out in a brace o’ shakes, I’m thinkin’ yer butters up all the boys this way.’

‘Yer’s a swank cove, Bill.’

‘That I am, Lizzy, love. An’ yer just got three-quarters of the way across.’

‘Did I? Oh Lor, I did an’ all.’

‘That yer did. O’course, we can check it with a yard-rule if yer wants to make certain.’ He winked. ‘Or will yer be willin’ to take me word for it?’

‘I’m willin’,’ she managed to gasp out.

‘Is yer!’ he said with a leer, ‘An’ here’s me thinkin’ I was with a right lady!’

‘Oy, yer cheeky bugger, Bill. I’ve a good mind to let yer mate here drop!’

‘Yer could, but it would be a right waste, seeing as any second now… I’ll be setting me foot… on the other side…’ Will said, and he felt his heel grate against the parapet of the other roof. He smiled at her and carefully stepped onto the slates, then quick as he could manage hauled the plank in and pulled her with it. She collapsed against his arms with a little sob. ‘Yer know what, love, I think yer might want to go downstairs an’ walk along the street to get home,’ he said softly, lowering her to sit down. ‘What now?’

‘Lovey, I think I’m goin’ to have to turn it up for a bit. Can yer manage on yer own?’

Will was hauling the beam in so there was no risk of them being followed. ‘Course I will love.’ He looked down at the feral, still safely unconscious, and swiftly untied the cord, freeing him from the plank. He took a length of twine out of his own pocket and, shielding what he was doing with his body, retied the feral’s hands. Then he stooped and planted a kiss on Lizzy’s plump cheek. ‘Thanks, sweetheart. Yer a treasure.’

‘Oh get along with yer.’

Will smiled and slung the feral over his shoulder, then vanished into the night.

Will was never quite sure how he got home. A great deal of effort was involved, obviously, but since what he was trying to achieve was so patently impossible he rather thought something else must have helped along the way. Possibly sheer bloody stupidity.

He had to keep hidden from humans, since even the densest would be interested as to what he was carrying and why. And he most certainly had to keep hidden from demons, even more certainly any other ferals. And that meant not just keeping out of sight, but not making a sound or a scent either. Exactly how did one avoid giving off a scent? Theoretically it was all to do with staying calm, not letting his demon form rise to the surface, and making use of the natural cover the surrounding humans provided. Except that he was avoiding the humans as well. And it wasn’t so easy to stay calm when carrying a violent, partially disabled, but still strong enemy, who woke up and tried to claw your eyes out every few minutes so you had to stop and punch him until he fell unconscious again. Then there were the small matters that the feral weighed a ton, stank to high heaven in his own right, and didn’t actually seem to come with convenient wheels or a carrying handle.

It was impossible. He got along for a bit by hoping that one of the others would turn up to help. It wasn’t an unreasonable wish was it? They couldn’t be far off: only a few streets at most. And then, when he began to accept that they weren’t, he started to wonder if Angelus might be far away. His sire always seemed to appear at inopportune moments when Will was involved in some piece of mischief – well now was the time for the reverse of that coin. Angelus could turn up now, please. He would be just around the next corner… Very well, the next corner.

Please?

Carrying the feral all the way home was out of the question. But he didn’t have the money for a cab, so he carried him some of the way. And then he still didn’t have the money so he carried him a bit further. Then a bit further still. He went slowly – well not much choice about that –; he checked he wasn’t being observed; he went by an indirect, quiet route; he approached the lair cautiously. He double-checked he had not been followed, and then he checked once more, and once more after that.

When he pushed the front door open at last and dumped the feral in the hall, Dru stuck her head round from the drawing-room. ‘It is only William,’ she called back into the room.

‘And just where has he been all this time? And what is that stink?’ Darla appeared and looked at the feral in shock. ‘What on earth have you done, you stupid boy? I told you to stake it!’

‘No,’ Will said simply. ‘Angelus will want to talk to him.’

‘You idiot. You absolute imbecile of an arrogant, self-absorbed, stupid little fledgling, what have you done? You brought this thing back to our lair. Our lair, boy!’ she shrieked.

‘I was careful,’ he said. ‘And this isn’t an ordinary stray. He didn’t run away although he knew there was a gang nearby. And he said, “our”, he said, “they will avenge my blood”. Angelus will want to talk to him.’

