North London, England

31 December 1799

Angelus idly watched the ebb and flow of the chaos that surrounded him on this eve of a New Year, and a new Centennial. Having fed early and well, the vampire was content to merely observe. Before him, in the middle of the square, were the makings of a large bonfire, yet to be lit. The pile of wood and debris had been steadily growing all afternoon. It had taken on the shape of a large, unstable structure, as people brought any and all manner of items to feed the flames. Broken pieces of chairs, tables, closets, beds , doors, and the like, teetered on top of one another in anticipation of this moment.

The crowd had been gathering throughout the late afternoon and evening. The celebrating had begun early and the crowd swayed with an unsteady, drunken rhythm. Songs were sung, and commoner and gentry, alike, proposed toasts to God, King, and Country. Wishing one another well in the coming New Year. The sun had since set, taking the patience of the crowd with it. They were drunk, cold and they wanted the fire. A hush fell over the throng as three young boys finally approached the wood, torches in hand. The gathering strained forward, seemingly with held breath, as the first flames flickered. As the fire caught and began to hungrily consume the offerings, the throng roared its approval. Though it was only one of hundreds of such bonfires throughout the city, the crowd's delight was no less diminished. This fire was theirs, to ward off the dark and the chill of this uncertain night. Now, the celebration could really begin.

For the last year, there had been those that had pointed to the growing social unrest, political upheavals, and wars that rocked the world, and preached that the Apocalypse would come this night. Personally, Angelus had some doubts but, no lack of time. So, he waited. Waited, and watched the antics of the celebrants. Rings of people had formed around the bonfire, and they'd begun a merry dance around the pyre. Angelus smiled. In the light of the climbing, dancing flames the humans appeared to writhe. A snippet of an old song drifted through the vampire's mind.

Ring around the Roses, Pockets full of Posies, Ashes, Ashes. . .

If nothing else, Angelus thought pleasantly, this night would at least have the appearance of Hell on earth.

A quick movement caught Angelus' eye and he tracked the source. A small pickpocket, of indeterminable age and sex, worked the crowd, darting through the legs of the drunk and unwary. As the vampire watched, the urchin made its way to a group of youths. The tiny thief held out its bounty of a stolen purse and two fobs to the tallest of the group, and that youth took the offering with a quick, affectionate grin. Ruffling the little one's hair, the young man sent the little pickpocket off. Pride puffing out its chest, the small thief melted back into the crowd.

Angelus' attention returned to the young man who obviously commanded this group. Whip lean, with dark, coarse hair that waved back from a high, wide forehead, the light of the fire reflecting against smooth, pale skin, casting the young man's chiseled features in stark relief and highlighting the startlingly blue-gray eyes. Angelus had always had an eye for beauty and this human was a truly beautiful young man.

Continuing his observations, Angelus was increasingly, grudgingly, impressed with the young man's leadership of this little group of petty cutpurses. The tall, lean youth engaged his fellows in an easy camaraderie, dealing out quick, rewarding smiles and, as occasion merited, even quicker, punishing blows. The human's actions and the twinkling in his eyes, bespoke of a lively mind, rare among the street kind.

Cleaned up, Angelus mused, the young man could pass for nobility. There was something aristocratic, not only in his features, but in the graceful, easy, way he held himself. Angelus snorted at the direction his thoughts had taken. The youth was just one of hundreds of street urchins that the whores of London birthed. He might, possibly, be the by-blow of some lord, but, he was a gutter rat all the same. King Gutter Rat, chuckled Angelus.

As though he felt the vampire's eyes upon him, the young man suddenly looked towards Angelus, light eyes meeting a dark gaze. Something flickered in the human's eyes. Angelus held himself very still and returned the man's questioning look. What do you see in me, Human? Angelus thought. Your next treat? Your next trick? ...Your fate?

"Will!"

The young man swung to greet the newcomers, breaking his contact with Angelus. The vampire frowned, missing the aborted connection more than he liked to admit. Will. Angelus rolled the name around his mind before speaking it softly to the night. "Will." Yes, Angelus mused. The name suited the man.

