Wild Demonic Fauna – Part IV

Between the bottom of various pockets and another raid on Angelus’s study, Will raised the twopence each needed for their fares, with a spare half crown for emergencies. He thought there probably would be emergencies. Then since it was cloudy Will decided they might as well indulge themselves by sitting up top on the knife-board. It wasn’t as if they often got the chance to in daylight. Dru claimed the seat right up front, next to the driver, and from what Will could hear she was entertaining him with stories about various gruesome crimes that had occurred over the years at all the places they passed. He sat further towards the back, with the others, and quietly detailed to Ruben and Amelia what had happened.

‘You got him to talk, Spike?’ Amelia said, when Will was finished, and she looked at him with a new respect.

‘Yeh, he’d better have told the truth, an’ all, cos we can’t ask again.’ He looked at his watch. Assuming they weren’t held up any more then they would just make it on time.

Assuming they weren’t held up.

Will sat in silence and an increasing feeling of unease grew over him. Where was Murphy? Where were Harold and Lusius? Where, for that matter, was Darla?

He leant back against the sharply uncomfortable wooden bench while the bus swayed and jolted along, apparently seeking out every little inconsistency in the road, and they seemed to stop every few yards to pick up or let off passengers.

What if he couldn’t find Angelus after all? In the face of that idea he decided to concentrate on something else. But something about the telegram kept nagging at his mind, something more than the original interpretation he had made of that enigmatic message, and he started to wish he had brought it with him so he could read it over once more. Five thirty: he was certain of that though, and then all he could think about again was how critical it was that they be on time.

Marble Arch was jammed solid with traffic. On reflection, Will thought, as he gazed up at the smudgy sky, it was hardly to be expected that anything else should have happened. Can I please, just once, have a piece of good luck? He asked the unheeding gods.

‘Sod this. Let’s walk.’

He retrieved Dru from the driver. ‘She’s got a way with words, your sister,’ the man said as he gave her a hand. ‘Better than the Illustrated News.’

‘Er, yeh. She likes the police reports. Come on, Dru.’ He jumped down to the street and held his arms out for Dru, who launched herself after him with a happy smile. Then he allowed her to thank both of the horses personally, which made them skitter and roll their eyes back, before they worked their way round to the back and waited for the others to descend by the narrow curving steps.

‘Given up on us, have you?’ the conductor said cheerfully. ‘Can’t say as I blame you. Besides, it’s goin’ to snow soon. You’ll be much better off walking than on a nice bus.’ He winked.

Snow? Will stared up again at the soot-and-cream coloured sky. Was that what it meant?

With everyone gathered, he led them off, threading through the traffic at a loping run. As they jogged along Baker Street, Will was struck by the thought that it was almost over: in a few minutes he would either be on time or too late. But if they managed to pull it off then the youngest of Angelus’s childer and the most junior of his minions would have succeeded where everyone else had let him down. He streaked out through the traffic to cross Park Road, with a broad grin on his face. ‘Relying on you.’ It hadn’t been directed at him, but Will had decided to take it to heart. They had reached the drive called the Outer Circle, which ringed the inside edge of the park, and the going was faster with no traffic to impede their way. Not long now.

‘Oh, fuck.’

It took Will a while to realise it was Damon who had spoken. ‘Er… what?’ he said, with a sinking feeling of inevitability.

‘Look over there.’

Will almost laughed out loud. Late afternoon in Regent’s Park: lively with the respectable crowds of warmly clad strollers, the more sensible ones heading for shelter as they took account of the weather, children romping about carelessly; whilst through their midst ran two gangs of vicious killers, converging on the same spot.

No one slowed, but across on the inner path, parallel to the Outer Circle, Bernardo turned his head as he ran, and stared at Will. Will stared back.

It was the footbridge across the boating lake that finally forced them to accept each other’s presence. Both gangs put on a spurt as they neared it; as if whichever could get there first must inexorably claim the submission of the other. But in the event the way was secured by a Horatio of a nurse wheeling a perambulator, with a column of four small children marching with military precision two by two behind her, and the nursery-maid bringing up the rear. She frowned at the racing vampires and flourished her starched bosom with an expression that would have quelled armies, and which stated quite clearly that no riffraff should presume to set foot on the bridge until she and her little darlings had passed.

She advanced like a stately galleon, unstoppable but ever so slow, and the vampires tumbled about, almost pushed into her, and then realised that they were all mixed in together and the two gangs were either going to have to fight right in front of a human, or else wait. They shuffled backwards in an awkward mill, to hold fire at the end of the bridge until she was safely out of sight. By unspoken agreement they fell in on each side of the path: Angelus’s five on one side, the ten or so of Bernardo’s facing them across the way. As the first clotted flakes of snow began to fall from the overloaded sky, Will found himself standing opposite a master vampire.

‘You appear to be trespassing.’

Will’s immediate thought was: if I get this wrong Angelus will wallop me until Doomsday. For some reason the thought that he might be able to was rather comforting. ‘Er…’ He looked uncertainly around. ‘Am I? Surely not.’

There was a small sound from Damon, and out of the corner of his eye Will saw the minion shaking his head with a God-give-me-patience air.

‘Doesn’t the boundary run across the middle of the lake?’

‘No,’ Bernardo said, ‘it runs along that fence-line there, skirts that clump of rose-bushes, and then crosses at the edge of the bridge. As was agreed between Angelus and myself nine months ago.’

Will looked at the relevant landmarks. ‘Are you sure of that? I’m positive the line goes from the tearooms, down past the deck-chair place, and across the other bridge. Just beyond that duck.’

Bernardo looked exasperated and then a flicker of a frown crossed his face, quickly suppressed. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.

Will stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stood up a little straighter. ‘We met last night.’

‘I am aware of that. I asked—’

‘Look, I’m in a hurry, mate. So why don’t you clear off back to your own ground, and we’ll both be on our merry way.’

Around him Will heard the collective sound of fourteen vampire jaws dropping. Bernardo, though, laughed. ‘You can only be one of Angelus’s childer. Nobody but a full-blood Aurelian would be that rude. So what are you doing out here, hunting two couple by yourself?’

‘Relays,’ Will snapped. And he abruptly stood up on his toes and peered into the distance, as if keeping an eye on some driven game a way off.

Bernardo’s eyes narrowed and he briefly swung round to follow Will’s gaze, then turned back. ‘Maybe. Or maybe you’re really out here on your own. What happens if I put a stake through your heart? Does Angelus jump out of the rhododendrons to avenge you, or do I just get a rather small pile of dust?’

‘Well, this gentleman might be a bit surprised,’ Will said, indicating a stout chap with Prussian whiskers who was just hurrying over the bridge from the other direction. But as he said it he realised that Whiskers was the last. The nursemaid was now out of sight, and the rest of the park seemed to have emptied like water from a sieve as the weather settled into proper snow. Whiskers gave them a curious look as he hurried past, and then he was gone, heading towards warmth and shelter. In the cold landscape the cold-blooded demons were the only ones that remained. Will brushed the thick flakes off his eye-lashes, since they wouldn’t melt for him, and looked at the range of his enemies.

‘Where’s Ralph?’ he asked suddenly.

The Bernardo gang gave a collective hiss. ‘Out of my way, boy,’ Bernardo himself snapped. ‘You have five minutes to be out of my sight back where you belong, or I will stake you.’ He started towards the bridge.

‘No – wait!’

Everyone looked at Will again.

‘I… er, well actually, the fact is, you see… we need your help. And,’ he cocked his head and considered the master vampire, ‘I rather fancy you need mine.’

Through the veil of snow came the long, umbrageous howl of a wolf. A sound that contained in its note all the wild longings of a creature caged for the amusement of man, that still yet in its dreams knew the feel of long grass under swift passing foot, and the riffle of the north wind through its fur. As the wolf lifted its head to repeat its melancholy threnody a beast far wilder than he slipped down the path beside Regent’s Park Zoo, and approached the ticket office.