Darla stared at him in astonishment, a half sneer still on her lips. ‘You are going to—’

‘Yes, yes: I’m going to get the worst flogging of my life, Angelus is going to beat me into a bloody pulp and you’re going to stand by and laugh. Whatever you say, Madam. But Angelus is still going to want to talk to him.’

‘Very well,’ Darla said icily. ‘If you are so confidant you are right you may take it down to the larder and chain it up. Then you can come and wait for your sire to get home.’

The larder was full for once: the two girls tightly bound and gagged, slumped in a heap on the stone floor; Will eyed them for a bit, but there would be no feeding until the master of the household returned. Damon helped Will chain the feral up in the scullery instead.

‘So this is what’s been pinching all our kills then, Spike?’ Damon asked.

‘One of them, yes. But there are others as well.’

‘The Master will have something to say to him, I’m thinking!’

‘Yes.’ Will paused. ‘Damon, Darla wanted me to stake him in the street, you don’t know why, do you?’

‘Stake him? Well it would have been safer, I suppose. The Mistress gets all of a twitter if she thinks anything of hers is threatened. The lair included.’

‘But Angelus will want to talk to him,’ Will said.

‘Yes. I suppose.’

‘Yes.’ Will looked at the feral, dangling from the chains, and a little knot of doubt tied itself in his stomach. ‘Course he’ll want to talk to him. Why wouldn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes.’ Will sucked on his fang. He somehow didn’t feel like going and waiting in the drawing-room with Darla sneering at him. ‘You fancy a game?’

Damon shrugged, but he went and got a pack of cards. They sat at the kitchen table, and Will chewed the inside of his lip while Damon shuffled and dealt. He realised he was feeling rather tired – it had been a long night one way and another. And he had as usual been working since the moment he got up, to get all the things Angelus loaded onto him done; but Angelus would want him again when he came home, so he couldn’t go to bed. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long.

‘Where’s everyone else?’

‘Black Dog.’

‘Oh.’ Will remembered that he had rather wanted to go to the prize-fight at the Black Dog, but it suddenly didn’t seem important anymore. ‘Even Murphy? Angelus isn’t going to be happy about that. He was supposed to be on guard.’

‘Murphy is a fool.’

Will raised an eyebrow in agreement.

‘Have you got anything to drink?’ Damon asked; Will shook his head. Damon tilted his chair back and gazed at the ceiling. ‘I am so bloody hungry.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘Give over! You took the kill last night, and the Master gave you some more afterwards, I saw him carrying it up.’

‘Oh yeh, life of bleeding luxury, I lead.’

Damon looked at him condescendingly. ‘You don’t know you’re born, Spike.’

Will stuck his chin out. ‘That’s Master Spike to you.’

‘Yes, yes. We all know you’re your sire’s sweet little blue-eyed princeling.’

He jumped to his feet. ‘Shut your bloody mouth!’

Damon blinked and looked up at him. ‘You’ll find out, he said calmly. ‘You’re – what – two, three? Another dozen or so years you’ve got being molly-coddled, lording it around at home, and then bang!’ He slammed his palm on the table. ‘It’s “out the door and make your own way in the world, boy. And don’t piss about near my territory or I’ll rip your head off myself.” ’ He snarled and looked away.

Will stood and watched him with a frown. Minions came and went: it was a fact of life. And a fair few of them he had seen die at Angelus’s own hands. It had never occurred to him to wonder what their feelings on the matter might be.

‘I thought you had always been a minion.’

‘Yes of course you did. And the stork just dropped me under Angelus’s gooseberry bushes, I expect. Well let me tell you: six months ago I was standing exactly where you are now. The happy little fledge who thought the world revolved around his sire’s dick. Then one night he calls me to him and says “You’re all grown up now, Dammy, it is time you experienced a bit more of the world, so guess where I’m sending you…” well I’ve found out about the world, sure enough.’

‘But… can’t you ever go home?’

‘I’m bound to Angelus for five years, after that— I don’t know yet. Maybe if I do well my sire will take me again.’ Damon laughed bitterly. ‘It’s all a bit academic, isn’t it. Do you think anyone has ever survived five years as minion to the Scourge of Europe?’