Angelus settled back and watched the groups merge. Boisterously greeting one another, the youths grappled and wrestled in good humored affection. Wishes for a happy New Year clouded the chill air before them as, clapping one another on the back, they began to swap tales of the night's take. Angelus listened to the youths regale one another with their prowess. The vampire chuckled as, in each successive tale, the purses grew heavier, the fobs shined brighter and the buckles and snuff boxes glittered with the ransoms of kings. It was, of course, the sad duty of each storyteller to relate to his listeners that, though the attempt had been heroic, the prize had escaped. The laughter grew louder as each of the boys tried to out do the last. Angelus found himself focusing more and more on Will's responses. The way Will listened, cocking his head, his eyes hooded, his expression guarded, until, he laughed. Angelus unconsciously grinned in response to every sharp bark of laughter that would burst from Will's lips. Noticing how the young man's face would light up with his laughter.

Will was the last storyteller. The group hushed, and leaned close to hear what tale Will would tell. At first, Will demurred. No, he had no story, no exploit to share. The surrounding boys hooted, pressing for Will's story. Will smiled and shaking his head, began a meticulous study the fingernails of his left hand.

"Come on Will!"

"Don't be shy, Mate!"

"Lookit that, Charlie! I think 'e's blushin'."

Though the calls and teasing continued, Will only smiled in response. Finally, the group's attention fully caught, Will looked up. Moving his gaze to meet the eyes of each and every member of the group before him, Will began to speak. The leader kept his voice quiet, forcing his audience to listen. The youths hushed and leaned forward to catch Will's words. Angelus, though able to hear Will's soft voice without any difficulty, leaned closer as well.

"Well," began Will. "I was walking past the Gardens, moving amongst the gentry, like, and studying my chances. " The boys nodded with approval. The season was over, and these were usually lean times for them. However, much of the ton had returned to town to celebrate the Centennial and the gentry were out in droves, parading themselves before their peers. The New Year celebrations had, happily, made the pickings much sweeter.

"It's early, but it's crowded. The flash coves are out, so's the whores - them 'dem-e-mond.'" Will carefully sounded out the foreign word. "Them that sees me, get extra careful about their possessions. So, I walk on, like I ain't interested in anything they got on 'em. I keep my 'ead up. Making 'em notice me, making 'em real insecure." The audience chuckled, enjoying Will's dangerous game.

"I come 'round this corner and it's all dark, like, but, up ahead, I see this girl. All alone. I figure she's waiting for 'er bloke. But," Will shakes his head. "She ain't no whore, this one. She's gentry, from tip to toes. And, she's a real looker. A little thing," Will vaguely waved a hand mid way on his chest. "And, she's got a body like. . ." Will sketched the girl's figure in the air before him, eliciting coarse comments and whistles from his audience.

"So, I go up to 'er and ask 'er - You lost, Miss? - and she just looks at me with these big, blue eyes and shakes 'er 'ead." Will, now immersed in his story, began to act out the scene. Pretending to be the lone girl, he widened his eyes and stepped back, shaking his head. Becoming himself again, Will continued.

"You shouldn't be out 'ere by yourself, Miss. It's not safe." The audience laughed again and Will paused to grin with them. Angelus grinned as well, it was quite obvious where this tale was leading, but it was entertaining to watch as Will lead the more gullible along the path.

"So," Will continued. "She tells me that 'er escort," Will rolled his eyes in disgust and proceeded to mimic the high, lisping tones of a society lady "...will be along shortly. So, you, Boy, need not tarry."

The youths laughed delightedly, not only at Will's portrayal of the girl, but of his dismissal at her hands.

"That..." Will paused, a smirk playing across his lips as he waited for the groups attention to settle back on him. ". . .is when I see the sparkler." The audience hushed again, eyes widening as they took in Will's words.

