1. Within/Without

London 1880:

Darkness enveloped him. He knew his eyes were open for he had opened them just a moment ago, hadn't he? Confusion started to set in. It was never this dark in his room, even on the night of a new moon. Therefore, he reasoned, he must not be in his room. He struggled to think what the last thing he could remember was.

Her. Strange and beautiful, she had been, stalking him across the alley, speaking to him of dead fish. He had been certain she was a robber. She must have half-bricked him. That would explain the ache running through him. He must be at the infirmary. He thought of how worried his mother must be as he moved to sit up and hit resistance almost immediately.

"What?" His voice echoed around him, sounding hollow.

He felt around himself, frantic now, and felt only silk. That's when it hit him. As scared as he was, he should feel his heart pounding in his ears...but there was nothing. Memories came crashing back to him. She'd offered to give him the effulgence he had so terribly wanted. Her face had a metamorphosis into a grotesque masque that he had somehow still found entrancing. The pain of her bite had been quickly replaced by a pleasure intense and unlike any he had known in his sheltered existence.

He knew where he was and that his mother would no longer worry for him.

Moonlight glimmered across the grass, a sea of subdued green marred by a fresh mound of churned earth, a new grave. Two women, a blonde in red brocade and a brunette in white silk, were waiting. The brunette danced around nervously while the blonde looked on in amusement.

"I told you that you should never have left him in that alley. It seems his family is not well enough off to have a mausoleum. Now, they have gone and buried him. He will never make it out; they seldom do."

"But he was to be my white knight. We must help him."

A deep chuckle came from the trees before a large, dark man walked out into the moonlight. A lilting Irish voice spoke tauntingly, "What kind of knight would he make for you if he cannot even make it out of his own grave? Honestly, Drusilla, I do not understand why you insisted on turning that boy." He walked to the blonde and put an arm around her, eyes still on the slim brunette, Drusilla.

She, meanwhile, was staring intently at the grave marker. She reached up to run her fingers across the inscription, reading it aloud. "William Wesley Whitehall IV, 1852 - 1880, Perchance to Dream." She sighed and turned to her companions, rising from the dirt. "You are just like the rest of them. You refuse to see his great potential. I see that beauty that dances behind his eyes."

The blonde laughed aloud. "You have missed much amusement, my Angelus. She does go on about poetry and nonsense, like a love sick little girl."

Drusilla spun back around and knelt on the grave, grinning. "The fish are swimming."

"Darla, did that make any sense to you?"

"I would guess at her excitement that he is about to come out, at last."
 
 

2. Who are you?

Three faces stared at the damp ground, waiting for the newest of them to arrive. Songs of night birds drifted around them. The only other sound was coming from the fresh grave in front of them, the small sound of dirt moving. A pale hand broke through the earth prompting Drusilla to squeal with delight. She dove to the ground and started clawing at the dirt around that hand with her fingers, trying to speed the progress. A glance back at Angelus and Darla showed a maniacal grin, from ear to ear. "I told you he would make it. The stars have shown me his strength."

Angelus walked over, hauled her to her feet and pulled a struggling Drusilla away from the grave by one arm. She responded by wailing loudly while William attempted to emerge. "This ossuary will not hold him."

She kicked at his legs as he moved her further away so that he finally resorted to lifting her up with his arms wrapped around her so that her arms were pinned to her sides at the elbow. "Calm yourself. If the boy makes it, I will teach him for you." Then, more to himself, "As if the interred ones ever make anything of themselves."

Darla glared at him. "He is not yours to teach. She chose him; let her deal with it."

As if in answer, he looked at Drusilla, then whispering to herself and laughing at some unknown thought. "You think he would survive if I let her teach him herself? I wonder that she has made it this long."

"She is what you have made her. Then again, you had already made her mad before you turned her."

"It was fun, for me anyway."

Drusilla struggled against Angelus' hold. It looked as if both of her arms had twisted around completely backwards. "He shall need a steed." At that, she managed to break free and ran to help William sit up in the grass next to his grave marker. She tried to let him go but he was shaking so hard she had to hold him up with one arm while brushing the dirt off his face with the other. In response to his quiet moans, she started cooing to him softly. "Shhh. Mummy will make it all better. We shall have chamomile tea and butter cookies."

"He needs to feed if she wants him better than a minion. Remove her. This is pathetic." Darla walked over and pulled Drusilla away from William, causing him to fall back against the ground with a groan.

Angelus walked toward the prone figure while removing his jacket and handing it to Darla, who smiled encouragement, on the way by. He rolled up his left shirtsleeve as he crouched next to William. He put his arm out in front of the newly risen one but William didn't make a move. He was just looking at Drusilla as if he had no idea where he was or what he was supposed to do.

Angelus brought his wrist up to his own mouth, went to his true face, and bit down hard so that blood started running out. Placing his wrist in front of William's face, he said to the boy, "Drink." William's eyes grew large and he felt the hunger rise within him at the smell of blood.

Drusilla came back to sit beside them. "Drink for mummy, be a good boy." His new face appeared with a snarl; he latched on to Angelus' wrist and began to drink.

When Angelus deemed he had enough, the wrist was pulled away; William clutched at it wildly trying to maintain his grasp. The ire of Angelus was quick to rise. William was backhanded and would have fallen back to laying on the ground had Drusilla not caught him.

"I say when you've had enough, boy!"

"Who are you?"

"Angelus, but you shall call me Sire."
 
 

3. Coming home

He woke to the sensation of a carriage, bumping along and strong, slim arms around him, his head splayed back against a soft chest that neither rose nor fell. It was she. He could hear her humming to him a lilting lullaby meant to sooth his nerve-wracked state. He must have passed out. Maybe if he lay still, she wouldn't know he had awoken. He knew he was damned but couldn't care while he could feel her arms around him.  He wanted to write odes to her, for she surely walked in beauty as much as that famed lady of Lord Byron's poetry. Only, she didn't walk like the night; she was the night.

Then again, so was he now. He'd read Dr. Polidori's story of Lord Ruthven, knew of the terrible tales of Varney from the "penny dreadful" his mother still kept in her room. These "people" were the ones responsible for the deaths being discussed at the party the other night.  He knew what they were. He knew what he obviously had become. Opening his eyes, he saw that the other two were not inside the carriage. They were surely in the driver's seat. He tensed slightly at the memory of drinking the man's blood, the overwhelming pleasure of it. He wanted more, needed more.

The humming stopped. "William?"

She knew he was awake. A hand came up to run through his hair while she waited for his answer. "Where are we going?"

She sighed, a strange sound coming from one who had not been breathing but a moment before. "Our palace awaits, my sweet. I knew you would survive. I have a champion at last."

She thought he was some sort of knight? He could feel himself wanting to fight for her. "Whose champion am I to be? What is your name?"

"Drusilla. But we are to be family. You may call me Dru if you wish."

"Family?"

"Yes, I am your new Mummy. I made you to stand by my side for the night sky showed me all your inner glory, that which is imagined and shall be lived."

"Right, then. Who is Angelus? Who is that other girl?"

The hand that was still in his hair stopped moving. "My Daddy, his Mummy Darla."

"And I am to call him my Sire. Is he lord over us?"

Her arms were suddenly gone from him. He missed the contact, though devoid of human warmth, immediately. "The Black King and Queen who reign over all they see."

He sat up and glanced out the window at the surrounding darkness before turning and looking at her face. She was beautiful in the pale moonlight coming through the carriage window. "By what right do they reign? Do you wish to be under their control?"

"Only one ever really resisted."

"Who was that? What happened?"

"His name is Penn. Angelus made him. Darla says he found humor in making such a good man go bad. They fought."

"And Penn lost? Did Angelus kill him, then?"

Her face pouted. "Sent him away. None of the others want to play. You will play with me, William?"

He could see the hope in her eyes and suddenly could not remember what he had found so wonderful about Cecily. She seemed empty in comparison. This girl sitting by him was everything. "I shall do whatever you wish me to do, Dru."

The carriage had made its way across London. It pulled up in front of a lovely row house of red brick and white woodwork. White steps and carved rails led to a large oak door. There was a gaslight going in the drawing room, easily seen, as the curtains were open. It was not where one would expect to find monsters, or so William would have thought until that very moment.

Angelus leapt down from the carriage and helped Darla down to stand next to him.  A servant came through the front door. "Shall I take the carriage away, then, Sire?"

"Just a moment, Nigel." He called back to the carriage, "Drusilla, bring your new toy along now."

The door to the carriage opened. Drusilla stepped out slowly with a dreamy look in her eyes. She whispered, "We are home, William."

He stepped out to stand behind her, looking up at the house. "So we are."

Angelus came and threw an arm around William's shoulders roughly to lead him to the house. "Welcome home, Will, my boy."