Will couldn’t smell any demons, but then it was hardly surprising amidst the reek of lions, bears – elephants, for Christ’s sake. Satan himself, he thought, fresh from the sulphurous fires of hell and not yet found the time for his Saturday bath, could have been walking through the middle of the Zoo and no one would have noticed. That, presumably, was the point. It was clever, but they hadn’t allowed for one thing: what was sauce for the goose was just as much sauce for the gander – or, in this case, for a light-scented vampire fledgling of the line of Aurelius.

Will paid a shilling each for two tickets and offered his arm to Dru, whose eyes were as big as saucers. ‘Camel!’ she said, pointing with almost incoherent joy ahead of her. ‘I want to eat it!’

The ticket attendant gave her a startled look and Will treated him to his coldest ‘do you really want to say anything?’ expression. The man looked back and forth between them and then quickly ushered them in. ‘Gates shut in half an hour, sir,’ he stressed. Will turned away disdainfully, and they went through.

There was a scurf of snow on the ground by now, and Drusilla kicked at it as she walked, with playful little sweeps of her satin boots. Will watched her fondly and on one particularly high kick he caught her around the waist and spun her up in a fine circle that made her coat whirl out around her. ‘Shall we play a game, sweetheart?’

‘Oh yes! What shall we play?’

‘You remember when the pixies sing songs in your fingers? Shall we see if you can catch any today?’

She laughed and twirled her arms out. ‘Pretty green songs. Oh – the air is kissing me, Spike!’ She held her face up to the sky as the great cold flakes wafted against her marble skin and frosted her thick, dark hair.

He hugged her and let himself pretend that this was really only a game. ‘So we make our fingers like a butterfly net—’ He held his own arms out and cupped his palms slightly. The light snow feathered against him and he was surprised to discover it tickled. Dru nodded sagely and did the same. ‘—And then we see what we can catch.’ The gesture probably wasn’t necessary, but it always seemed to get Dru in the mood, and it wasn’t as if there was anyone around to see them: well, not counting two tapirs and a rather sullen looking ostrich. The last few visitors must have decided to concentrate on the delights of the Aquarium and Reptile House. Even the other animals seemed to have given up and retreated to the backs of their cages.

Will dropped his arms and followed behind her. They walked slowly now, Dru weaving her head from side to side, making a little humming noise, and then just beside the bird-cages she stopped and tilted her head. Will kept silent and watched her. ‘Can you feel it, Will?’ she asked quietly.

He shut his eyes and tried to centre his senses as she had begun to teach him, and for just a second he thought he could feel something, like a flickering on the very edge of his vision, but then it was gone. ‘Is there something there, love?’

She nodded. ‘A green pixy song.’ She kicked her feet again and a sweep of white sprayed out behind her like a train, with little pearls of what looked like bird-seed mixed amongst it. ‘Brr, I’m cold, Will. Shall we go inside where it’s warm?’

‘All right, darling. Just wait a moment though.’

It didn’t take him long to slip across to the boundary fence and for the first time in his life he gave the soft whistle that was the hunting call to rally. Then he and Dru waited in the lee of a building that apparently contained giraffe, while vampire after vampire climbed the fence and slunk to their side. ‘We’ve found it,’ Will said quietly. ‘Everyone know what to do?’ There was a series of nods.

Bernardo was glaring at him. ‘If this is some trick, boy—’

‘Well it’s not.’

‘And I have very little choice: you’re telling me. Hmm. Five thirty, you say?’

‘If you please, sir.’

‘And now he remembers his manners! Go then.’

Will caught the eye of the three Aurelian minions, grabbed Dru by the hand, and ran back the way he had come.

Back by the bird-cages again, he relocated the site of the tingly sensation and opened the cardboard box Dru had brought with her. ‘You’d better have remembered this right,’ he muttered to himself as he threw the grain in the air and said clearly ‘Retage sesamum.’

Snow continued to waft around them, building up in little drifts against their feet as they stood shivering. A curious eagle owl shifted on its perch and peered at them down its beak, with a disapproving air.

‘Retage sesamum,’ Will said again hopefully. ‘Oh for Christ’s sake – will you bloody retage sesamum!’ there was a faint pop and a black doorway appeared in front of them, with steps descending into darkness.

‘There you are, you see,’ Will said; ‘I knew it would work. Come on.’

One by one they ducked inside, only as Damon crossed the threshold – the last of their group – there was another pop, and the doorway vanished to be replaced by a slab of solid rock. Will realised he hadn’t brought any spare seeds, and that actually had no idea how to open the door again. He decided not to mention this to the others.

The air was cool and dry, but here, magically shielded from the animals, the stench of ferals was overpowering. And in the distance was the chatter of many, many voices.

Will looked at Dru and saw she was wide eyed and quivering. He took her hand reassuringly. ‘I’ll look after you, love.’

‘Daddy—’

‘We’ll find him—’

‘—looks after me.’

He dropped his eyes. ‘Angelus isn’t here, Dru, but I am,’ he said very quietly. ‘And when Angelus can’t be here, then I look after you, don’t I, love. You know that. It’s why I was made. He tells me off if I don’t – you remember.’ He smiled hopefully at her. And she nodded and squeezed his hand back.

‘My brave little Will.’

‘Yeh. Stay quiet and close, Dru, eh?’

She nodded obediently and the five of them slunk forward.

For some time there was no sound but the chattering in the distance like the rustling of some distant wood on a windy day, and the soft pad of their feet. Will was trying to come up with a plan.

Everyone froze at the sound of approaching footsteps: not soft and cautious, like their own, but the hard tramp of two people with every right to be there. Will quickly gestured for the others to get out of the main passageway, and they crowded in behind him into a side passage. The footsteps came closer and a voice spoke, sounding agitated. ‘There aren’t enough weapons.’

‘There aren’t enough people! This is a big undertaking tonight – the Scourge of Europe is not to be dealt with lightly, and we have lost several of our best men over the last few days.’

‘But we have the captives. And with these Tethroc on our side…’

‘Ugh, don’t remind me. Nasty creatures. We’d be much better off without them. And without all this elaborate trickery – it is overcomplicated. The risk of something going astray is too great. Do you realise the spy has not yet returned from Angelus’s household? It is a disaster!’

‘Er, yeh, whatever you say. The spy—’

Damon suddenly yelled ‘Come on!’ and leapt out; Will, Amelia, and Ruben exchanged a horrified glance and ran out after him. Will had time to see a short, bespectacled vampire in a smoking jacket, looking shocked, with a hulking brute not unlike Frank beside him, before Damon seized the large one and got him in a neck hold. Will barrelled in against the feral’s torso and sent them both flying, and Damon grunted as he was squashed against the far wall. Will remembered his axe and brought it up to try and swing, but the feral batted it aside and it twisted uselessly down the vampire’s arm. He swore and dropped it and brought up a fist. The feral blocked that too, but Will got in a quick return jab to his opponent’s chin. There was a shower of dust.

‘What the—!’

Something jumped on him from behind and he swung round, flailing. It must be the small one, who he’d forgotten about, and he tried to kick back and throw him over his shoulder. More bodies flung themselves into the melee and knocked the feral off him, he twisted, caught his balance, and with a yell of ‘mine’ somehow Will found himself with the small feral in a neck hold of his own. But the other vampire writhed like an eel, and though Will held on he couldn’t break his neck. They swung round together and suddenly Damon was in front of them. The scholarly vampire seemed horrified. ‘You—’ Damon plunged a stake in his heart.

Will stood panting. ‘What happened?’

Damon was grinning broadly. ‘Eh?’

‘The big one – what happened?’

‘I staked him from behind while you were punching him. Wasn’t that the idea?’

‘Oh. Yeh. Good.’ He drew a hand across his face and pulled himself together. ‘Did they say something about captives?’

‘Yeh. And a spy,’ Amelia said.