"Diamonds and rubies. As big as my thumb," Will held up his thumb for all to see. "A choker, with these long strands of gems just dripping offa it. And, I think to myself - Will. You get yourself that gee-gaw and you can retire."

The youths surrounding Will sighed, their heads full of dreams. All of the street kids dreamed the same golden dream. One day, the picking would be so sweet, that they would be able to retire from the street. Have a proper place to sleep, proper clothes to wear and never, ever go without food again. It was the sort of dream you held onto, tightly, when your stomach cramped from hunger, there was no more gin to stop the pain, and you couldn't stop the shivering.

"She sees me eyeing the sparkler and gets all scared, like." Will grasped his neck and staggered back as though threatened, before resuming his own relaxed pose. "But, I play it quick. I don't want 'er calling out, so I grab 'er and put my 'and over 'er mouth. 'Look 'ere,' I tell 'er. 'You give me that pretty bit and I let you go back to your 'escort' un'armed.' It was a damn fine offer." Will appealed to the group and they nodded and murmured in response, all agreeing that it was very decent of him to make such an offer to the girl. More than she deserved, really.

"But," Will's tone became disgusted. "She starts crying. And, I ask 'er - What the 'ell are you crying about? I'm not going to bleeding kill you. Just give me the sodding necklace and you walk away. - Then she starts talking, but I can't understand anything, 'cause I've got my 'and over 'er mouth, right? So, I move my 'and a little and let 'er talk. She doesn't want me to take the bleeding thing. It's a family 'eir-loom." Will drew out the word in mocking tones. "Passed down from generation to generation." Will snorted in derision and his audience joined him, loudly expressing their disgust for the gentry. "Fine - I say, - And, now, you're passing it on to me!" Will's audience guffawed approvingly at his fine wit. Angelus just shook his head. If there was a shred of truth to this tale. . .Will should never have allowed the girl to talk. He should have just taken the necklace and, if the girl made it necessary, broken her pretty little neck in the process.

"Please, please," Will took up the girl's voice and actions once again. "I'll do anything you ask, just don't take my necklace."

Will leered at the boys pressed around him. "Anything?" He continued the pantomime of his conversation with the girl. "Anything!" Will cocked his head, performing his serious consideration of the girl's promise for the benefit of his friends. Will gave his audience, and the girl in the story, a quick, flashing smile.

"So, I agreed and the deal was done. I got what I wanted, she got what she wanted and I came on 'ome." Will nodded thoughtfully to himself as he abruptly finished the story.

The audience, left hanging, stood quietly for a moment, sorting though Will's words for something that had been missed. There was a sudden explosion of voices, as they all reached the same conclusion.

"What?!"

"What did ya get Will?!"

"Will?!"

"What?" Will glanced about his friends absently, as though his mind remained on the darkened path with the girl. "Oh. Well, what do you bloody idiots think I did?" Will nonchalantly shrugged, "I bent 'er over an 'edge, tossed up 'er skirts and shagged 'er senseless, of course!"

As the youths howled and clapped their appreciation, Angelus settled back and grinned. It had been a good story. By far the best lie of the night.

The dark night exploded with light and color causing Angelus to shield his sensitive eyes against the brief glare. To the south, high above the roofs of London, fireworks lit the sky. The crowded square erupted into cheers as the New Year was born. It was 1800, and the earth still turned.

Angelus watched the youths revel in their community, their companionship and their ties. Each wished the other the best of the new century, and may they each and every one pick the sweet fruit that would give them comfort and ease.

Will again turned to glance at the dark man leaning against the wall. In a simple moment of human graciousness, he nodded to the stranger, including Angelus in the feeling of goodwill that filled the square. That simple gesture, more than any other, separated Angelus from everything around him. In that moment, he'd never felt more alone.

For the vampire, these celebrations of time had little meaning. Its humanity was capable of measuring the distance that time had crossed, its demon didn't care

As the groups separated and moved on to take advantage of the remainder of the night, Angelus discreetly followed. Blending into the dark, he shadowed Will's group, continuing his observation of the young man.