Darla looked back at them peevishly. "Leave them be, Angelus. It is almost dawn; come to bed. They can find their own way for now." She reached out a hand to Angelus, which he immediately accepted, following her up the stairs without another word.

"The fire will soon rise across the sky, sweet William. Follow me and we will find a haven where we will be safe from its burning pain."

Mimicking Darla's gesture, she put a hand out for him. He hesitated, looking afraid, for just a moment before taking her small hand in his. She was so frail, her hand felt like almost nothing. She smiled at him and turned to lead him up the stairs quietly.

On the third floor, she stopped in front of a closed door, reaching out her unoccupied hand to open it. A canopy bed, covered in white lace was in the center of the room. Shelves full of porcelain dolls lined the walls. She gestured for him to enter the room. He did. She followed closely, closing the door behind her. "Do you like our room?"

"Ours? Together?" He stammered, "Is that proper?"

"We will be together always. Come." She turned her back to him. "Unbutton the back for me?"

If he had a heartbeat, it would have stopped. He stepped up behind her slowly and began unbuttoning the back of her gown with trembling hands. The last button undone, she turned to face him and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. "Welcome home, my sweet."
 
 

4. High Tea

Darla watched Angelus pacing across the room, the light from the fireplace casting looming shadows as his large form moved back and forth. "What has you so vexed?"

"Did you not see him? An hour after digging himself from the earth, he seemed adjusted to it."

"Your point being?" she sighed in frustration.

"Usually those from graves emerge a wreck of their former selves. He handled it so calmly. Have you ever seen that before?" He stopped pacing and turned to look at her, sprawled across the bed in only a velvet robe. An impish grin spread across her face.

"No, but I do have something you might want to see. Come to bed."

He walked toward the bed and sat on the edge, his back to her. "If he handled this so well, perhaps he can learn from us, after all. Maybe those voices in her head told her the right thing, for once." He chuckled lightly. "I thought she had taken the joke about turning the first person she saw seriously. We could do with another strong one among us."

She moved to her knees behind him, resting her hands on either shoulder. She whispered in his ear, "You still miss hunting with Penn? You two were so much alike."

"I should never have sent him away."

"You did what you had to do. He would not have been happy staying after the fight you had. He never did take losing well." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his back. "No need to think of this now. The sun is up; come to bed."

It was dark again. Try as he might, he was unable to see anything around him. He reached his hands up slowly, hoping it would be different this time; he was disappointed by the barrier inches from his face. He had to get out of there. Ripping through the silk lining only took a few seconds. The wood beneath it felt smooth to his fingertips. That was when the panic set in. He felt his nails break and smelled the blood on his hands as he clawed at the wood. Wood gave way to earth, the smell of blood overwhelmed by the scent of damp soil, which fell all around him and on him. He gulped at air that would not seem to fill his lungs. "No." A soft touch was placed on his shoulder, shaking him gently.  It was as if she were suddenly trapped in the box with him as she pulled him into her arms, his head coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Shhh. They call for quiet voices at the concert hall. Else, the singing will drift away and be smothered by the crowd." Her hand moved in soothing circles on his back.

He was disoriented, having no idea where he was once again. "What?" He opened his eyes to find Drusilla looking back at him, a very nude Drusilla lying in bed with him. He remembered the morning, suddenly. Every kiss, every caress came back to him in a rush of images and sensations. He smiled at her tentatively, which earned him a soft kiss.

"Were you seeing things in your mind? I often see things I have no wish to know."

He closed his eyes on the look of anguish that moved across his face. "I suppose I was."

"The time for dreams has passed with the downward arc of the sun." She looked at him with a gleam in her eye. "Now is time for play." She got out of the bed pulling him with her by one hand. He retrieved his trousers from the side of the bed and put them on as she walked around the room dreamily, putting on her dressing gown. Halfway across the room she stopped and turned to look at him. Her eyes went wide, then closed tight before she started to whine. She dropped his hand and put both arms across her stomach. She spoke in barely whispered tones. "He would see that their blood runs like pomegranate juice."

William felt her fear surround him. He took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around her protectively. "What is it, Dru?"

She pulled back just far enough to look in his eyes, tears running down her face. "I am seeing things again. Mummy told me it was wrong but I cannot make it stop."  She buried her face in his shoulder, shivering against him.

"You have visions? What did you see?"

"You look so much like them, except for the terror on their faces. He would make you kill them to prove yourself. He always does. They would huddle together waiting for the scythe to strike them down. So beautiful even through their tears."

She broke away from him and went to one of the shelves, gathering up several dolls in her arms and sitting on the bed, rocking the dolls like infants. "My poor Edith was the worst; I still hear her crying. If I could find her and make it better, maybe she would quiet."

He looked horrified at her words even though he lacked complete knowledge of her torment. "Edith was a child? What happened to her?"

"She had pretty lace gowns and smiled when Mummy sang to her. She never smiled when I sang after Mummy was gone. I tried all the same songs."

"Edith was your sister, then? You must miss her very much."

"I have looked for her for so long. Angelus brought me all these girls but none of them are her." William looked around the room at all the dolls. There were so many in different sizes and appearances. He realized that she was mad but didn't care. He could take care of her.

"Do you want me to find her for you?" He sat next to Drusilla, slowly reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder.

"He will find them if he knows you miss them."

"Find who?"

She handed two of the dolls to William. "Your mother and sister. He would test you like he did Penn, make you kill your family like he did." She pulled the sheet from the bed and placed it over the dolls in Williams's hands. "Hide them from him. Never seeing them again would be better than hearing their cries in your sleep." She paused for a moment. "Would you like some tea?" She walked to the table in the back corner of the room, placed the remaining doll she had held into one of the chairs, pulled a napkin from the table to the doll's lap and placed a teacup in front of the doll. "Fredericka takes sugar in her tea."

"If he asks, I will tell him I have no surviving family. Will that help?" He sat at the table as a teacup was placed in front of him.

"Do you prefer sugar or honey?" She held an empty container in each hand.

He decided to take her complacence as a positive answer. "Honey, thank you."
 
 

5. A night out

They had talked about nothing and, yet, talked about everything. Twenty imagined cups of tea were passed to him while they sat together. Fredericka had somehow angered her mistress and had her head removed for the offense. The doll could no longer speak to her if her head were not attached, after all. The doll body still sat in the chair but the head was in Drusilla's hand. She was brushing its hair and humming happily while William stared into his still empty teacup.

One question was still eating at him "How long have you been with them?"

"Forever and since yesterday. I cannot say which." She put the brush down and hugged Fredericka's head to her chest. "I am always so alone that time means nothing. They have each other."

He reached across the table and picked up the brush. He got up and went to stand behind her and began brushing her hair. She closed her eyes and held the doll's head tighter.

Just before sunset, there was a knock on the bedroom door. William went to the door but didn't open it. "Yes?"

A muffled voice came from the other side of the heavy door. "It's Nigel. Master Angelus sent me with some things for you."

William turned to Drusilla, an eyebrow raised in question. "Daddy's manservant. Maybe he brought a present." She dropped the doll's head to the table and scampered excitedly to stand behind William. "I hope he brought me a songbird. Mine stopped singing to me."

The door opened, they saw Nigel standing in the hall, arms full of boxes. Drusilla bounced up and down clapping her hands quickly together, rapt with delight at seeing the mass of items.

"Mostly clothing for William, Mistress Drusilla, so sorry." She pouted and looked at Nigel until he relented. "Well, there is one box for you, the one on the top. Master Angelus wants you to dress in your finest this evening."

She ran forward and grabbed the smallest of the boxes off the top of the pile. "Ooh. Little boxes are best. Take your presents, William."

He took the rest of the boxes from Nigel, who turned and walked away without another word. Closing the door with his hip, he carried the boxes to the bed.

Drusilla floated down the stairs ensconced in emerald velvet with William trailing behind her, looking distinctly uncomfortable with his heavily starched collar. When Drusilla opened the double doors to the drawing room, Angelus and Darla both turned from watching the fire to see Drusilla and William enter.

Angelus held out a glass of a strange smelling milky green liquid to William. "Glad to see everything fits, lad. Have a drink to start the evening."

William eyed the glass suspiciously before he saw that Drusilla and Darla both appeared to be drinking the same thing. Closing his eyes, he took a sip. The girls both giggled as he sputtered, "God, that is awful." He coughed and looked closer at the liquid. "What is it?"

Darla eased up to him and took the glass out of his hand. "Absinthe is an acquired taste. Perhaps we should add more sugar for him." She walked with the glass to the drink cart, placed another sugar cube in the glass and stirred. The liquid looked clearer. "Try now."

He slowly took another sip with three pair of eyes on him. This time, his nose only wrinkled a little at the flavor. "The thing is, I never drink alcohol."

This got him a sharp laugh and a slap on the back from Angelus. "You do now, lad. Drink up, then."