They all looked blankly towards the sound of the feral horde. ‘What are we going to do, Spike?’

‘Will, I want to see Daddy now, please,’ Dru said.

‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ Will said at last. ‘We carry on as before, we’ve just got to go very carefully.’

‘But where is Daddy, Will?’

It didn’t make any difference. Well it couldn’t really: he still didn’t have the faintest idea what he was going to do.

I’m not panicking, he told himself. I will find the source of that noise and assess the situation from there. That is the sensible thing to do. I am not panicking. I am in charge here. And I’m a vampire and I have been perfectly well taught how to fight so there is no earthly reason I can’t do this. I don’t know where Angelus is. I am not panicking. They said they had captives and I don’t know where Angelus is. Damon managed to kill two vampires when I couldn’t even break the neck of one when I had it in a hold. I am young and stupid, and I shouldn’t be here. And Angelus is going to be furious if he isn’t dead. And I am not panicking.

As they sneaked along in single file, Will suddenly felt something land heavily on his neck. ‘None of you make a sound,’ a cold voice said.

Will turned his head slightly. ‘Er… Hello, Sire.’

Angelus’s grip tightened and he yanked Will into the small side cavern he was lurking in. ‘How does that qualify as not a sound, boy? And… what the devil are you doing here?’ he demanded in a furious whisper.

‘Bloody hell, Angelus! I thought—’ Angelus shook him once and he shut up.

‘I just heard fighting; are you being chased?’

‘No Sire. We killed them.’

Angelus released his hold slightly and studied each of them in turn, assessing what he had before him. ‘You have been lucky not to be discovered. Fortunately there are no guards anywhere: they put all their trust in their magic portal. Ill disciplined idiots.’ Angelus did not make it clear if it was them or the ferals who deserved the epithet. ‘You killed how many?’

‘Two, Master,’ Damon answered before Will could.

‘Well done, Damon,’ Angelus said, and Will felt a burst of envy.

‘I held them for him!’ he protested.

‘What are you even doing here, boy?’

Will sulked. ‘Darla went out and left us, but when we found out what was happening we came by ourselves. I would have thought you’d appreciate our help! We overheard them say there’s a spy in your household; and they’ve got captives; and there’s something big on tonight – and they plan to attack us. But don’t worry, I’ve sorted it all out. I couldn’t get all our lot together, so I organised an alliance. The portal will open at five thirty, only when they try to leave Bernardo’s gang will be waiting for them; and we’re goin’ to circle behind so they can’t escape back down the tunnel.’

Angelus blinked.

‘Sire,’ Will added, as an afterthought.

‘How did you know how to get inside?’

‘Well you’ve been making me study the Tethroc all ruddy week, haven’t you. What else would vamps be employing them for? Obviously they’ve been setting up one of their famous portals. You know: the one that needs the powdered bones of a week old human corpse to sustain it. That was why they were digging one up the other night. So I just performed the standard opening spell – I do know this stuff, Angelus; I’m not a bloody idiot.’

Angelus blinked again. ‘You hide it well at times, Will. So where is Darla?’

‘Dunno. I was hoping she was with you by now. Didn’t you tell her you were expecting the lair to be here?’

‘No. I saw a pack of them last night and tracked them.’

‘Oh. Much the same as Bernardo then, except he only just got here. But hang on—’

Angelus held up a hand for silence as he cast an uneasy glance at the roof above him. ‘Bernardo is really up there? Why is he helping?’

‘Ah, well that’s because—’ There was a loud scream, echoing down the caverns; Will looked at Angelus in shock.

‘That, unfortunately, is Harold, or possibly Lusius, The ferals had just captured our boys when I saw them last night,’ Angelus said. He took out his watch. ‘And Bernardo expects them to emerge at five thirty?’

‘Yeh.’

‘Then it is high time we got into position,’ Angelus said decisively. ‘This way.’

As Angelus led them surely through the maze of tunnels that he had had all day to explore, Will felt as if a great load had lifted from his shoulders. He could feel the hum of excitement through his body at the thought of the upcoming fight, but the strain of having to be in charge no longer weighed him down. He had found Angelus, and everything was going to be all right. He looked across at Dru and smiled at her, and she smiled back. ‘My wicked Sir William,’ she said, and he felt a thrill of pride.

The murmuring of voices was getting louder as they approached its source, and at last Angelus began to set his minions, spacing them in carefully chosen positions hidden along the tunnels. He muttered a few words of command to each, and in each case received a brief bow of acknowledgement. Even Dru seemed totally caught up in the master vampire’s calm competence; she listened attentively and then waited in silence at her allotted stand, eyes bright with anticipation.

Finally Angelus stopped again and beckoned Will to him. Together they crept to a doorway and peered through, cautiously.

Will saw a largish space where a score or more of vampires and several Tethroc were all gathered, all chatting away while weapons were handed out and someone in the middle seemed to be trying to give orders, but nobody was listening. Others ran in and out, waving their arms about and looking self-important; no one came near their hiding place. Nothing else happened for some time. Finally, as they watched there was a bustle around a different door and two more vampires came in. One was holding a chain and attached at the other end limped three blood spattered and cast down captives: Harold, Lusius, and, on the end, Ralph.

‘Silence!’ the first of the newcomers bellowed. ‘Silence. Will you shut up!’ Quiet of a sort fell at last. ‘Fellow outcasts of the vampire world, tonight will see our triumph!’ There were rousing cheers. ‘Has the one sent to spy on Angelus returned yet?’ Angelus and Will exchanged a glance.

‘No,’ someone shouted from the back.

‘Are you sure? Is anyone here the spy?’

Angry conversation broke out again, but no one claimed to be.

‘The treacherous cur! He shall pay for this. But no matter: these prisoners have told us where the foul Scourge currently wallows like a fat spider, denying us all our birthright. And tonight, we seize back our share of London from him!’

‘Albert!’ the mob cheered. ‘Albert the Free – new Lord High Master of London! Let the down-trodden rise!’

‘It is time. On to the lair of the Aurelians – on to Bayswater.’ There was a snarl of outrage from Angelus, but the sound was lost in the cheering as the mob headed for the exit, leaving the captives forgotten.

‘At least Harold and Lusius managed to lie,’ Will said softly.

‘I would never live in Bayswater!’

The ferals never noticed Angelus and Will move behind them to free the prisoners, nor the silent obedience with which Angelus’s gang turned to follow in the shadows. Through their caverns the mob marched, heedless of the dark hunters who stalked at their heels and from time to time, working with perfect co-ordination, pulled the hindmost from their ranks and dispatched them so swiftly that the victims had no time even to scream.

There were still too many for comfort by the time they arrived at the staircase, though. Will clenched his fists – Angelus had taken the axe straight off him and given it to Harold – wished he had practised as much as he was supposed to, and watched his sire.

The Tethroc stepped forward and muttered their spells, and Will could just catch a glimpse of sky, and knew the portal must be open. Finally the Tethroc stood back and the feral vampires swarmed for the steps. When about half of them were outside, Will heard the roar as above them Bernardo’s people charged. Then Angelus opened his throat with the bull-bellow of a master vampire enraged, and the house of Aurelius fell upon its enemy.

The dust settled. A great deal of dust, with a powdering of snow drifting down from above to settle on top of it. Albert the Free was caught by a little tornado of wind and circled like the rubbish in the street had – then was scattered for ever.

Will stared at the dust, as he tried to come to terms with the biggest fight he had ever been in. He had killed his second Tethroc; been pulled out of the path of a descending stake by Angelus, twice; and nearly killed a vampire for himself, only Ruben had got there first. He honestly wasn’t sure if he had done badly or well. He looked up at Angelus, searching his face for some clue, but Angelus was talking quietly to Harold, giving orders and arranging details.

Lusius limped past, with four or five feral captives and a fierce smile of revenge on his face. Amelia came after him, nursing a broken arm but still soldiering on. Only one minion wasn’t helping – Ruben’s dust was mingled with the rest that coated the floor.