It was time to seek the companionship of another. Long past time. He'd been alone ever since Darla . . .

Angelus' expression darkened and those unlucky enough to catch a glimpse of the tall, dark vampire's features quickly scurried out of the way. Darla. "Bitch," he hissed. His Sire, his lover, his sun, his moon, his very reason for being. For Darla, he would have done anything, everything. Nearly fifty years ago, he had died for her and since then he'd existed only for her, but, she had discarded him, rejected him, cast him out.

In hindsight, Angelus knew that his Sire's cruel abandonment had not been sudden. For some years, he had felt the growing restlessness in Darla, but had dismissed it. Darla had always bored easily. Every time Darla seemed to tire of the life they led, Angelus had fought against her ennui, engineering new, and various diversions to please her. His tricks would work, for a while, then Darla would grow bored again. Often, in the past, when she had become restless they had simply moved on. A change of environment would, sometimes, be enough. This time had been different.

Darla had contacts amongst the nobility of Europe that allowed her to live in the sort of luxury to which she had accustomed herself, and her fledglings. In this instance, they had accepted an invitation to join the winter court of Christian VII, Denmark's "Mad Monarch," in Hørsholm.

Christian's court was not as merry as it had been in time's past. Christian was a wastrel, a trouble-maker, a madman prone to epileptic fits and Angelus had generally thought him good for a laugh. Many a night he'd gone carousing with the young King, only to find himself watching, laughing uproariously, as His Drunken Majesty picked fights with the sturdiest of Copenhagen's night-watchmen. But, those times were gone.

Under the care of his physician, the Count Struensee, the King's illness had been managed. But, in his control of the King, and, as some saw it, the throne, Struensee had quickly earned the distrust of the court, the derision of the populace. . .and the love of a young, lonely, Queen. Within a year, Her Majesty, Caroline Mathilde, had borne a daughter, whom the people called "The Little Struensee." Since Angelus' last visit to Denmark, Juliane Marie, the Queen Mother and the King's brother, Prince Frederick, had engineered a little coup. Struensee had been executed for treason, their Majesties' divorced and Caroline Mathilde stripped of everything, including her children, was exiled at the age of twenty-one, dead at twenty-six.

The entire affair was just one of many pageants of tragedy that Angelus had witnessed in his 45 plus years of vampiric existence. On the subject of human suffering, Angelus had a personal philosophy, and that was that there were two basic categories of humans: Those that needed hell created for them and those that created their own hell. Angelus took great delight in helping the former find their way. But, there was a special pleasure in just sitting back, observing, and learning from the humans of the latter category. It amused him to no end to note that he most often had the luxury of simple observation when he traveled within the higher strata of society with his Sire. Those who did not suffer from the lack of life's necessities, found other ways to suffer. The Devil found uses for idle hands, but, in this time of new social equalities, Angelus found uses for the others.

However, while Angelus found little at court to keep him fully engaged, Darla seemed to glow with a new found energy. He'd lulled himself into believing that Darla was merely enjoying a change of scenery, catching up with old acquaintances, hunting the long Danish winter nights. He'd never for one moment thought that his position with his love was threatened.

In all the time they had been together Darla had never looked to another human as a possible fledgling. Until the girl. Angelus' eyes narrowed in memory. Sophia Amalie, the youngest daughter of the Count of Sonderborg. Cousin to a king, Sophia's path should never have crossed Darla's, but it had, and Darla had been instantly intrigued. Smitten, thought Angelus with disgust. The little bitch had waved her hot little tail in his Sire's face and Darla had run after her, in a panting heat. And, when Darla announced her intention to make Sophia her new fledgling, replacing Angelus, he'd felt a jealous rage so black he couldn't see. When he'd come to his senses, it was to the sound of Darla laughing. Laughing at him. Angelus had stormed from their chambers. His horse saddled, he'd ridden hard, south on the Kings Road, to hunt the streets of Copenhagen. Once in the capital, he hadn't fed, but he had left a wide, bloody trail in his wake. As he snapped the neck of a young girl about the same age and build of the fair Sophia, a plan had formed.