Drusilla motioned to Angelus so that he would lean in for her stage whisper. "Where are we going tonight? Is it a surprise?"

Angelus pulled back from her and sat in the wing chair by the fire. "You know our destination. William will want to show his old family that he is alive and well, or well, anyway."

Drusilla looked William in the eyes. This was what she had warned him about. He decided to heed that warning. "What family, Sire? I only have this one."

Angelus growled at him, "What do you mean?"

William went as if to speak but was interrupted by Drusilla. "I saw him all alone, just like me. Perfect."

Angelus was irate. "Dru, come here." Timidly, she approached her Sire. He yanked on her arm so that she was level with him. She gasped in fear causing William to take a step forward. Darla put a hand on his chest.

"I should not think to try anything, childe." She removed the hand but he stayed still.

Angelus watched Drusilla's face for a moment then moved a hand to grasp her by the hair. She screamed when he pressed her head toward the fire. He snarled at her, "What have you seen?" When she refused to answer, he pushed her closer to the flames.

She relented and answered him, lying. "Dead. All of them, dead and gone. All alone in the world, he was."

Angelus growled deep in his chest and released her with a shove. She ran to William and sobbed on his shoulder, frightened. He ran his hands down her hair to calm her.

Darla spoke up, "That would explain why she chose him. We shall find another lesson for tonight." She smiled at Angelus and walked toward him, hips swaying. "Here we are, all dressed up and nowhere to go. I say we go to the theatre."  She turned a glance to Drusilla, who was only sniffling. "Would you like to see the pretty dresses, Dru?" Drusilla nodded. "See? The theatre it is." She rang the bell for Nigel to bring the carriage.

Drusilla spoke quietly. "I want to find a red dress."

Angelus smiled at her wickedly. "You shall have a red dress and the pretty girl wearing it. You wore your new barrette for me? Good girl."

"Yes, Daddy." William looked from one to the other. This was most disturbing after the scene he had witnessed. It was no wonder the girl felt she needed a champion. He swore to himself that he would learn quickly and take the threat away from his princess.

The carriage pulled up in front of the theatre. The crowd was large for the event was a new musical. Gilbert and Sullivan had struck another hit with 'The Pirates of Penzance.' It had been a sell out in New York and looked as if it would be in London. Richard Temple as the Pirate King was getting rave reviews, as were the ingénue and young man playing Kate and Frederick. William wondered how they intended on getting into the theatre since they had no tickets. He didn't have to wonder very long.

Angelus and William exited the carriage first to help the ladies out, their skirts being difficult to manage gracefully. Drusilla's eyes went wide at the crowd. "Look at all the shining gems. We shall have such fun tonight."

Angelus brought Darla's hand to his mouth for a kiss to be placed on her knuckles. "You ladies wait here. William will come with me to get tickets."

William looked to Drusilla but she only smiled at him. So, he followed Angelus into the crowd. "How are we to get tickets? Surely, they are all sold."

Angelus didn't even look back at him, merely kept walking ahead. "You have much to learn, lad. Find a group of four people."

William stopped walking. "What do you intend to do?"

Angelus turned to look at him. "I intend to do nothing. You will do it."
 
 

6. Choosing

Neither Drusilla nor Darla liked waiting. It only took a minute or two of standing where they had been left before Dru began fidgeting and Darla grew annoyed. Against Angelus' wishes, Darla led Dru into the crowd. Darla was already on the hunt, searching the crowd for someone who caught her eye. When she found none, she asked after her companion, "Did you find your red dress, yet?"

Dru wasn't really listening to her because she was too busy searching the crowd for her new friend. She hoped he would do well enough for Angelus' expectations. She wasn't sure if he was strong enough to survive Angelus' disappointment. "They simply disappeared."

Darla frowned at her, not knowing what she meant. "Who disappeared?" Drusilla stood up on her toes, turning around and trying to see farther into the crowd. She neither answered the question nor seemed to have heard it at all. Darla watched Dru long enough to figure out her dilemma. "Worried about your new boy?"

Drusilla finally noticed someone was speaking to her. "Do you hear the music starting yet? I do so hope they make it back in time."

Finding the four of them was easy enough. William spotted the women with the most expensive looking gowns in the crowd. He gestured at Angelus to mark his choice. Angelus pushed him toward the two couples. William was hesitant. "You see, the thing is, I'm not sure what you want me to do."

Angelus could see the fledgling was going to need help this first time. "Follow my lead, lad."

Angelus' easy charm saw that the four of them followed him into the alley with little convincing. William had followed behind slowly, uncertain of what he was to do. His new demon had shown him the way.

Angelus, never one to stay out of the hunt, even after telling William to do it himself, moved first, grabbing one of the women by the throat. "Now, childe!"

He leapt at one of the men, the one who looked about to challenge his Sire. He felt the rush of ecstasy as the fight began. It was all a blur for William until the second he tasted the blood on his tongue. He drank greedily, not stopping until there was no longer a pulse to help push the ambrosia into his mouth. He dropped the man and backed away in a daze.

He stared down at the body. He'd killed the man, practically removing his head from his neck. Angelus had taken the other three in no time at all. William looked at his hands, held them out in front of his face. He could feel the power running through him, the borrowed warmth of another's blood. He felt alive more alive than ever before. Everything was suddenly brighter, louder. She had delivered the promised effulgence.

Angelus moved into his view, holding four pieces of paper in front of him with a smile. "Good choice, boy. We have box seats. My girls will be pleased."

Angelus turned to leave the alley. Before following, William looked down at the carnage. Drusilla should have a present.

The women were not where they had been left. Angelus let out a low growl of annoyance before they heard Drusilla's voice calling from a distance.

"William!" She would have run had Darla not linked elbows with her to keep her to a dignified walking pace. They reached the men quickly, as it was. Drusilla stood in front of William with an open smile. "I hear a whisper of presents. Something glistening." He pulled the necklace out of his pocket and held it up for her to see. Jet beads with a few glimmering diamonds shone in the moonlight. "You brought me the night sky. So beautiful."

"Even diamonds cannot shine as brightly as you do. Would you like to wear it?" At her happy nod, he moved behind her to put the necklace around her throat.

Darla pulled Angelus aside, whispering, "How was the first lesson?"

Angelus' brow knitted together in a show of concern. "I fear he may enjoy the battle a wee bit too much. He'll need to learn the art of the kill before it becomes a liability." The two of them watched Drusilla and William cooing at each other like the new lovers they were. "He may be even stronger than I thought. It took almost no direction for him to make a kill. I've never seen anything like it."

Darla grinned at him. "I have. He reminds me of when you were that young."

Darla found what she wanted on the way into the theatre. The usher who seated them remained in their box with them, in body if not in spirit.

The seats were wonderful. The box was on the first tier, stage right, with a perfect view of the crowd. Darla and Drusilla watched the theatre patrons take their seats until the gaslights were dimmed.

The opening of the curtains found Dru completely engulfed in the story. In her mind, what was on the stage was as real as what happened around her every night. William had to restrain her in her seat when the Major General took the stage for his big number. She wanted to join the dancers around him in the chorus. It was all William could do to keep her from trying to sing along where she sat.

When the curtain closed and the crowd began to disperse, Drusilla gasped. "Red as blood. I've found her."

William followed her gaze to a lovely woman in a red dress, a woman he had hoped never to see again. There were almost four million people in London. Why had Drusilla picked that girl?  He turned to Drusilla to plead with her to choose another when he realized what her motive was. Drusilla knew who the girl was. She had seen her in her visions of William. She wanted Cecily to suffer.
 
 

7. Ghosts

At a closer look, the red dress was red with gold embroidery, almost random near the bodice but becoming roses near the hem. It was breathtaking on her. Then again, he had always found her to be beautiful.

Cecily stood in the lobby, surrounded by her usual entourage of admiring young men. William watched her smiling, as if she hadn't a care in the world while his new family moved closer. She laughed at some unheard joke made by the man who had so ridiculed William the other night. He had to think of something. She may have broken his heart but she had always been so much kinder than the rest in the past. It was one of the many reasons he had loved her. Perhaps Drusilla could be dissuaded.

He made an attempt at distracting her. "Dru, a black gown would look stunning with your new necklace and the ivory of your skin. Simple elegance suits you." She didn't look like she could be diverted. "Besides, that girl is surrounded by people. She would be difficult to lure away."

Angelus accidentally helped William in his cause. "The lad is right. It would draw too much attention."

Drusilla glared at William. "Naughty boy. You shall have no cakes with your tea." She pleaded with Angelus. "Grand Mummy was able to choose."

Angelus seemingly tried to both placate and scold the girl. "She used discretion. Really, Dru, you should know better by now. We can get you a dress made just like it. Choose another."

Frowning, Drusilla found another victim. Her choice was plain to see as she began weaving her way through the crowd toward a man, alone. William, who relaxed again, and Darla followed her at a distance.