Damon came up beside Will. ‘Enjoy yourself?’

‘Yeh. I suppose so. I seemed to spend most of my time being shoved safely into corners by Angelus.’

‘I think—’

‘Damon! Are you suffering from some horrible painful wound, boy?’ Harold demanded.

‘No, sir.’

‘Then I suggest, young man, that you start that lazy carcass of yours working, before I give you one.’

Damon rolled his eyes at Will and followed Harold out.

Bernardo came down the stairs looking as if he was an old, white-haired man, but it was only snow. ‘Angelus,’ he said quietly, ‘have you seen my boy?’

‘He is safe. He will be here in a minute.’

Bernardo nodded and held out his hand. ‘It was a good fight. The house of Loratio owes a debt to the house of Angelus of Aurelius.’

Angelus nodded in turn and accepted the hand. ‘Likewise.’

Bernardo sniffed and looked a little embarrassed; he pulled away quickly and stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘That boy of yours is a rude brat, Angelus, but he seems to know his business. You’d better introduce him to me: I expect we’ll be hearing a lot of him.’

Angelus snapped his fingers without looking round, and Will went at once to his side. ‘This is William the Bloody, my youngest childe,’ Angelus said calmly.

Bernardo looked at him and Will waited.

‘You said five thirty, William the Bloody. It was closer to six by the time they appeared.’

‘Perhaps ferals don’t have very good watches, sir,’ Will said.

Bernardo regarded him again. ‘Yes, possibly. Just as fledglings of Aurelius do not always know where a territory boundary lies. I have lost two good minions tonight, and it will not be possible to hunt this part of London for a very long time, but—’ He looked past Will to where Ralph had just appeared, and stared for a while, as if reassuring himself that his boy was relatively unharmed. ‘—my childe is safe. And it is possible that I would not have found the entrance without your help, so if you or your sister ever wish to cross the boating lake by the west bridge, then I shall not object.’ And with that he walked past Will and went up to his own childe.

Angelus set his hand on Will’s shoulder and revolved him round to face him. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No Sire.’ Will looked down, embarrassed. ‘I’m glad I found you before we had to attack, Sire. I don’t think I could have done that part on my own.’

‘Yes boy, I am rather glad of that as well. Now, there is a great deal to do. The ferals have human captives, which I wish to take charge of before Bernardo’s curs find them. We had also better find some way to make sure there is not a magic portal in the middle of the Zoo, come morning. Then I have a great deal to say to these surviving ferals, and they have a lot they will say to me. For example, there is that matter of a spy sent to my household. By the way, where is Murphy, Will?’

‘He never came home last night. Oh! Do you think he…?’

‘Possibly. However, before we deal with all that, you, William, are going to tell me, in exhaustive detail, exactly how you came to be here.’ Angelus folded his arms and waited.

Once again Will found himself returning home in the long shadows of morning. But this time the snow was thick and crisp on the streets, making even London seem clean and quiet and beautiful. And he had Dru on his arm, and Damon strolling beside him, making conversation in a friendly fashion. Angelus and the others had gone on ahead with no less than five humans, which should keep them all fed to their hearts’ content for days. And altogether the world seemed a very pleasant place indeed.

‘Do you know what day it is today?’ Will asked Damon, as they walked.

‘I have no idea… you irritating three-year-old.’

Will met his eye and they grinned at each other.

‘You have been reminding everyone at every possible opportunity for the last few hundred weeks, Damon said, ‘so it is hardly surprising I know. Happy Birthday, Master William.’

‘Well it’s not officially until tonight of course, only everyone forgot last year, so I wanted to be sure.’

Dru snuggled against his arm. ‘You’re all big and grown up, my William.’

‘Yeh, a big bad three. And since I had to spend most of the anniversary of my actual death freezing on a roof while you were off somewhere enjoying yourself, you had better have got me a good birthday present to make up, Dru.’

‘Hush, naughty William, mustn’t tell secrets.’

His eyes widened. ‘Is that what you—’

‘Hush!’

He grinned and hugged her. ‘Well whatever happens I intend to celebrate my birthday better than any three-year-old ever has. And since we’ve got enough food to last for weeks Angelus had bloody well better give me the night off for once.’

Damon stopped and glanced up the street to their house, fumbling in his pocket. ‘Yesterday was… special.’

‘Yeh. No masters, no minions, hardly even any bloody territory rules to worry about. It was fun. Only when we’re back inside, then…’

Damon took out his knife. ‘I think I’d better give you this now, all things considered. It’s not much but it’s all I’ve got on me.’ He held it out. ‘Happy Birthday, Will.’

Will took it. ‘Won’t you need it?’

‘I’ll manage.’

Will stared at him. ‘Dru, love, why don’t you go on in.’

‘All right, Spike.’ She kissed him and left. ‘Don’t be long,’ she called back over her shoulder.

‘I’ll be there in a minute.’ He waited a few seconds until she was gone. ‘Do you think he’ll take you back?’ he asked Damon quietly.

Damon shrugged. ‘I’ll manage,’ he said again.

Will looked up at the sky. ‘I always thought that around sunrise would be the best time to go, if one wanted to run away. Much harder to be followed.’

‘You’ve thought about it, then?’

‘Well, I’d be mad not to have, sometimes. But it’s as you say: there are advantages to being childe to the Scourge of Europe.’

‘He’s not really your sire, you do know that, don’t you.’

‘You do talk bollocks sometimes, Damon. Of course he’s my sire.’

Damon shrugged again. ‘I’d better be going.’

‘Yeh.’ Will stared down at the knife Damon had given him. Carved neatly on the handle were the letters DA. ‘Are you sure you don’t want this back?’

‘Yes. If I go home, maybe he’ll give me another one, and if not – well, wherever I go I doubt I’ll be using the name of Aurelius. We may only be a minor branch of the bloodline, but it will still attract attention.’

‘Yeh, you’re probably right,’ Will said thoughtfully. He dug in his own pocket. ‘Here – go on, take it: you will need a knife. I’ll tell Angelus I lost it. I can’t let you go without one; when you think about it we must be cousins or something.’

‘More the “something”, I think.’

‘Yeh. To be honest I had forgotten you were another Aurelian. It’s all the same blood though, isn’t it.’

Damon smiled thinly, and turned on his heel to slip off into the shadows. Will watched until he was out of sight, then ran home.

Darla was in the drawing-room, engaged in a furious conversation with Angelus, which they stopped when Will came in.

‘Here you are, you see,’ Angelus said, indicating her to Will. ‘Safe and sound. And far too wise to have wasted time worrying about the rest of us – aren’t you, darling. And Darla even managed to find Murphy, Will, he spent the past twenty-four hours in a drunken stupor under a table at the Black Dog, apparently.’

Will regarded Darla, who was looking at him with a less than pleased expression. Dru was curled up in the corner of the sofa – yawning, but she gave Will a little wave. ‘Do you believe Murphy?’ he asked Angelus.

‘Well I shall have something to say to him about it, but on the whole: yes. I know what Murphy is capable of and his plotting with some mad feral is not very likely. Now if Albert the Free had been a Newmarket stable owner I might have been more suspicious.’

‘Oh.’

Will went and collapsed next to Dru, who took his hand, but he was too tired for anything else and clearly she was as well: so for a while he was able to relax in the silence. Then he became aware of how loudly the clock was ticking, and at last opened his eyes. Angelus was looking at him.

‘What?’

‘One of the chief advantages of being a master vampire is having energetic young fledglings to provide the little comforts of life,’ Angelus drawled.

Will scowled, but forced himself up, dragging his feet with theatrical weariness over to the decanter.

‘If you have the energy to clown you have the energy to find my slippers as well.’

Will served Angelus and Darla, dug Angelus’s slippers out from under a chair, and knelt to unlace his sire’s boots.