Will stared at him. ‘Why do you stay then?’

‘What’s my alternative? If I go home my sire will just send me back. Or stake me himself, for disgracing the bloodline. Anywhere else: well, it’s either try to find another master or live like that bugger hanging up in there. What would you do? What will you do, when it’s your turn?’

Will tilted his head thoughtfully for a bit, then he went over to a cupboard and fished out a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers; he set them on the table.

‘That’s reserved for the Master,’ Damon pointed out.

‘So I’ll take the beating,’ Will said. ‘I’m probably due one anyway.’

Damon shrugged and downed his drink in one.

‘Bloody hell,’ Will suddenly said, ‘I was supposed to get Angelus’s brandy.’

‘Looks as if you definitely are due a beating then,’ Damon said, helping himself to another large one. ‘So you might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.’

Will considered this and then shrugged and downed his own glass. ‘What’s your sire like, then?’

‘Not the bloody Scourge of Europe, that’s for certain sure. He’s just a vampire, I suppose. The territory’s up in Lincolnshire.’

‘Never been to Lincolnshire’

‘Sensible of you. It’s bloody cold and flat as a pancake.’

‘Good hunting?’

‘Rotten hunting. I’ll say this for Angelus: I’ve learnt a lot since I’ve been here. Caught more in six months than we do in a year back home.’

‘So you don’t miss it too much then?’

‘Sometimes it hurts so much it feels like someone ripped my arm off. But other times: things aren’t so bad. Sometimes I can go, oh, five or six minutes without feeling homesick.’

Will toyed with his glass and then swiftly finished it. ‘Your sire wouldn’t stake you if you went home. They’re not allowed to do that.’

‘You believe that if it makes you happy, Spike. Me: I saw my eldest brother killed by my sire when I was three months old, because he’d put the gang at risk by hunting the wrong humans once too often.’

Will digested this. ‘Angelus wouldn’t stake me,’ he said with certainty.

Damon seemed about to argue and then paused. ‘Maybe not. He’s… different, from what I can see. Possessive. I thought all vampires were the same until I came here, but I’ve seen different since. Things aren’t so on edge all the time here. My sire would have been having forty fits with ferals about; the Master is concerned, but he seems to take it in his stride. It’s as if he knows he’s got more rope to play with – can take his time. He’s powerful enough to do that. That makes a big difference. And he certainly treats you nothing like my sire treated me.’

Will was all ears. ‘How different?’

‘Well he beats you for a start. My sire never laid a finger on me.’

‘You’re joking!’

‘Not a bit of it. Used to be hungry quite often, though that was hardly his fault most of the time, shouted at me sometimes; but he never hit me. No, wait, I tell a lie, he threw me across the room once when we were arguing about a kill, but that was it.’

Will blinked. ‘How did he train you then?’

‘Ah, well that’s the thing, see: he didn’t. Not like Angelus teaches you. He just let me tag along and I had to pick everything up as best I could. He never really sat down and explained anything. The fact is…’ He hummed and hawed for a bit, as if making his mind up as to whether or not to say something. ‘The fact is, Spike, you’re better at most things at two than I was at ten.’

‘I’m nearly three.’ Will said automatically.

Damon started. ‘Oh, yes, you are, aren’t you.’

Will stared into space. He was thinking about the long, painful lessons, as Angelus – quite literally – drummed something into him time and time again, until he got it perfect. And he tried to imagine how life could ever be any different. ‘You’ve never been beaten?’ he asked again, still unable to picture such a thing.

‘You know perfectly well that I have.’ Damon was watching him. ‘The first time Harold called me up I thought he was only joking. Then three of them had to hold me down while he did it. And the Master found out of course, so then I had to face him. My first week here I got flogged four times. You were probably too busy to notice.’ Will shifted uncomfortably. ‘Oh never mind me, after the fourth one I made a pact with myself: Angelus wasn’t going to get to me, whatever he did. And if the others can stand it then why shouldn’t I?’

Will didn’t know what to say.

‘I’ve got a theory,’ Damon was saying, ‘I’ve been thinking about it and this is my theory – you want to hear it?’

Will nodded.