Angelus, finding himself easily suspicious of William's motives, stayed behind to listen to the lady in red. He made his way close enough that he could hear her voice. "I thought the pirates were outlandish. Honestly, I heard their costumes were much better in New York. That hardly seems right, does it?"

"One would think that those Yankees..." Cecily's nearest companion froze, forgetting what he was saying.

"Richard? What is it? You look as if you see a ghost."

The man swallowed and took a deep breath before he could answer. "I thought I saw William the Bloody." His voice came out sounding strangled.

She paled and tried to peer into the mass of people. "But he died; they buried him."

"Exactly." Richard shook his head as if to bring himself back to reality then smirked at Cecily. "Perhaps his ghost still follows you."

The whole group looked at Cecily, silent with anticipation. Cecily fluttered her eyes and looked as if she might faint dramatically, one hand to her forehead. She righted herself and laughed. "Richard! You should not tease me so." The whole group erupted into laughter.

He wondered what William had done to earn such a lethal nickname. Perhaps the lad had plans of his own for those people. Angelus had heard enough and walked into the crowd after his family.

Exhilarated, he found himself watching Drusilla stalk the man. The way she moved bored into his brain in such a way he would never forget it. When the man stopped near a lamppost to light a cigarette, Drusilla approached him. Did she proposition him? The man certainly was smiling as if that was what had happened as Drusilla took his arm and led him off down a quiet street. William felt jealousy tear through him. He somehow knew he was being punished for taking Cecily away from her.

Darla had gone to the carriage to wait, as had, presumably, Angelus. William was free to follow Dru as she worked at her leisure. The longer it took, the more disturbed he became. What game was she playing? Did she mean to kill the man or simply make William suffer the rest of the night?

William saw her glance back his way, smiling devilishly. She knew he was there. She stopped the man and walked around him in such a way so that the angle allowed William to see her face. She ran her hands up and down the man's chest. He leaned in to kiss her. After a moment, the man's kisses slowly running down Drusilla's throat, William saw her face change. Seeing that change again, he could only see the beauty of it, the fear and shock no longer in him. He knew from personal experience how deadly she was but still found himself envious of the man as her fangs slipped into his neck.

William found himself at her side the moment the body slipped from her arms. He had suffered enough. Passion could be a potent salve for the wounds of jealousy.

Darla stepped into the carriage as soon as William and Drusilla arrived, her annoyance at being delayed obvious. Once on the road, she asked, "What took you two? We were about to come after you."

Drusilla closed her eyes and inhaled, fingering the jewels around her neck. "His bouquet was so rich I wanted to savor him. I can feel his blood bubbling like toffee before it sets."

Darla rolled her eyes and huffed at her. "That why you have leaves in your hair?" William would have blushed if it were possible in his new state. "You two could have waited until we reached home, could you not?"

Angelus interrupted, sparing William the embarrassment of answering Darla's pointed question. "I heard the strangest thing after you all left the lobby." He turned to look William straight in the eye. "You knew those people, right lad?" William turned to look out the window, avoiding Angelus' gaze.

Darla's mouth opened as if she were shocked beyond speech. She recovered. "He knew them?"

Angelus' expression was unreadable. "At least they seemed to know him. Thought they had seen a ghost, none too pleased about it either." To William, he said, "I guess they were not mates of yours, then. Heard them making light of your ghost stalking one of them. Perhaps they feared William the bloody? My question is simple. What are you going to do about it, boy?"
 
 

8. Discussions

The carriage making its way toward home once again, they were all waiting for William to answer his Sire. The only sounds were the horse hooves striking the cobbles and the wheels creaking along. The four occupants of the carriage were deathly quiet. William was reluctant to look in the direction of his companions, reluctant to speak.  Darla watched William looking out the window. She broke the awkward silence by asking, "They called you William the bloody? I think I might like that. Were they dreadfully afraid of you?"

William didn't want to answer either question. They weren't going to like the answer to one and he was unsure of the answer to the other. He chose, at last, to answer the simpler one first, not really lying, just misleading a bit. "They tended to avoid me." Perhaps he could avoid the other question, altogether. He gaze had never left the window.

He felt Drusilla start to shudder next to him. "Dru? What is it?" He put his arm around her in his worry and looked to her. She whispered incoherent words, her head swinging in a hypnotic rhythm.

Angelus spoke quietly. "I love when she does this." He watched Dru steadily.

Drusilla stopped whispering to herself and put her head on William's shoulder. All was quiet again until she spoke, "The perfect surprise for your friends is on the rails. Sharp and cold. Hard and Hot. They already told you what to do if you but remember what that boorish man said."

She must have had another of those visions. Eerie, it was, the way she could see beyond the confines of space and time. William thought for a moment. What had Richard said just the other night after reading one of his poems in front of the whole party? "A railroad spike?"

Nodding, Drusilla giggled. She put a hand to William's cheek and peered into his eyes. "Answer his prayers and let him never hear another poem. The lights go out with one little push." She shivered. "Is it cold in here?"

"I have you, pet." William put his arms around her tighter, even though he had no warmth to share. He answered the hard question. "I guess I do have a plan in mind."

Drusilla laughed. "Mummy's good boy."

Darla and Angelus sat alone by the fire in drawing room. A piano was playing Beethoven's Pathetique in the distance, a piece just over a century old. Angelus was sitting in the wing chair in deep thought as Darla sat on the sofa, watching him. "What is it now, Angelus? Still worried about William? I think his plan is delicious."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin resting on the points of his fingers. "He knew them and said nothing. With us a day and already he defies me. Lad needs to learn his place before he gets himself dusted, or all of us."

Darla rose from the couch and walked over to sit on Angelus' lap. She put her arms around his neck. "He merely lacks direction. Has not learned to take orders, yet. Give him something difficult to task. Send him out alone. He will either learn his place and succeed or fail and eliminate himself as a problem."

Angelus smiled broadly. "I like the way you think."

She played magnificently. Whether it was something she had learned before she was turned, or something learned since then to pass the time, he did not know. Her nimble fingers caressed the keys, the touch of love pulsing through the music. The piece fit her so well, bouts of sadness laced with moments of gaiety, a perfect compliment to her mania.

They had a music room when he was a child. It was one of the first casualties after the loss of his father; none of the rest could bear to sit at the patriarch's beloved piano. Still, he didn't remember it looking like this. Who were these people, these monsters who still insisted on surrounding themselves with beauty? He had always thought that monsters moved in the shadows; he had always been full of strange notions. One difference was clear, his imagined monsters would not have lived in a beautiful home or taken him to the theatre.

"Has it always been like this, for you? Have you lived this well always since you came to be with Angelus?" She didn't answer him for a moment, caught up in her playing.

She finished the movement before speaking, hands still poised over the ivory. "Grand Mummy says he showed her how to live amongst the people. He gave her gifts and showed her beautiful sights. They have lived this way since." She paused in her speech to pull her hands up where she could see them well. "I had so many more jewels before. Now, I never know where they are. Fairies hide them from me while I sleep." She glanced back at him before returning to her playing. "Come sit by me?"

He walked across the room and sat next to her on the piano bench. "You play well. How long have you been playing?" She closed her eyes and hummed along with the music her fingers created. "Do you not know how long? Is this another thing for which time no longer has meaning?" She continued to play but lay her head down on his shoulder. He said, "I suppose it matters not, does it?"

She stopped playing when he put his arms securely around her. "All that matters is family, William. You are my family."

He kissed the top of her head. "True."

She pulled back out of his arms to look at him. "He has no trust in you."

He frowned. "Angelus?"

She nodded. "He will ask you to follow his orders. Please, for me."

He gathered her into his embrace; it was the only way he felt at peace. "Anything for you, pet."
 
 

9. Getting it Done

The next night saw William out alone on the orders of his Sire.  He felt like an errand boy but Drusilla had been most insistent that he should follow Angelus' direction. He walked toward the library at the university through the misty night. The London Fog was out thick, complete with its unhealthy greenish black tinge and daunting odor. At least he needn't worry about his health any longer. The breeze blew just hard enough to part the fog and reveal the doors of the building he wanted. The heavy doors and stone walls loomed over him as he stared at them in awe. It overwhelmed him no matter how many times he saw it, a monument to the knowledge of man.

He wondered if Angelus knew there was a certain irony in the first task he gave his new childe. Could he have known how many hours William had spent in that same reading room to which he was now dispatched? He knew his scholarly days were over. No more would he sit and pour over volumes of poetry and history, taking in the ambiance of the college. He came as a prowler this time, intent on stealing one of those precious tomes of history.

Down the hall, he saw it. The door to the reading room beckoned.  He opened the doors on the room filled with dark wood and musty books. The large gothic window on one end of the room barely let in any light on a dark night such as it was. William wouldn't have needed much light to find his way even without his enhanced nocturnal sight. He knew the room by heart. He followed the path on which his memories led him, across the room to the steps, up the steps to the balcony, to the end of the balcony and the books nearest the window.