‘Ah, the vigour of youth,’ Angelus remarked as the first boot was yanked off.

‘Other one,’ Will said sharply, slapping at Angelus’s calf like a farrier. With both boots removed he jammed the slippers on Angelus’s feet and stomped back to his place to collapse again. Angelus allowed him perhaps thirty seconds of peace.

‘You forgot to hand me my cigar— I saw that look.’

Will scowled even deeper but went and caught the cigar box up with a snatch from where it lay on a small table – barely two foot from Angelus’s elbow – and held it under Angelus’s nose.

‘Hmm, this seems to have fewer left in it than I remember.’

‘Are you having one or not?’

Angelus carefully selected one. ‘Are you for some reason assuming that I am too tired to thrash you, Will?’ he asked with interest.

‘Perhaps I’m too bloody tired to care.’

Angelus grinned and passed his selection back up to Will, then as Will returned the box to its place Angelus stuck a lazy arm out and yanked Will up against his side, one hand around his waist. Will pretended to ignore him, clipping the cigar, but he lolled back slightly, into the crook of Angelus’s arm.

‘I can remember when I had a sweet little fledgling whose greatest pleasure was to run errands for me,’ Angelus said.

‘Yeh? Died of exhaustion did he?’

Angelus chuckled and patted Will indulgently. ‘One last errand for you, Will: fetch the switch down.’

‘Oh bloody hell, Sire, you don’t mean that, do you?’

Angelus took the prepared cigar back from him. ‘I can’t imagine why you would think any order of mine was merely a joke, boy. You can bring me a light while you are over there.’

Will hesitated a second longer. But Angelus just released his hold and prodded him in the direction of the mantle-piece, so he sighed and did as he was bid: taking a light from one of the gas jets and then plucking the switch out from its resting place behind the clock. Angelus accepted the light but then, to Will’s surprise, waved him away, leaving Will still awkwardly holding the hated switch.

‘Now, my boy, you have some explaining to do: Darla informs me that she told you not to leave the house.’

‘But if we hadn’t—’

‘Never mind what happened because you did. I am more concerned with the fact that you were very clearly told not to.’

Will considered the pattern of the carpet. ‘She only said not to set foot out of the front door, Sire, and we didn’t: we went out the back way.’

There was a loud snort from Darla, but when Will risked a glance up he saw a raised eyebrow was the only response from Angelus.

‘It’s ever so true, Angelus,’ Dru chimed in helpfully.

‘Hmm. You were also told not to let anyone in.’

‘Didn’t let anyone in, Sire: Amelia and Ruben waited outside until we left.’

‘What a perfect example of obedience you are, Will,’ Darla said.

‘Indeed, darling, aren’t we fortunate,’ Angelus said dryly.

Will set his jaw, stuck his thumbs in his pockets, and stared back at Angelus boldly. Dru gave a little giggle, and then, when Darla turned to her with narrowed eyes, bit her lip and gazed up at the ceiling innocently. ‘What are you sitting on, Drusilla?’ Darla suddenly demanded, and snatched at a piece of paper half under Dru’s skirt. It was the telegram, and Darla smoothed it out and studied it with a darkening expression. ‘This is addressed to me. Perhaps you would like to explain, William, why it has been opened?’

Will thought fast. ‘Well, actually it’s addressed to D. Aurelius, Madam, so we thought it must be for Dru.’ And, as he said it, the truth hit him.

‘Is there anything you don’t have a smart answer for?’ Darla asked.

‘Try him on this, Darla: How exactly did you get hold of that telegraph, which you thought was for Dru, given that you weren’t supposed to answer the door?’ Angelus looked at Will with an expression of polite enquiry.

Will shook himself out of his reverie and tried to think of a sensible answer. ‘Er… We spoke through the letter-box?’

‘That would still count as answering the door. Try again.’

‘Oh… Ah! I headed the telegram boy off and called him to the window before he ever reached the door,’ Will said triumphantly, hoping that Dru would keep her mouth shut for once.

‘Hmm, not bad. Only, what time was it delivered – surely the sun would have been shining directly onto that window?’

‘Oh.’ He fidgeted with the switch in his hands.

‘Come along, Will, a talent for deceit is an important skill for a vampire.’

‘We-ell… What really happened was… when the bell rang we ignored it for quite some time, and then I just yanked the door open and glared at him, and… And that stupid etiquette book you and Harold insist everyone follows says that when answering the door you should be prompt, neat, and be wearing gloves – and I wasn’t, so it doesn’t count as proper answering.’ He looked at Angelus hopefully.

Angelus considered all this for a while and then nodded quietly, set his cigar carefully on a silver ash-pan, and stood up. ‘Very well. Pass me the switch.’ Will grimaced and handed it over. ‘I insist you all follow the etiquette because to the outside world we need to appear as like to a human household as possible. A fact that you should very well know.’ Angelus looked at the switch and gave a couple of test cuts through the air. ‘By the way, darling, what was your telegraph?’ he remarked casually.

Will, who was trying not to watch the switch, studied Darla, and for a few blissful seconds he saw her undergo what the cartoon sketches always described as a sensation.

‘Angelus, are you saying that this telegram was not sent by you?’

Angelus took it from her and glanced over it with a frown. ‘ “Place found as expected. Join me five thirty exactly, repeat five thirty. Relying on you.” Hmm. Well the signature A could hardly be said to constitute proof of authorship.’ He smiled. ‘A snake in the grass, darling – it is a good thing Will had the sense to realise.’ Angelus turned a cold eye on Will. ‘You did know it wasn’t from me, didn’t you, boy?’ Will nodded slowly. ‘I would hate to think you came blundering into a feral lair with no good idea of what you were doing there.’

Will swallowed. ‘I think… I think the telegram was to try and lure the gang into a trap. Only I foiled them by arriving ahead of time.’

‘Perhaps. Oddly enough, Will, I recall you being slightly late.’ Angelus returned the telegram to Darla, and she re-read it with a frown.

‘It strikes me, Angelus, that this was more likely intended for this spy you mentioned.’

‘Indeed.’

‘The spy who was not Murphy.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Well?’

Angelus picked his cigar up from the ash-pan and took a deep puff, before setting it back down and returning his gaze to Will. ‘You have had more time than the rest of us to think this out, boy. Which of the minions do you think we should drag in here and press for a confession?’ He began to tap the switch lightly against his leg.

Will stared at it. ‘I’ve never really trusted Ruben, Sire,’ he said at last.

‘Ah… Ruben. That would be… a possibility.’

‘Why would a telegram for Ruben be addressed to D. Aurelius?’ Darla snapped.

Dru suddenly sat up straight. But she kept her peace.

‘Something of a mystery, Darla.’ Angelus said calmly. ‘But then it can hardly be one of the others: no spy would be stupid enough to quietly come back here to us. Although given that Ruben is dead, and the way those wretched things are written, we will probably never be sure just who or what it was meant for.’

Dru made a small sound and everyone looked at her. Again she seemed about to speak, but then she caught Angelus’s eye and whatever she saw there seemed to make her fold up on herself, and she settled back onto the sofa with a frown. Angelus nodded quietly.

‘William, you never said how you knew the telegram wasn’t from Angelus,’ Darla said eventually.

‘Er… Well, isn’t it obvious, Madam?’

‘Yes, boy, but I want to hear you say it,’ Angelus said, while Darla eyed Will frostily.

Will watched Angelus, who was still tapping the switch.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

In time with the ticking of the clock.

At last he tore his eyes away from it and cocked his chin. ‘Much as I admire you, Sire, I would never believe you’d sent a telegram. An’ if you did manage to do something so up-to-date it would run to ten pages, explaining every last detail in perfect grammatical English. Now if they’d used a carrier pigeon I might’ve been fooled.’