‘Theory is: vampires live for ever; so why do they breed – sire childer, or what have you? Just means another mouth to feed, maybe even competition in time, stands against reason when you think about it. An’ we’re demons, its not as if we’re all greensick with love like humans are. But… England’s the most important place in the whole bloody world, isn’t it, so every bloody vampire is going to want to live here. Plenty of food, soft living, modern comforts and all that, it’s as decent a life as a vampire can have. Even my gaffer’s place, it may be a fish-smelling dump, but at least its not France or somewhere.’ He paused as if waiting for confirmation, but Will was pouring them both another drink. ‘So every vampire wants a piece of the best cake, stands to reason. Only they can’t all have it, not enough food to go round. Just attract human attention otherwise. So the vampires that are already here, well, we’ve got to fight to keep the others out. Others like that bastard in there. And however much of a loner you are the best chance you’ve got of doing that is with a gang. Anyone tries to set up on his own the first gang that comes along is going to wipe his eye. You see my point?’

Will waved some sort of acknowledgement to all this, although it all seemed perfectly obvious to him, he’d just never bothered to put it into words.

Damon continued. ‘Now some of us get killed along the way. But the ones that get killed, well mostly they’re the daft ones: the clumsy silly beggars who can’t hunt discreetly or fight properly. And only the best live for long. But how did they get to be the best? Because their sires taught them, that’s how. And only the old clever ones know how to train their fledglings well in the first place. While the better the childer are trained the more likely the sire is to keep the territory, everyone’s more secure, can feed better, fight better, live longer, sire more childer, enlarge the territory even more… Know what that is? That’s—’

‘Natural Selection,’ Will put in.

‘Oh. You’ve read that bugger Darwin then?’

‘Yes.’ Will frowned and thought about it. ‘That’s true actually. It is Natural Selection.’

‘Course it’s bloody true. Stands to reason. And you: you got lucky, got sired into one of the best families going, got a head start on the rest of us. Me: not so lucky. Only way I can have a bite of this cake is as a minion. I’m going to make the most of it, mind, not like that idiot Murphy. I’m going to keep my nose clean, not get myself staked, and learn everything I can. Then one day I’ll go back home and start turning our family into one of the best and most powerful in England.’ Damon knocked back another tumbler of whiskey and set the glass on the table with a bang. ‘Going to rule bloody East Anglia, I am.’

‘Make sure you eat all the dons in Cambridge,’ Will said perfunctorily. ‘So if it’s Natural Selection then why are you here? You’re not part of our bloodline: why should Angelus share his food with you, why not just his own childer?’

Damon looked at him slightly oddly, then abruptly jabbed a finger at Will’s chest. ‘Simple: because of you. You’re young, right. Bloody nuisance most of the time – no insult intended, Master Spike and all that, but you are. All fledglings are. And you just eat without being any use defending the territory or hunting. So where’s Angelus going to get help from? He can’t do everything by himself: can’t cover the ground to guard it for a start, can’t drive properly without a big enough gang, can’t do anything. And siring childer’s no use: just means more bloody useless fledglings around. So he needs minions. Like me – old enough to hunt and fight but not strong enough to be a threat to him. He keeps us for a few years and then merrily sends us on our way. Gets some new ones. Which gives Angelus the time he needs to get you trained up to actually be of some use to him; trained to even his perfectionist-heart’s desire. Meanwhile, my sire isn’t going to poach from Angelus while I’m here, is he, and with luck he gets me back in a few years better trained than he could have ever done himself. Everyone wins.’ He tilted his chair back again and looked at Will from under half closed eyes.

‘Except for you and me, who just have to put up with it because we’re the ones it’s actually happening to.’

‘True. Anyway, that’s my theory.’

‘So where will Angelus send me to get me better trained than I could be here?’ Will asked.

‘That I do not know. Some decrepit old bat with a few hundred more years under his belt than Angelus has, I suppose. Dracula or someone.’

‘Who’s Dracula?’

‘Old master – in Europe somewhere. Got a fancy reputation.’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘Ask Angelus, if you can catch him in a good mood. Maybe he’ll tell you.’

‘Maybe.’ Will looked at the half-empty whiskey bottle, and the non-existent brandy bottles that should have been alongside it, and thought that catching Angelus in a good mood was probably going to have to be postponed for a while. He yawned. ‘Where is Angelus?’ he said. ‘It’s getting light out.’