He found the book he needed with little effort just before he heard the door creak open again. He turned his back to the stacks and saw Gilford, the night watchman, his lantern held out high in front of him, squinting into the darkness of the room. "Who's there?" came that uncultured voice William had grown to love. William had spent much time in the library after hours with the watchman, who had allowed him to continue his studies at all hours of the night. He had even spent more time with this man than he had with his own father.

Maybe the old man had heard of his passing and would take him for a spirit. No. He had to get out of there. He heard Angelus' words from earlier that evening echo in his mind. "This book is important, lad. Let no one see you or eliminate those that do. It cannot be traced back here."

"Please," William thought, "do not let him see me." Vampire stealth took time to learn. Unfortunately, he had only been a vampire for days. One of the books on the stack behind him, set off balance by the removal of his prize, fell to the floor with a thump.

Gilford was at the steps quickly and up them to the balcony even faster. "I said who's there?" Gilford walked across the balcony toward the sound, effectively cutting off William's only route of escape.

He knew he no longer had a choice. Things were going to be as they would be. He stepped forward into the circle of light cast by the lantern, smiling. "Hello, Gil."

Gilford jerked so sharply that he nearly dropped the lantern. "Will, William, that you, mate?" He paused and took a step forward, holding the light up again. "Bloody hell, I heard you was dead."

William looked at him with sad eyes. "I fear you heard correctly."

The old man stood agape. "What? Walking around all dead like, are you?" He laughed as if relieved. "You scared me to death, boy. What's in your hand, then? Here to study ancient history tonight, are you?" He grinned. "Come on downstairs with me. If you're lucky, I might even share my dinner. Lydia made biscuits just this morning. I know how much you like those."

William walked toward him at a snail's pace, setting the book on the arm rail as he walked. "I would let you go if I thought only I would suffer, Gil. I want you to know that. If he knew I let you live, having seen me here with the book..." William moved closer. "He must know I promised her to do as he asked. I have to protect her. Please understand."

Gilford started to back away, fear creeping into his face. "William, what are you doing?" Gilford's breath caught as William's face changed. "Oh, hell."

William walked in a daze. He had considered that man a friend and killed him anyway. Strange thing was, he liked it as much as he had liked the death the night before, if not more. The fear Gilford experienced only made the blood sweeter. He experienced no guilt, only immense satisfaction as the hot liquid made its way over his tongue and down his throat. He felt himself growing stronger every time he fed.

He had left the grounds of the university far behind before he knew where he was. The storefronts all around him were dark. At that time of night, nothing was open. Still, he found himself drawn to one of the stores, a small shop, on an alley corner, with a small window facing the street. This shop caught his attention despite its size and the fact that it normally would not interest him. There, nestled in the window display, he saw something he knew he had to have.

Breaking into the shop to get the item took almost no time at all. A new spring in his step, he headed home in the waning night.
 
 

10. Prodigal Son?

Angelus stood looking out the window from the drawing room, glass in one hand, the curtain held open by the other. The sky paled in the distance. He let the lace curtain fall from his hand and back into place. He spoke with his back to the other occupants of the room. "The sun is almost up, Dru. Your boy has been gone a long time. Perhaps he has failed." He turned to look at the two women.

Drusilla sat on the sofa, eyes closed, trying to see into the night. He face contorted due to her concentration. "He must come." Hands in her lap, she was playing with a white cotton handkerchief between her fingers, shredding the edges. Darla, sitting next to her, placed a hand over Drusilla's to stop the frantic motion. Drusilla cried out and opened her eyes. "Why can I not see where he is? The deadly fog hides him from me. All I see is blackness."

Darla smiled at her. "Better to lose him now than after you grow attached to him." She paused at Drusilla's pout. "Really, Drusilla, I jest. He will be back." Drusilla closed her eyes again searching for some clue to William's fate.

Angelus sat in the chair facing them. He took a long drink of his cognac and grimaced. Darla laughed. "You know, Angelus, you are supposed to sip that drink."

Angelus emptied the glass, managing not to grimace a second time. "Nonsense. Why would one sip alcohol?" He set the empty glass beside his chair.

Darla watched Dru begin to worry at the handkerchief again. "Why worry? The University is a long way; he might have had to spend the day somewhere."

They all turned as they heard the front doors open. Drusilla jumped off the couch. "Back from the crusades." Darla grabbed Dru by both arms before Dru could reach William, who stood in the drawing room doorway. He held a book in one arm and his overcoat, bunched up, in the other. William just barely beat the sunrise. He knew he had almost not made it home. The light began to show around the edges of the curtains.

Angelus walked to stand in front of him. He looked the boy up and down with a smirk firmly planted on his face. "So, you made it, boy. We had almost given you up for lost."

William held the book tighter against himself. He felt the demon rising in him at his anger. His eyes glowed yellow. "Was losing me your intent, Angelus?"

Angelus changed faces and grabbed William by the front of his shirt, causing him to drop the book and the coat, to pick him up and slam him against the wall. "I won't have your insolence, boy! What did you call me?"

His demon pushed back, he was engulfed by fear. William's voice was barely a whisper. "Sire. I got your book, Sire. History of the Crossbow." Angelus released his hold so quickly that William fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Angelus went to pick up the book but all William could think of was how he wished he were strong enough to fight back.

Drusilla knelt next to William. She put a hand up to his face. "Poor baby. I asked the moon where you were but she would not tell me."

Angelus took the book across the room and promptly flung it into the fire. He watched as it started to burn. William was shocked at this behavior. "What was that? Was it the wrong book?"

Angelus answered William without turning around. "No. It was the right book." He then turned to look at Darla. "Sun is up. Ready to go upstairs?" The two of them left for their room without another word.

Drusilla helped William stand after the others had gone. She let go of him with a wave of her arms. "The book was illusion." She twirled across the room, arms out wide around her. "It was the dance that mattered." She spun back the other way and came to a stop in front of William.

William grabbed her by the shoulders lightly and looked at her. "He wanted to show me I have to do what he says. That's all this was about. He never even wanted that book, did he?"

She pulled his hands off her shoulders and placed them on her waist. "Dance with me?"

He smiled at her warmly. "No music, pet."

She began to sway within the circle of his arms. "I always have music." She hummed for a moment and stopped to speak. "I can share it with you." She pulled him into a waltz, humming a tune she obviously knew well as he began to lead her around the room. One waltz became two, which became three. William could not remember ever having been happier.

He stopped dancing on a pass by the doorway. "Part of why I was so late arriving is that I was drawn to something. Would you like your present?" When she looked at him expectantly, he reached down to pick his coat up from the floor where it had fallen earlier. He handed it to her, feeling suddenly shy and awkward. "It isn't much."

She unwrapped the item from within the coat, tears coming to her eyes. A porcelain doll looked back up at her. She threw her arms around him, crying. "You found her. I have my Edith back. Thank you."
 
 

11. Lullaby

He woke in the late afternoon to the sound of her singing. He lay still just to listen to her for a while. She didn't sing very well at all but it was a beautiful sound to him. He pushed up in the bed and looked over at her. She sat at the table, Edith cradled in her arms. She sang a song he didn't recognize, rocking the doll gently.
 

"Sister thou wast mild and lovely
Gentle as the summer breeze
Pleasant as the air of ev'ning
As it floats among the trees
Peaceful be thy silent slumber
Peaceful in thy grave so low
Thou no more wilt join our number
Thou no more our song shall know"

He decided interrupting her might actually be a good idea when he realized just how melancholy this tune really was. "Love, why are you awake already?"

She shushed at the doll in her arms, one finger placed over her own lips, before answering him. "Miss Edith woke me to tell me about her dream. I was trying to put her back down to sleep but she still misses Mummy."

He thought about the portents Edith's dream. Did that mean Drusilla had another vision? He patted a hand next to him on the bed. "Why not come sit with me and tell me about her dream?"

Drusilla brought Miss Edith with her to the bed, sitting next to William with a sigh. She placed the doll carefully on the bed beside her with its head propped up by the pillow. She looked at the doll like a mother watching her child sleep. "I know you hoped it was the end of the tale but we shall see her again." She stroked the doll's hair with her fingers.

William had to ask, "Who will we see?"

Drusilla looked up to William's eyes. "Your possible catastrophe." She put a hand over his heart with a feather light touch. The next words came out hushed and sympathetic. "The one who put the pain in here and sent you to me."

She was right. He had been hoping he would never see Cecily again. Now, he was no longer so sure. After what he did to Gilford, he knew he would feel no guilt in letting Cecily be killed. If Drusilla wanted her, maybe he should let Drusilla have her. "When will we see her? Have you seen what will happen?"