Angelus pointed the switch at him. ‘You cheeky little brute. Come here.’ Will edged closer. Angelus looked down at the switch, then abruptly reversed it and held it out, handle first, to Will. ‘That needs re-waxing, and the edge of the handle binding is coming loose. See to it, will you; and then you’d better get to bed – you’ve had a hard couple of days. Well take it then, you daft boy: you don’t think I’m going to do it myself, do you?’

Will allowed his shoulders to relax at last, and he smiled and took the switch. ‘Sleep well, Sire.’

Angelus reached up with a curious expression on his face, and ran a gentle finger down Will’s cheekbone. ‘Sleep well, little one.’ And he leant in and gave Will a slow and very tender kiss. When he pulled away, Will looked up at him yearningly, on edge again, straining for some gesture from Angelus, some definite word of approval. But Angelus only took a step back. Will waited a second longer, then he squared his shoulders and went across to Dru, carelessly twirling the switch around his fingers like a baton. He pulled her up into his arms and into a leisurely kiss of his own, one which he made a point of carrying on for longer than Angelus’s had.

Darla was speaking. ‘So, Angelus, what would you have done if this boy had been obedient for once and never read the telegram?’

‘Why, just waited until the ferals left, then freed Harold and the others and come quietly home.’

‘But what would you have done about the ferals? Let me remind you that according to you they wished to attack our lair, Angelus.’

‘So they did, dear, but I dare say they would have soon got over their disappointment and found something else to do – in Bayswater.’

‘Ah. Yes of course. All of which makes William’s actions rather pointless, does it not?’

Will stopped kissing Dru, and waited. He was sure Angelus and Darla were both staring at his back.

‘Are you going to bed, boy, or not?’ Angelus said.

Will turned and looked at him in silence, then he grabbed Dru’s hand, mumbled a perfunctory ‘Madam,’ at Darla, and started for the door; very deliberately not looking at Angelus again. ‘Time for bed, Dru.’

‘No,’ Angelus said. And that was all: no explanation, no anger, just very calmly – with the unshakeable expectation that it would be obeyed. Will stopped in his tracks and stared at Angelus in disbelief while Dru dropped his hand and went back to her darling daddy’s side. Why? He wanted to shout, but didn’t dare; he felt stupid and young again, and all the things he despised. He turned and looked at the clock: he had been inside for perhaps half an hour – wherever Damon was going he could not have got far yet. If he told Angelus now there still might be time to catch him, bring him back. I like to please my sire, he had told Frank. And then he thought of Frank, dangling from his chains in the slaughterhouse of the scullery. And he imagined Damon in the same position. Only not facing Will: for Damon of Aurelius it would be the Scourge of Europe himself wielding the knife.

They were home, they were safe, and Albert the Free was dead. I am three years old, Will thought, I can manage without Angelus’s approval.

‘Sleep well, Will,’ Angelus said again, and then he turned his back.

Will came down the stairs that afternoon with the determination to be cheerful. It was his birthday: he was three years old. And although it wasn’t much compared to the hundred and thirty that Angelus was, or the three hundred odd of Darla, it was a definite step along the way. He had decided he was going to enjoy himself: so enjoy himself he would. Dru at least had clearly remembered this year; well she had as of that morning – which given Dru wasn’t a cast iron guarantee, but it was better than nothing. And if Angelus refused him permission to go out then he would take Dru and go without permission, consequences be damned.

He swung into the kitchen with a grin. The house was quiet. He had passed Murphy, slipping down the back stairs with a black eye and doubtless the promise of direr consequences to follow, but he had vanished somewhere towards the front. Ruben was dead; Amelia and Lusius were hurt enough to have grace to lie in bed. And Damon was gone.

In a few days no doubt Ralph would be joining them, and Angelus would have no trouble making numbers back up soon. There was never any shortage of ambitious young vampires eager for a place with the Scourge of Europe. But as he battled the range to yield enough heat for a cup of tea, Will decided that he was grateful that for his birthday there would be only the old minions around. They had all been with the family for almost all of his short vampire life, and today that felt right.

There had been no indication from Angelus that he would have any tolerance if he skipped his usual tasks, but he skimped them and hoped for the best. Harold appeared at the appointed time, limping slightly but otherwise apparently recovered. He looked over Will’s perfunctory efforts at cleaning the drawing-room with his usual sour expression, and then raised his eyebrows in Will’s direction and examined him down his nose. ‘I feel, Master William, that this has received less than your full attention,’ he said with a tone of voice that managed to sound polite and threatening at the same time, and as usual Will felt like a junior officer being reproved by a very senior NCO.

He fidgeted, and then thought, sod this, it’s my birthday. ‘It will do for today, Head Minion.’

‘It will have to Master William. I have a special job for you today.’ And he turned and left without waiting to see if he was being followed, which gave Will little choice but to do so. He sulked along behind, downstairs to the kitchen quarters. Will gasped when Harold held open the door to the scullery and pointed inside.

‘But…!’

Harold held out a large scrubbing brush. ‘There is a bucket under the sink I believe.’

‘But it’s going to take forever: the ash burnt over the blood when he exploded. It’s set like blo— like concrete—’

‘The Master’s words were, “He made the mess: he can clean it up,” Master William.’

‘Oh, bloody hell. But why do I have to do it all on my own? Damon helped make it!’

‘Damon, Master William, is not here.’ Harold dropped the brush into his hand. ‘You, however, are here. And it was the Master’s particular instruction that you were not to be allowed back upstairs until you had finished.’ Will glared at him. ‘Properly,’ Harold added, and he went out.

Will threw the brush down and kicked it the length of the floor, so it skittered away and at least knocked a few bits of encrusted blood off. Then he grabbed the bucket, filed it with as much splashing as was possible while still getting some water into the thing, and hurled the contents at the flags. After that he jammed a rag in the outlet pipe, turned the tap on full, and proceeded to fling bucket load after bucket load at the floor, walls, and even the ceiling; whilst the sink overflowed to contribute to the mess. He cursed Angelus, Harold, Darla, Damon, Frank, and ferals in general. And the water splashed back at him until he was sodden, with a pinkish brown tinge streaked with grey soaked into his clothes and skin. He stopped at last, the empty bucket dangling from his hand, and stared around at the room, which was now swimming in dirty water. Then he saw Angelus, watching him from the doorway with an amused expression. Angelus was as immaculately dressed as always, in an evening suit, with emerald studs, and a green carnation in his button-hole. Will dropped the bucket with a splash, and Angelus took a smart step back as a small tidal wave rolled towards him. ‘Why do I have to do this?’ Will demanded.

‘I somehow doubt this is what you were asked to do.’ Angelus picked his way forward into the room, and turned the tap off, leaning back with a calm expression when Will took an angry step towards him.

‘Don’t you know it’s my bloody birthday!’ He pointed up at the window accusingly ‘It’s already dark – you’ve made me miss half the evening, you bastard!’

‘Really, your birthday?’ Angelus peered around the room with curiosity, as if he had never been in a scullery before. ‘You astonish me.’

‘You—’ Will stopped and his eyes narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Going on, Will? I have no idea what you mean. However,’ he looked up at the dripping clock, ‘it might be a good idea for you to go and clean yourself up quickly and change into, oh… say, the dress coat that’s laid out in your room. We don’t want to keep the horses waiting.’

Will whooped and ran out past Angelus, only splashing him slightly.

In under ten minutes he was ready and fidgeting in the hall whilst Angelus fussed over his hair. Harold passed them and gave Will a grin and a wink. Then Murphy and Amelia came past, heading for the second of two cabs waiting by the step, and they were both carrying several packages. ‘Its done! It’s done!’ Will cried, batting Angelus off his tie. ‘Come on, Sire.’ Angelus gave him a look, ‘Well we mustn’t keep the ladies waiting, must we?’ he said at once.

‘Very thoughtful of you, Will. Lead on.’

