Sweet William – Part II

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

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

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

‘Oh. Sorry, Sire.’

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

William licked the smears off his lips and nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But—’

‘No!’

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

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

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

‘Aren’t I, my boy? Why not?’

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

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

‘I mean it, Angelus.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes.’

There was a raised eyebrow.

‘Yes, Sire.’

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

‘Yes, Sire.’

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

‘No, Sire.’

‘So you are grateful for my lessons?’

‘Yes, Sire.’

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

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

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

‘Please, Sire.’

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

‘Please, Sire.’

‘Whose boy are you, William?’

‘Yours, Sire.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Have you finished?’

‘Um, yes, I think so.’

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

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

‘I, er, well, yes, sir… er, Sire.’

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

‘Why, Sire?’

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

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

But there was still one problem.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Well it is. And—’

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

William kept silent whilst Angelus marched him home.

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

‘Where are the others?’

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

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

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

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

‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’

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

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

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

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

‘Let me down, you brute.’

‘Language!’

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

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

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

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

‘I’m not an animal.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes, Sire.’

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

‘Yes Sire.’

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

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

‘Whose are you, William?’

‘Yours, Sire.’

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

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

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

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

‘Could my blood heal you?’

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

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

‘Yes?’

‘Does Angelus whip you often?’

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

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

‘What is it?’ she asked petulantly.

‘My cuts have healed!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But how long ago in time?’

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

‘What does that make me?’

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

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

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

‘Well that sounds all right then.’

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

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

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

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

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

He put his hands over his ears.

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

I don’t care.

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

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

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

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

‘Do you want to dance, William!’

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

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

‘I could kill someone some other way.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘It’s all right, Frobisher.’

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

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

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

‘Quite possibly,’ the other man said gently.

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

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

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

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

‘Nothing, Sire.’

He walked home at the master vampire’s heels.

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

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

‘No.’

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

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

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

William shrugged.

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

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

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

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

Frobisher looked away, embarrassed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Get on with it.’

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

Oh.

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

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

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know – what?’

‘I don’t know, Sire.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Please.’

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

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

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

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

‘Please, Sire. Please. Pleeease.’

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

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

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

Another cut.

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

Another cut.

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

Another cut.

Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh Christ.

Another cut.

Anything. Think about anything. Anything at all.

Another cut. And another. Another. Another.

No. Please. No.

‘Stand up.’

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

‘Look at me. Now show me your fangs.’

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

‘Good. And your human face.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes Madam.’

‘Show me.’

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

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

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

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

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

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