Drusilla closed her eyes. "Worry not, sweet William. I no longer wish to hurt her. She shall hurt far more without my help. She will die but not die and not at any of our hands. Your part to play is still great. Not just one of them but all must fall. Only then can she see what she has put in motion." She picked the doll back up, rocking it in her arms once again. "Shhh, Miss Edith. Not to worry. I shall be your Mummy and William can be your Daddy. He will do what is right for us. No need to cry."

William, a bit unsure of what he was doing and why, gently took the doll to hold in the crook of his arm. He put the other arm around her shoulders. "What do you want to do tonight?"

Drusilla smiled broadly so that all her teeth showed. "I want someone delicious."

It took him some time to convince her the doll did not need to come downstairs with them that evening. His idea of leaving Miss Edith with the Nanny she quickly answered with the memory that Angelus had eaten the Nanny. He had dressed her in one of Drusilla's finest gowns and put ribbons in her hair, leaving her at her post, watching over the child with dead eyes.

Darla sat alone in the drawing room drinking a glass of wine, staring into the fire. William and Drusilla entered the room, her hanging on his arm. Drusilla looked at Darla and said, "Mummy would have said naughty girls should not look so closely at the fire. God would take their eyes away as penance."

Darla made an irritated sound in the back of her throat. "Your mother was a zealot with weak tasting blood and my eyes will heal."

Drusilla giggled like a child. "Rusted metal thorns, poking at me." She released William's arm and moved to the couch to sit next to Darla. "Where's our guardian Angel?"

Darla answered, "Dressing. He has big plans for tonight." She set the glass down on the sofa table.

Drusilla clapped her hands. "Oh. Is there a party? What shall we do?"

Darla grabbed Drusilla's hands in hers, effectively stopping the excited clapping. "Not we, Dru, they. The question to ask is what they will do."

Dru pouted. "They? But I want to play, too. Why do I have no invitation to the ball?"

Darla released Drusilla's hands. "You and I will find something to amuse us." She picked the glass back up and held it out toward Dru. "Start with some wine?"

William finally spoke. "Pardon me, but..." Angelus' hand clamped down on William's shoulder.

Angelus' voice boomed loud in the small room. "I'm sure two lovely ladies such as yourselves will have no trouble finding amusement for the night. The boy and I should be back before dawn comes." He released William's shoulder. "Ready, lad?"

William was decidedly nervous at the prospect of a whole night alone with Angelus and glanced at the women, wishing they were to come, as well. "Where are we going, Sire?"

Angelus let his face change and smiled around his fangs. "Hunting."
 
 

12. The Lesson

Dark alley after dark alley, dimly lit street after street, they walked across the town. They had started in the newer middle class area where there were many row houses, some of which looked just like their own home although within were held families very different from theirs. Then they passed through a neighborhood of larger buildings, partitioned into flats. At last, they came to a wealthier part of London, grand homes with land and tall iron fences. The fog hung thick in the air again, holding in any available light, keeping the number of people on the streets down. Nobody went out on a night like this if they had any excuse to stay home, which only made it a better night for a hunter. Moving about the city undetected was child's play on the night of a Fog.

William had followed Angelus for miles, wondering if there was really a destination or if getting him to follow blindly was the only plan. When they had been walking for well over an hour, he could hold his tongue no longer. He spoke, cringing inside at what the reaction to his speaking might be. "I was wondering, Sire. Where exactly are we headed? Is it too much further?" He subconsciously moved out of Angelus' arms reach just after saying it, just in case the older vampire was quick to anger just then.

Surprisingly, Angelus laughed in response to the question. "You must learn to have a little patience, boy. A truly good kill takes studying and planning. It takes time. I've had my eye on this particular family for months." They approached the gate of a well appointed home. Angelus quickly opened the gate and began walking up the path.

William was a bit confused. This made no sense. What about the rules? He remembered reading somewhere that there were rules for vampires. "Are we just to enter? I thought we needed an invitation."

Angelus led the bewildered childe around to the side of the house. "I never said we were going to walk in the front door. We go in that window." He pointed to the only window through which light was visible. "I have an invitation and will get one for you soon enough." He paused and grinned lasciviously. "Eldest daughter is a naïve little thing. All the more fun to break her."

Darla stood waiting while Drusilla picked the lock. The girl might be crazy but she was certainly not without her strengths. It hadn't taken them long to decide a night with Angelus away was the perfect time for some after hours "shopping." He said he preferred that they simply take whatever lovely things their dinners left behind. He could never understand why they wanted to rummage through the stores. The women, however, found their occasional excursions fun. Darla, anxious to get inside, was entirely willing to show her impatience. "Can you please hurry? I want to take my time inside and that will not happen if we are discovered too soon."

Drusilla wasn't listening but Darla didn't have to speak again. Dru finished soon after and the door opened with a pop. "It sounds like a Christmas Cracker." She walked through the open doorway with Darla on her heels.

Darla closed the door and locked it behind them in case a bobby came by and checked it. "I wonder where we should start." They didn't know that the shop's owner lived upstairs until they saw him coming down the steps. Darla smiled at the man. "I guess we start with you."

The sight before him was the most horrible thing he had ever seen. Angelus, mentioning how the girl's beauty did not reach beneath her skin, had flayed her and left her on her bed. A person really didn't look like a person anymore with no skin. If William had seen this a week previously, he would have certainly retched. As it was, he still found it a little disturbing even if it made him hunger deep inside. He watched Angelus cleaning and straightening the room until the only thing out of place was what lay on the bed. Angelus didn't seem disturbed by this at all; he seemed pleased. "Why not simply feed from her, Sire? Why do all this? It makes her no more dead."

Angelus chuckled. "Because, boy, this is art. The kill is about the art. Artists are immortal because their works are remembered. The art of the kill makes us doubly immortal, even if they never find out who did this, which they will not." He headed for the door. "Come, lad. There are three more children to deal with."

William couldn't stop himself. "Children? Why prey on those who cannot defend themselves? Wouldn't it be better to take on someone who could fight back?"

Angelus turned back to look at him. "Why? You just don't get it, do you, boy? You will learn to love it. You will learn to crave a good kill like this. Imagine his reaction when his entire family lies dead in his home. The father will be inconsolable. That, my boy, is the art. That is true beauty."

They made the journey home in complete silence. William had cuts and blood on him everyplace that was visible and some places that were not. Angelus had turned the knife on him when he had refused to take it to kill the infant. The bodies had all been arranged. The stage had been set. Angelus had left a note downstairs for the father. William had one thought about the whole night. He knew he was nothing like what Angelus wanted him to be.
 
 

13. So Much Blood in Him

The two women sat waiting on the drawing room sofa once again, the thick curtains already closed tight to guard against the approaching morning. The fireplace held no fire for once but the gaslights were burning on full open, creating a reasonable approximation of the daylight that was forbidden to them. They had had no time to make a fire since they had only just arrived home, laden with their parcels, moments earlier. Darla was watching Dru, whose eyes screwed closed in search. After a few minutes of this, she asked, "What can you see? The sun is almost up. Where are they?"

Drusilla's eyes fluttered open, blinking back tears. She looked at Darla with an expression of distress on her face. "I see only blood. His face is hidden from me again."

Darla sighed and relaxed against the back of the sofa. "Blood? That must be good. At least you see blood and not dust. Maybe they got distracted and needed to spend the day." She smiled. "Angelus tends to lose track of time when he creates. I remember, back when he was working on you, he was gone for three days once. He was quite exhausted when he got back." She smirked at Dru. "Of course, you should remember it since most of your family died over those three days."

Drusilla, who had stopped listening after the suggestion that they were likely spending the day away, stood up and moved toward the door. She closed her eyes and cocked her head, listening to the outside world. "No. Not distracted. They are here."

The front door opened and closed quietly. Angelus appeared in the drawing room doorway alone. Darla rose from the sofa to stand next to Dru. "Where is the childe, Angelus?"

Angelus called back over his shoulder into the foyer. "Come here, boy." William, on unsteady feet, walked to stand behind his Sire. He was still bleeding from earlier. Now, the blood had soaked through his clothing and completely obscured most of his face. Only his eyes, from which he had wiped the blood so he could see to walk, were visible. Drusilla gasped at the sight. Angelus shrugged. "Dru, take your defiant little brat upstairs and clean him up. He goes out with me again this evening."

She moved immediately to assist William, touching the biggest cut on his face gingerly, her fingers trembling. "My poor William. Your journey has not been an easy one so far. The bravest knights always have the most difficult battles."

Angelus yelled, "Stop speaking nonsense and get him out of my sight, Dru!" Drusilla did as she was told and attempted to hurry their way upstairs.

Darla and Angelus watched the slow, arduous ascension. Every few steps, his feet slipped on the stairs. She practically carried him after the first landing. When the two younger vampires were finally out of sight, Darla spoke. "What happened last night? He looks a bit roughened for his first hunting venture."