The packages were being passed in to Darla and Dru, who were waiting in one of the cabs. Murphy took a step back and waved Will in with a deep reverence and a deeper smile. Will scrambled up and Dru jumped on him at once with a hug that tumbled him back onto the blue velvet seat. ‘Three, three, three,’ she chanted. ‘Oh it is going to be so splendid, Will! We went a few days ago and tried it out, but there were too many silly humans there then and—’

‘Drusilla!’ Angelus pulled her back with a hug round the waist. He purred against her neck. ‘Your job, Princess, is to sit on Will’s lap and make sure he doesn’t look out of the window while we are driving. But you don’t want to spoil the surprise, now do you – not after keeping it for so long. Say “Yes, Angelus”.’

‘Yes, Daddy,’ she squeaked, and squirmed round so Will settled her on his knee. Angelus sat down beside him and threw an arm over his shoulder. Darla had the facing seat to herself, with the presents beside her. And she was smiling.

‘Happy Birthday, Will,’ she said. ‘You did very well yesterday, so be sure you enjoy tonight properly.’

Will was so surprised he said ‘Thank you, Madam,’ and felt he really meant it.

Angelus thumped on the roof and they pulled forward smoothly.

‘Presents,’ Dru said at once. ‘Mine first.’

Darla looked over the pile and passed two packages to Will. He juggled Dru across a little, then ripped the ribbon off the smaller one and unfolded the tissue paper to reveal a small blue bottle with ribbed sides, such as chemists used for poisons. There was still dirt crusted in the cracks and it was quite probable she had dug it up in a flower-bed during one of her periodic bursts of ‘gardening’. There was a plug of sealing-wax.

‘It’s a sunbeam, Will. All of your own. But the pretty glass will keep it safe from hurting you. I had it bottled specially because I know you sometimes miss it still.’

He dropped his face against the soft, silky skin of her arm and nuzzled in her scent. ‘Thank you sweetheart. It is the best present ever.’

‘Thank you for taking me to the Zoo yesterday, Will. It was a very yummy treat. Only it wasn’t…’

‘I know, sweetheart, it wasn’t the Tower of London. Maybe one day, hey?’

She sighed and then gave a brave little smile. ‘There’s another present from me, but it’s not as special.’

He tugged off the second ribbon and paper, and discovered a large box of cigars, which were mysteriously exactly the same brand as Angelus smoked. ‘Drusilla felt,’ Angelus said dead pan, ‘that if you had a box to yourself you might be less inclined to steal mine, and that domestic harmony would benefit.’

‘Daddy suggested it really,’ Dru whispered, ‘but I tied the ribbon.’

‘I prefer the sunbeam,’ Will whispered back, then he winked at Angelus, who winked in return.

‘Very nice, Drusilla,’ Darla said. ‘This is from me, Will.’ It was unwrapped, a plain tin flask which he turned over in his hand with a blank look. He felt Angelus’s hand move to the back of his neck and stroke up and down lazily, and he tried to raise the words to be polite. ‘I thought that you would prefer tin, Will, since Angelus cannot possibly make you polish it. And the irritating fellow in the shop assured me that it had a patent cork-lining, guaranteed to keep the contents warm,’ she said in an offhand drawl. ‘I have noticed that you seem to have trouble concentrating when you are hungry. It may come in handy on long nights.’

He tilted back against Angelus’s hand and smiled at her. ‘Darla, that is extraordinarily thoughtful of you, thank you.’ Angelus stilled.

Darla looked at him for a long moment. ‘My pleasure, William,’ she said, with a graceful incline of her head. And Angelus tripped his fingers up into Will’s hair, tugged once on a lock with a playful twist, and then dropped the hand back onto his shoulder.

Will examined the flask again and thought how pretty Darla looked, now that she was well fed and not worried about ferals for the first time in weeks. And how she wasn’t really such a bad sort – when she put her mind to it.

‘The minions’ joint present is in their cab with them, because I do not particularly wish to have to smell it all the way there,’ Darla was saying. ‘It consists, I am told, of a large chocolate cake, which Angelus assures me he is actually going to permit you to eat, although who knows what it will do to you; several jars of something unspeakable called Patum Piperium; and a crate of beer.’

‘And your main present from me is tonight in general; however, so you can’t complain, I organised that as well,’ Angelus said, pointing at the last package.

Dru lent forward and scooped it up. ‘Can I unwrap it?’

‘Course you can, Princess,’ Will said, before anyone else said different.

She bent with concentration over the ribbon and squirmed and flapped at him to leave her alone when he pinched her while she was busy. Then the knot was untied at last and the expensive looking creamy paper removed. She tilted her head with a puzzled look, and passed the present back to Will.

It was a book, brand new, with a beautiful brown and green binding tooled with gold, and gold edging to the pages. The title was worked on the cover:

Advanced Hunting Skills and Other Matters
A concordance of material
that a fledgling vampire is required to imbibe
~:~:~
by
Angelus of Aurelius

It was very thick.

Will stared at it and his heart sank.

‘I had one bound up for you specially, Will,’ Angelus said. ‘They are rather rare of course; it is peculiarly difficult to get people to publish such things. Open it: there is an inscription.’

Will flipped it open. The frontispiece was properly bound in but was of the thick cartridge paper Angelus habitually used for sketching. The inscription was at the top, in Angelus’s beautiful hand:

For Will,
upon the occasion of his third birthday,
because he thinks I don’t understand.
A

Underneath was a drawing of Will himself, looking out from the page with a cheeky smile. Will paused, as he always did upon seeing again the face that hadn’t shown up in a mirror for so long. Oh well, he thought, even if the book is a tedious doorstop, at least I get to keep one of his pictures of me. Will glanced at his sire, and turned to the table of contents. His eyes widened.

• William Harrison Ainsworth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jack Sheppard
• Edward John Trelawny . . . . . . . . . . . The Adventures of a Younger Son
• Gilbert Abbott À Beckett . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Comic History of England
• Thomas De Quincey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Collected Essays
• Jerome K. Jerome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Three men in a Boat
• Robert Smith Surtees . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Jorrock’s Jaunts and Jollities
• Wilkie Collins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Moonstone
• Marquis De Sade . . . . . . . Known Works with Additional Rare Material

‘Did you think I hadn’t noticed how often you hide a different book inside the ones I have told you to read?’ Angelus said calmly. ‘I thought I’d give you something you actually wanted, but already inside a suitable cover.’

Will was speechless.

The cab rattled and jolted, and then stopped. Dru at once threw herself off Will’s lap, and had flung the door open and leapt out before he could stop her. He looked after her ruefully ‘I was going to hand her down.’

‘Never mind, William, you may hand me down,’ Darla said. Angelus patted Will’s shoulder and Will got up and assisted Darla out. ‘Ah, the Embankment,’ she said. ‘How… yes, well, I am very glad they saw sense about the lighting. Those electric ones were novel, but hardly becoming to the complexion. They will never catch on. I far prefer gas.’

‘You’re an old fashioned girl,’ Angelus said, offering his arm.

‘Well we’re here:’ Will demanded, ‘why are we here?’

‘Tsk, such impatience, my boy.’

The minions had already arrived, their cab having presumably found a quicker route, but they weren’t doing anything. They were lounging under one of the lamp-posts amidst two or three hampers, and chatting quietly; Amelia went over to pay the cab and retrieve the presents, Harold and Murphy were holding hands, Lusius was throwing snowballs into the Thames. Dru had vanished.

Will looked up towards the Savoy Theatre and wondered if Angelus had taken a box and they were waiting for the doors to open. In the hurry to dress he had forgotten his watch, but it felt late for the theatre. Angelus and Darla had crossed the street and were strolling along under the gaslights; Angelus did something that made Darla giggle like a girl. Will ran after them and dashed up against Angelus. ‘So what now, Sire?’

‘Patience, little one.’

Will frowned and grabbed for Angelus’s watch. ‘Is it the theatre?’ A firm hand closed over his wrist and turned it away before he got the chance to see the time.

‘A vampire should be able to wait for the correct moment, Will,’ Angelus told him sternly.