Returning to Hørsholm as quickly as he was able, Angelus made his way to the Sonderborg chambers. It was quite simple. He'd kill the little bitch, drain her, and leave her for Darla to find. Darla's wrath would be swift and brutal. He'd suffer unimaginable agony at her hands, his Sire might even destroy him, as was her right. But, at least her attention would be refocused on him, where it belonged.

Reaching the chamber door, Angelus had paused outside, listening, his eyes widening in surprise. From the sound of things, her Ladyship was not alone. Curious, Angelus quietly pushed open the door and peered inside - only to meet the amused eyes of his Sire.

The young aristocrat was tied to her bed, spread-eagle and blind folded. Darla lay, like a contented cat, between the moaning girl's legs. His Sire had already brought the girl to a fevered pitch and the heady arousal of both filled Angelus' senses, causing him to harden, painfully and against his will. Both women were nude and Angelus could not help but to step farther into the room and closely admire the contrasts between the two as lit by the fire's glow.

Predator and prey, thought Angelus. Darla, his golden lioness, golden-haired and, in the flicker of the flames, her pale skin had a golden hue. Sophia, the dark hind, her hair as black as a raven's wing, her skin paler than even his Sire's. She would indeed make a beautiful vampire. Angelus' hatred for the girl increased.

Darla kept her eyes on her progeny as she licked and caressed the girl beneath her. One hand gently manipulated Sophia's sex. Her thumb strumming the girl's clit, while two fingers kept a concentrated rhythm in and out of the little cunt. The other hand idly ran over a smooth, pale thigh, tracing lazy patterns that Darla's tongue then followed

Feeling the trembling girl reach her breaking point, Darla finally spoke.

"Fly, little Fledgling. You're free."

To the ears of the whimpering girl Darla's words were a gentle invitation to let go of any remaining control. Sophia's hips bucked off the bed, heaving, as she cried out her ecstatic release. Darla smiled, but her unwavering gaze remained locked on Angelus. Though her voice may have been gentle, her face was not. Cold, cruel eyes taunted Angelus, the words "fly" and "free" twisted his Sire's lips into a harsh sneer. With a single look, Darla berated him for his jealousy and dismissed him for his foolishness. Conceding, obeying, Angelus bowed to his cruel mistress, turned and walked out the door.

As he entered the hall, Angelus encountered Sophia's father. Angelus thought that breaking the old man in two might help ease some of the terrible fury he felt. Angelus thought again. With a look of grave concern, Angelus bowed and quietly addressed the old Count. "Your daughter requires your assistance, my Lord."

With barely a look in the vampire's direction, the haughty old man swept past Angelus and into his daughter's room. Continuing on his way, Angelus' lips curled in a smile of satisfaction as the parental cries of outrage ended in a gurgle and a girl's screams filled the hall.

That had been a little over a year ago. Leaving Denmark, leaving Darla, he had traveled across Europe. Feeding on the spoils of the war-torn continent. He'd considered going on to Ireland, going "home," but once in London the urge had passed. There was nothing in Galway for him anymore. London was where the excitement was. There was no better city on earth to celebrate the birth of the next hundred years. And, if the Apocalypse were to come, London would have the best view.

Angelus refocused on the present. Now he stood contemplating the next step in his evolution as a vampire. Fledgling to Sire. Angelus' lips curved in a deadly imitation of a smile that did not reach his eyes. Will would make a fine companion. The dark-haired, light-eyed, young man suited Angelus perfectly. Beautiful, intelligent and capable of ruthlessness, all the qualities that Angelus desired. A leader in his own right, Will would be a challenge to dominate, but, if Angelus' succeeded, he'd be worth it. Not that Angelus doubted his ability to tame the man. His decision made, the hunt was on.