Angelus scoffed. "The childe merely ended up taking reluctantly what he should have given eagerly. Has some bizarre notion that the ones who cannot fight back are less fun. If he lives long at all, about which I still have my doubts, a slayer will end up killing him just because he itched for a good fight."

Darla smiled at him, leading him into the drawing room by one hand. "Maybe not."

He knew he looked like a dead man. For all intents and purposes he was a dead man. How, then could all the little wounds covering his body cause him so much anguish? Should the dead feel pain? He looked around the room. He lay on the bed alone, the blood from his clothing slowly seeping into the sheets. Dru had gotten him to their room and left again to get what she needed to help clean away the evidence of what had been done to him.

He looked down at himself. Angelus had done quite a lot of damage. What he couldn't seem to understand was why Angelus had done it. Torture, blood, those things he did indeed find himself craving, if only for revenge against those who had caused him pain in life. Torturing and killing an entire family, though not something he really wanted to do, was something he could still at least understand. Angelus was probably right about that much. It was the nature of the demon to kill. While part of him had recoiled in horror, part of him had been drawn to the sight of the blood flowing so freely.

Why, though, had Angelus turned on him so quickly? Yes, he had refused to kill the baby. Did that really show weakness, as Angelus kept telling him while the knife did its work? Maybe it showed strength, the desire to fight rather than freely kill. Maybe Angelus was the one who was weak. Hiding and killing those without defenses was a sign of his weakness. He wasn't just a demon; he was a bully given the powers of a demon. One day, William intended to show that bully who was really the strong one.

He woke when he felt the wet cloth on his face. He opened his eyes to see Drusilla smiling at him. Moving only his eyes, so she could work, he glanced at the chest next to the bed. She had brought back a pitcher of water, which sat in the washbasin, bandages, and new sheets, stacked next to the basin. Her touch, gentle as could be, wiped away the blood from his face. He looked back to her face. "Angelus is very angry with you. You disappointed him."

He felt the blood on his lips crack as he spoke. "He asked me to do what I was not prepared to do. It was a family, Dru. He butchered them all and left them arranged like statues for the father to find when he returned home. You have no idea what that was like, do you?"

She moved to rinse the cloth out. "I think I should plant jasmine in the garden so I can see it bloom. Do you like jasmine?" She paused for a minute, William's eye on her. "I found them all one at a time except for the day I came home from my Grand Mummy's. They sent me away for a few days after Uncle Roger." She closed he eyes. "It looked like a dinner party to welcome me home, except for the blood." She opened her eyes again to look at him. "Maybe you would prefer roses? Their smell is delightful."

He tried to sit up but her hand pressed him back down to the pillows. "You do know. You know because he did this to you."

She began unbuttoning his shirt. "Follow your plan and you will grow strong enough to fight him. Miss Edith told me, then we can all be together but he can no longer hurt us."
 
 

14. Eye of the Storm

The taste of blood was the first thing he noticed. He remembered; he must still have blood in his mouth from the beating he had received. No, wait, this blood was flowing and utterly divine. She was allowing him to feed from her own vein. No, that still wasn't quite right. She had coaxed him in his semi-sleepy state to feed from her rather than just allowing it to happen. That made her blood sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. Still, he forced himself to stop. "Dru, what?"

She had both her hands in his hair, trying to hold him against her neck. "Shhh. Strength you will surely need if you must travel again tonight."

He pulled back so he could see her face. "Thank you, love. No worries, then. I'll be fine."

She moved her hands from the back of his head to his cheeks, gently stroking the bones through the skin. "The stars speak of horrors untold if you leave with him again tonight."

Angelus paced across their room, a freshly full glass of whisky in his hand, wearing only his trousers. Darla sat at the dressing table brushing her hair, staring at the painting that hung where a mirror would normally be, and completely ignoring his tirade. Over a century of practice, and with how often he drank angry, it was a lot of practice, gave her the ability to hear nothing he said when she so chose. What she had said to him before he finished dressing had been what had started him drinking, making him forget about his half clothed state. He always resorted to drinking when she reminded him of her authority. The first two drinks went down his throat seconds after the glass was filled. The third stayed in the glass long enough for him grab the hand that brushed her hair with his free hand and ask again, "I asked, what did you say, again? I think I might have heard you wrong."

She wrenched her hand out of his grasp and resumed brushing. "He is not to go out with you again tonight. I think he learns well but you almost killed him permanently last night. You are too impatient with him." She stopped brushing and turned in her chair. "Let him go out with Dru tonight. She had a most disturbing vision of you two last night while we were out. I have no wish to see it come to pass. They can hunt alone. We can have the house to ourselves."

He smashed the glass down on the dressing table, breaking it into large pieces, one of which he held firm in his fist. Whisky ran over the edge of the table, pooling on the floor. "You told me to test him. You said he would pass or he would die."

She laughed at him. "Dying for stupidity would be one thing. Dying at your whim is another thing entirely. The boy is doing well. He completed his task with no questions. He even survived a night with you." She poked one finger up at his chest. "Leave him be for one night. Let him settle in to his new life. Take the time to calm yourself. Maybe he will learn from you faster once he feels more at home."

His fist moved quickly to hold the shard of glass against the pale skin just over the front of her dress. "You certain you want to spend the night alone with me?" A small drop of her blood trickled down between her breasts.

She gasped in pleasure. "Are you trying to threaten me?" She closed her eyes. "You know that won't work, lover. I like your pain." She moved so that the glass went deeper into her skin. "I sometimes think that you are the one who needs to be reminded just who is in control here." She looked at him sternly. "You are staying in with me tonight."

William drummed his fingers across his knees nervously. They had been waiting, he and Drusilla, in the drawing room for some time, dreading the heavy footfall of Angelus on the stairs. "Not to say that I'm looking forward to this evening but the wait is indeed excruciating. What could be keeping him? I would have thought he would be down to make me suffer first thing."

Drusilla danced slowly across the room with Miss Edith in her arms, looking oddly calm under the circumstances. "Everything is changing. The Queen put forth an edict that the King cannot oppose." She stopped dancing. "Your answer is coming."

William heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, treading too lightly to be Angelus. Perhaps, he thought, Darla would precede him down again this evening. He squared his shoulders, putting on a brave front. Instead, it was Nigel who finally came to the room. Drusilla asked, "They're not coming down tonight, are they?" William glanced at her in surprise before he looked to Nigel for the answer, hoping she would not be wrong.

Nigel cleared his throat. "Master Angelus and Mistress Darla would like to stay at home this evening. The carriage and I are at your disposal for the night."

William looked to Drusilla again, relief washing over his face in a wave. She crossed the room to stand before Nigel. "We will not need the carriage. A walk sounds lovely." She handed the doll to a bewildered manservant. "Take Miss Edith up to bed for me. No sweets before bed, no matter how much she begs. They always give her a bellyache." She reached out and pulled William toward the front door. "We shall have such fun tonight. The dark shivers with anticipation." They left quickly, leaving Nigel to look at Edith in confusion.

The walk to the rail yard was quick and pleasant, the air much clearer than it had been in days. The smell and sight of the fog had dissipated enough that the streetlights cast an almost happy glow across the city. They walked arm in arm toward the tracks. William asked, "Any of them will do?"

She shook her head. "Find a repaired area. Shiny and new so the rust will not diminish its strength." A hundred yards on, he found what he needed. He released her arm and bent over the track. He pulled the desired item out of the wood with very little effort and held it up so it glimmered in the moonlight. Drusilla's eyes sparkled upon seeing it. "A perfect spike. May I hold it?"
 
 

15. Guest of Honor

He was smiling broadly as they walked away from the train tracks. He fingered the spike where it lay in his overcoat pocket. They would soon pay for how they had treated him over the years. "Whom should we visit first, I wonder. Should I start with that dreadful Richard or save him for last?" He paused and his smile widened even more. "Perhaps I shall bring him along for the whole run and finish him off at the end."

She stopped him and leaned to whisper in his ear. "There is no first and no last. We shall have a party just for them."  She laughed wickedly. "Pretty pink party streamers I will make for you, my sweet." She wiggled her sharp fingernails through the air like claws. "They have already gathered themselves up for us; all we have to do is bring the guest of honor. Oh, but maybe we should bring her a tiara."

They stood at the gates of an imposing stone manor. It was still the most beautiful home he had ever seen. He had always dreamed that maybe one day Cecily would allow him to walk in that door to spend his evenings courting her. Without a doubt, he had been delusional then, at best. Now, the scenario that had run through his mind countless times was utterly impossible. Maybe it had never been remotely possible. He no longer cared. He glanced at the reason for his change of heart, who was standing next to him, peering through the gates at the flower garden near the front door.