‘Well where’s Dru?’

‘I imagine she hasn’t gone far.’ Angelus caught Darla’s eye and she nodded slightly, dropped his arm with a fond pat, and strolled off by herself. ‘Come and talk with me, my boy,’ Angelus said, going and leaning on the balustrade, looking down at the Thames.

Will was puzzled, but went up beside him, copying his pose. He lounged, watching the inky black water, spotted with lights from the opposing shore. Angelus did not seem inclined to talk after all. Will heaped a little snow up on the rail, then flicked it off and watched it spatter down. ‘You once tipped me over this for being rude,’ he said inconsequentially. ‘Well – a bit further along.’

‘Did I? I don’t really remember. I’m sure you deserved it.’

‘It was the first time you kissed me.’

‘Ah, that night.’

‘I can remember that. And the taste of my first kill. The feel of the night air after I rose. Discovering how fast I could run. The first time I heard Drusilla laugh. How proud I felt, the first evening you trusted me to escort Darla on my own. You showing me a glow-worm when I’d never seen one before.’

Angelus smiled. ‘Remember the first time I made love to you?’

‘Yes. And the first time you beat me.’ Angelus straightened up a little and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Will shrugged. ‘At least you’ve always done both.’

‘You’ve always needed both.’

‘Yeh. Probably. The odd thing is, I can’t remember being made. I do remember Dru mesmerising me, and then she must have bitten, but I can’t remember the rest.’

Angelus stared out over the river; he brought one foot up onto the swell of the stone baluster, and rocked slightly, pushing himself back and forth.

‘It’s odd that, don’t you think? All this time and I don’t even know how it’s done.’

‘Hmm. What was that, my boy? Oh. Yes. Possibly. But you were dying: no reason to remember it clearly. And we aren’t here to remember some silly little human getting himself killed. We’re here because three years ago tonight William the Bloody was born.’ He reached out and cupped Will’s face. ‘And I remember every second of that night perfectly.’

‘Damon said…’ Angelus tilted his head and Will hesitated. ‘He said fledglings were only made to increase their sire’s power, and that one day you’ll send me away, like his sire sent him.’

Angelus met his eye steadily. ‘And do you believe everything Damon said?’

‘I don’t know what to believe.’

Angelus released his hold, but didn’t break eye contact. ‘Damon is a very clever young man, although not quite clever enough to hide it, but I have never had as high an opinion of his hunting as he does. Do you know why that is?’ Will shook his head. ‘Because he lacks the single most important skill for hunting: the ability to judge character. So I would never take too seriously Damon’s opinion on what I will, or will not, be doing in the future, or for that matter what I have done in the past. Very well, Will?’

Will nodded and tried to smile.

‘Sensible boy. Now you, on the other hand, are an excellent judge of character, which is why one day you will be a very good hunter indeed. And hopefully not as spoilt or arrogant as Damon: take for example his assumption that I did not know what he was up to, the past few days. I knew perfectly well, I simply did not see reason to stop him.’

Will looked away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

‘What on earth are you sorry about?’

‘Damon – the ferals – I didn’t realise until it was too late, and then…’

‘What are you talking about, boy? Damon acquitted himself admirably against the ferals. You did very well, Will, but when all is said and done you are only three; I am extremely glad you had Damon to help you. And I have no doubt he will live a long and interesting life. Though I hope he will have the sense to lead it well away from my territory. Make it a point, Will, never to employ anyone who is cleverer than you are, but even more, never anyone who just thinks he is.’

‘But he betrayed you! He was a spy. The telegram—’

‘Damon! Of course he wasn’t. Damon has far too much sense to ever work with someone like Albert the Free. You don’t still think that telegraph was anything to do with the ferals, do you? The ferals never knew where my lair is: despite all you young fools drawing attention to us all the time, I do manage to keep it a secret. They had to try to torture the location out of Harold and Lusius, and couldn’t even do that properly; so how could they have sent a telegraph to the correct address?’

‘But they said they had a spy.’

‘I have no doubt they did: some idiot sent to try and find us who probably ran away or got himself killed days ago. The ferals, as you no doubt noticed, Will, were ill-disciplined half-wits.’

‘Oh. So what was the telegram all about?’

‘Well, I imagine that at five thirty yesterday morning when Damon went to whatever the agreed place was he did indeed find waiting the A who was relying on him to turn up; probably his brother Aristophanes. Although, as I said to Darla, the signature A is hardly proof of anything much. Angelus, Albert the Free, any one of a hundred Aurelians for that matter – there are a lot of us around. And as for that message… The post office is to blame for charging telegraphs by the word: it makes them so very hard to understand. I miss the days of carrier pigeons.’ Angelus winked and reached out to close Will’s mouth. ‘Cheer up, Will, it’s your birthday.’

‘Yeh.’ Will said at last. ‘I’m three.’

‘You are indeed.’

He turned round and gazed at the lights of the theatre, casting a questioning look at Angelus, but there was no sign of any desire to move on his sire’s part. Will sighed and hopped up to sit on the stone rail. ‘The funny thing is that for the past three years all I’ve wanted is to get older: not to be just a stupid little fledgling any more.’ Angelus looked up at him with a smile. ‘Only, when you think about it, that’s silly. People are always going on about how childhood is wasted on the young, and why can’t they see it’s the best days of their lives. Well, living for eternity or not, I’m only going to be a fledgling once. I’ve been given a second chance – you gave me that chance.’ He stressed the you and looked at Angelus steadily. Angelus nodded quietly. ‘Call it the best nights of my life if you like. And I’m not going to waste them worrying about the future.’

‘That, Will, is very wise.’ And Angelus tipped him back, half over the balustrade, to kiss him fiercely.

Angelus straightened up, pulling Will with him. ‘Hmm, this boat seems to want to come in here for some reason,’ he remarked.

While they had been talking a large steam launch, of a size big enough to accommodate a deck for dancing, and gaily bedecked with streamers and coloured lamps, had been moving round from the far side of the bridge. And it was now coming in to dock beneath them – the soft humming churr of the engine deepening as it backed water to slow down, and then it gently swung in to bump against the pier. The beautiful copper of the engine gleamed in the lights, while a spiral of steam from the funnel drifted up to join the stars; it was like some tamed dragon of dreams and legends. A crewman ran out to make all fast. Will, who liked boats, turned round to watch.

‘My God, that’s Dru in the bow!’

‘Yes, it does look like her. And for some reason my entire household seems to be heading down the steps to go aboard. Do you think we should join them?’

Will’s eyes lit up. ‘We’re going on it!’

‘Well since I paid to have the whole thing to ourselves, and we have brought a picnic – the meal they wanted to provide didn’t sound suitable, ours is more liquid – it would seem rather a waste not to go. Unless of course you want to spend the rest of the night chatting here with me?’ He laughed as Will jumped down, grabbed a fistful of his waistcoat, and started to march him towards the steps. ‘Steady on, give an old man a chance.’

‘Hurry up! Which way are we going?’

‘Well that’s up to you. But the captain assures me that given this tide and a suitable bribe to the lock keeper we have plenty of time to make it to Hampton Court and back before dawn.’

Will cast greedy eyes up-river, towards the locks and inlets, quiet backwaters, and the long smooth stretches in between, where he had spent so many happy sunlit hours, and which had been denied him for so long. Then he looked down again at Dru. She was holding her arms to catch the rays from the coloured lanterns that, reflected back off the ceaseless water, cast mysterious patterns of blue, red, and green over her flawless skin. She was bewitched by them – and engaging and impenetrable and utterly, utterly beautiful. He looked down at his own hands and saw the same pattern, rippling prettily across his palms.

‘You know what, Angelus, I rather think we should go downstream. I’ve never seen Greenwich or the estuary.’

‘Whatever you wish, Will. Tonight is your treat.’

Will jumped onto the boat with a graceful leap. ‘Come along then, Sire, let’s take Dru to see the Bloody Tower.’