Angelus tracked his prey near the entrance of a darkened street and put a quick plan into motion. Causally approaching the group, coolly ignoring the snickering, smirking boys, he gave Will an obvious look of interest. With a bored look and a short nod, Will gave Angelus the affirmation the vampire desired. The price was agreed on, the assignation was set. Each had sprung their trap. They would meet in the alley.

Angelus surveyed the passageway with grim satisfaction. It was as good a place as any to become a sire. Leaning back into a darkened doorway, Angelus waited, feeling himself grow hard and heavy in anticipation of what was to come. He did not have to wait long. As Will came into the alley, striding past the vampire's hiding spot, Angelus reached out and pulled him into an crushing embrace. Quieting any alarm the young man might have given his cronies, Angelus crushed his mouth to Will's. The vampire kissed the human, deeply, as though to draw the man's breath from his body. Will's reaction both surprised and delighted Angelus. For the briefest of moments Angelus felt the young man respond, pressing back against Angelus with a hunger to match the vampire's, fighting for the dominance he would not easily cede.

With a snarl, Will broke the kiss and Angelus felt a stinging pain in his abdomen. Looking down, Angelus confirmed that he had, indeed, felt the tip of Will's blade piercing his skin.

"Your purse for your life and we'll call it a night," Will whispered tightly.

Angelus smiled, and as he again raised his head to look into Will's eyes, the demon was in place.

"Your soul for immortality and we'll call it a life."

Will's eyes widened at the vampire's visage. Angelus saw a brief flash of shock, then Will surprised him again. Will began to laugh.

"You the Devil?" Will chuckled, his voice and expression now betraying only wonderment. "You come for me?"

If Angelus had had a moment's doubt about Will, it was erased.

"I've come for you." Angelus affirmed in a silky whisper. Stepping back, Angelus opening his arms wide and smiled at Will. "Come to me...my son."

Like a puppet on an ill-managed string, Will took a jerky step forward, the knife dropping, his eyes focused on Angelus'. A clouded look crossed the young man's face as he stopped, shaking his head as though to clear it. But, Angelus was far too eager for what was to come to wait for Will to take the final step on his own. In a movement that defied human vision, the vampire leapt forward and grabbed the young human, pulling Will into his embrace, the momentum carrying them back into the shadowy doorway.

Slanting his mouth across Will's, Angelus again drank from the young man's breath. This time Will was too stunned to respond. Tearing his mouth away, Angelus drew back, looked into the dazed youth's eyes, and smiled an awful smile.

"What really happened with the girl?" Angelus demanded.

"Wha...?"

"The girl in the Gardens? Does she even exist?"

Will tried to clear his head, dazed by the vampire's attack and now his questioning.

"She smelled good," he finally managed to whisper. "I stole a kiss. She slapped me and ran away."

Angelus chuckled and tilting Will's head back, he bared the young man's neck and throat. With a groan, laughter forgotten, the vampire licked the side of Will's neck in a sensuous, lingering motion, teasing himself, testing his strength of will. Then, piercing flesh with fang, Angelus began to drink, throat muscles convulsing as Will's strong heart readily pumped his blood down the vampire's throat.

Will silently shook in Angelus' arms as his life was drained away. He cried out only once, as Angelus, in his eagerness for the young man's blood, tore the flesh of Will's neck. It was the last sound the young human would make.

Tearing himself away from the rich taste of the human's blood, Angelus yanked open his shirt and, with a fingernail, sliced open the skin above his heart. Pressing Will's mouth against the wound, he crooned to the dying man in a grotesque imitation of a lullaby.

Angelus waited for the stirrings of a new life in his arms. Time seemed to stretch out interminably. Will was the first he'd attempted to turn, had he done it incorrectly? Angelus tightened his grip on the limp body in his embrace. Had he lost the man? Angelus shook the body that he held against himself. Come on, come on, come on, he chanted to himself.

"Damn you! Drink!" Angelus demanded, his voice guttural with apprehension. Will was his, he'd marked him so and he would not lose him now.