Then, she was smelling the flowers, eyes closed and head raised, as their scent carried on the light breeze. "Magical, William. Pixies will fly over the flowers to collect their nectar at any moment, now." She opened her eyes and looked at the house. "This is where your heartache dwells."

William laced the fingers of his left hand in the swirling iron of the gate. "Yes. Cecily lives here."

She placed her hand over his softly. "No longer. She will never return here after tonight. Her reign as Queen over the hearts of London has ended." She opened the gate and walked toward the flowers. "I will make her a crown for her last night."

"I'll be all right, Mother. Lucinda only lives four houses away." She was putting a thick shawl around her shoulders.

Her mother looked up from her embroidery. "Not seemly for a girl of your stature to be out alone at night, though. You do so vex me, Cecily, dear." She set her work next to her on the sofa. "Even barring that, all the robberies and murders happening lately are incentive to stay in. Look at what happened to that sweet boy. William, was that his name? The bobbies found him dead not one block from the party where you spent the evening."

Cecily placed a hand on her mother's arm. "You worry too much. Besides, I have to go. My dearest friend in the world is getting married tomorrow. This is our last night to spend together."

Mother grunted her disapproval. "Girl from a family like that, getting married in such a rush. She should be ashamed of herself. I wouldn't be surprised if they had a child prematurely in about six months or so."

"Mother! Bite your tongue." Cecily removed her hand. "Lucinda and Jonathon are very much in love and deserve every bit of happiness. Neither they nor their future children deserve all the gossip."

Her mother reached out to hug her. "Forgive me, dear. You're right. It was unfair of me. Just promise me that you will be careful."

Cecily answered, "I promise, Mum."

Cecily came down the path from the front door. He was so accustomed to seeing her in fancy dress that he almost didn't recognize her in her everyday clothes. A plain blue cotton dress and white shawl made her look so young, so innocent. He saw her jump a bit when Drusilla stepped out of the flowers into her path. "Oh." She breathed heavily. "You startled me, miss. If you are here to see my mother about the position, go on up to the door. She's expecting you." She attempted to walk past Dru. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Drusilla, fast as lightning, grabbed Cecily by one wrist before she could walk away. "Not here for work." She brought out the wreath of flowers she had been holding behind her back and placed it atop Cecily's chestnut ringlets. "Not too many flowers blooming just now but it suits you."

Cecily tried to pull her arm out of Drusilla's deceptively frail hand. She could not break the hold. "Let go of me. What do you want?"

Drusilla's smile caused visible shudders to run over Cecily. "My boy needs to show you something. Come to a party with us?"

Cecily managed, at last, to get her arm free. "Are you insane? I don't even know you."

Drusilla reached out to play with a curl that rested on the side of Cecily's face. "You will always remember me and you already know him."

At that, William stepped out of the bushes to stand by the two women. Cecily gulped audibly before stuttering, "C...can't be. You're dead."
 
 

16. Spike

The room was in a shambles. If it were breakable, he probably had broken it. The only thing standing largely intact was the bed, in which they now lazed. Angelus, his ubiquitous drink in hand, leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. Darla leaned against his shoulder and grabbed the drink from him. She took a sip, shivered in disgust, and handed the glass back. "After all these years, I still cannot fathom how you drink that. Give me a good glass of wine any day but whiskey turns my stomach."

He drank the rest of the liquid in one swallow and put the glass on the floor since the nightstand was in pieces. "Feeling better now, I see. Drusilla's little vision seems less important?"

She pulled away from him when he tried to put his arms around her. She pulled her robe from the floor then paused. "It's still coming. Her vision merely showed me the veracity of my own thoughts on the matter." She stood and put on the robe. "I hope we have put it off for some time by giving him some freedom but it will come to a fight between you two at some point, of that I am certain."

They left the residential districts and moved into an area filled with brothels and taverns. William wondered where Drusilla was leading them. What kind of a party could she mean to throw? Drusilla gripped Cecily's arm firmly, pulling her along as they went. He saw Cecily look to him several times, as if pleading for his help. He ignored her and focused instead on the back of Drusilla's raven head.

Cecily's silent pleas turned to vocal ones when they reached a very bad portion of town. "Please, William. Lucinda was waiting for me and must be so worried. Why bring me here? Please, let me go."

Drusilla moved to where Cecily could see her face and stopped walking. "Naughty girl, trying to work my William against me." She grinned. "Won't work. He knows what you must see to move to your next plane. You will learn to serve it hot or cold, although cold is often best."

Cecily's eyes widened in confusion. "Serve what?"

At Drusilla's urging, William tied Cecily's hands behind her back while Drusilla laughed. "Yours will be the work of angels, a wrath most appealing." The gag placed in Cecily's open mouth silenced any further question.

Five well-dressed men sat at the table, laughter ringing loud in the small tavern. They were the only patrons there that night, having paid a heftier sum than the owner normally saw in a month of business in order to have their private party. The reason for the party was already three sheets to the wind, barely able to keep himself upright in his chair. One of his mates, a red headed fellow named Edward, noticed Jonathon weaving in his seat. "Watch it, boys. I think the groom is going to become sick."

Jonathon righted himself and took deep breaths until the color returned to his cheeks. "Not just yet. I think I need another pint for that to happen." Everyone at the table laughed again.

Patrick, the oldest in the group, pounded a fist on the table. "Barmaid! Another round of stout."

Jonathon spoke to the man sitting next to him. "James, can you help me with this next drink? I don't seem able to lift my arms." This peal of laughter came out even louder than the rest.

Richard, always impatient, asked, "Where is that barmaid?" The thud on the table in front of him was greeted by silence from the entire group. None could believe their own eyes. Blood, seeping out of the barmaid's jaggedly severed head, ran over the table and onto Richard's lap. He jumped out of the chair to avoid it.

All their heads turned toward the bar at the sound of childlike giggles. "Silly girl lost her head over you. Her cards counted out such romance." Drusilla pushed the bound and gagged Cecily to a sitting position atop the prone corpse of the bar's owner. "Boxed seats for the lady for a premiere. Aren't you the lucky one?" The tears running down her face accompanied Cecily's muffled cries.

Richard finally found his voice again, even though it came out strangled and small. "Cecily? Let her go."

A large snapping noise came from the table. All eyes left Cecily and turned to the newcomer. He stood behind Jonathon, whose corpse slid to the ground, neck broken. "Feeling brave tonight, Richard? Just how hard will you fight to spare her?"

Drusilla moved to stand next to William, eyes shining with delight. "I know this is your party but I want the red one, please?" Edward started to quake.

William ran a hand through Drusilla's hair. "Of course, pet. I only want him." He gestured absentmindedly at Richard. "First, we need to rid ourselves of the excess." The screaming started as both of their demons came to the front.

Patrick and James, disposed of in much the same way as Jonathon, joined the growing number of bodies on the floor. Edward attempted to flee to no avail. Drusilla caught him and sank her fangs into his neck with a feral growl.

Richard spared one last look at Cecily, as if deciding whether or not to attempt a rescue, before running for the door. William caught him by the hair just before his outstretched hand could reach the handle. "I guess you're not so brave, after all."

Richard lost his footing and fell to the ground only to be dragged by the hair back to the chair he had vacated. William pressed him into the seat. "Now, stay there like a good boy." William spoke to Drusilla. "Pet, see if there are some knives behind the bar, would you? I need something to keep him still."

She dropped the body and ran to the bar. There were knives sitting on the counter next to the bread. She wiped them off on her skirt on the way back to the table. She held them up to the light. "Oh. They sparkle." She held them out for William.

He took one and placed Richard's hand flat against the table. The knife sunk through the hand and into the table, pinning the hand in place. Richard screamed. "Bloody Hell!"

William clucked his tongue at the quivering man. "Such vulgar words for you, Richard. You usually try so hard to appear the gentleman." The second knife pinned Richard's other hand in the same manner. William pulled the spike out of his pocket so that Richard could see it. "I seem to remember you stating a preference with regards to my poetry not too long ago. What was it?"

Richard cried. "Please, let me go."

William laughed. "No. That was definitely not what you said. Let us see if we can remind you." He held the end of the spike against Richard's ear. "Should I recite something for you?"

Richard pleaded again. "Don't do this, please, William."

William was uncaring. "My saying 'please don't' never stopped you, did it?" He shoved the spike home with a wide smile. "There, now. I feel better. Don't you?" He pulled the spike back out and turned to Drusilla to show it to her. "I think I like this new toy."

She put her arms around him and lay her head against his chest. "Naughty William," she said with a smile. "My naughty, wicked, Spike. How do you feel?"

He pulled her face up to meet his. "I feel marvelous, pet. I feel bloody marvelous."

TBC in the sequel, "A Master Himself", wherein the power struggle between Angelus and William aka Spike heats up. I'm also writing a side story, "Born Into Vengeance" wherein we get a glimpse of what happened to Cecily after that night.

- Deathtramp