Angelus felt a hesitant lick at the blood welling in the wound on his chest, then another. Will stirred and began to suck greedily at his Sire's blood, causing Angelus to throw back his head and howl his satisfaction to the heavens.

Throughout darkened streets, dogs raised their heads and howled in response. Will's own pack of friends fled in terror. Others that heard the vampire's cry, started in their beds or from their tables. As the howling intensified, they believed, as one, that the gates of hell had, indeed, opened and the end of the world was upon them. While a few would be found in the morning, dead from fright, the rest dropped to their knees, heads bowed, sobbing, frantically searching their memories for the words.

"Bless me, Father. . ."

Angelus carried the limp body of his newly made fledgling through the streets of London, back to his rooms. No one who saw them attempted to interfere.

Setting his burden down on the rug before the hearth, Angelus built a small fire before stripping the fledgling of his tattered clothes. The body that was exposed brought a new aching to Angelus loins. Tracing the hard, lean muscles of Will's chest, arms abdomen and legs, Angelus delighted anew in his discovery. Though eager to take possession of his progeny, Angelus forced himself to wait. He wanted Will to be awake. Soon, he promised himself, soon. It would be several hours before Will would truly awaken and Angelus had much to prepare.

Ordering a sleepy chambermaid to bring several buckets of hot water to his room, Angelus slipped out of all but his tight wool trousers. He cleaned first himself, then Will. It would take several baths before the years of accumulated street grime washed away completely, but Will was now clean enough to be put to bed. Turning back the bed covers, Angelus gently placed the body of his fledgling between the sheets. Covering the still body, Angelus prepared the chamber for day.

Angelus' drew heavy, dark curtains against what little sunlight that managed to work its way into the rooms. He had chosen this particular suite of rooms with daylight in mind. The rooms faced north and the neighboring building, not only blocked any view that might have been, blocked much of the light as well. The landlord had been surprised at Angelus' insistence on leasing the suite but had asked no questions. There was also an advantage in that no one else lived on this side of the building. Angelus enjoyed his space.

Shedding his trousers, Angelus padded through the darkened rooms, toward the fire and stoked the flames, not against the cold, but for the light. Angelus pulled the cork from a bottle on the side table and poured a glass of its contents. A bottle or two was delivered daily, without questions, a goodly sum paying for silence. Angelus enjoyed the hunt, enjoyed the life's blood of his victims as it gushed forth freely. However, having a back-up bottle for day had been a trick he'd learned from Darla. A trick that had saved him on several occasions. Now, the order was a habit.

Re-corking the bottle, Angelus picked it up along with his glass, and made his way back to the bed. Setting both on the table beside the bed, Angelus settled down, against Will, and waited for his fledgling to awaken.

It was, in Angelus' estimation, close to noon when Will awoke. Angelus watched as his fledgling opened his eyes for the first time, smiling with welcoming pleasure into the questioning blue gaze of his progeny.

Turning to the bedside table and reclaiming his glass, Angelus drank deeply before moving back to settle himself over Will. Capturing the fledgling's head between his large hands, Angelus gently brushed his lips across Will's. The demon overcoming him, Will responded, with more hunger than he'd yet shown as he scented the blood behind Angelus' closed lips. Opening his mouth under his Sire's, Will attempted to worm his tongue into Angelus' mouth and suck at the treat inside. Angelus withheld the blood, demanding that Will work for what he wanted. Will entreated his Sire, licking, nibbling and sucking at the older vampire's full lips. Angelus rewarded his progeny by opening his mouth slightly and letting a little of the blood he held, trickle into Will's mouth. Jerking up and against Angelus in a desperate excitement, Will's arms circled to embrace his Sire and draw him closer. Angelus grinned at his fledgling's eager response. Settling between Will's legs, he ground his erection into Will, and felt Will's cock rouse in response. Angelus opened his mouth into Will's and let the blood pour free. The fledgling drank deeply from his Sire's mouth, his tongue darting into and around Angelus', licking clean his Sire's teeth and tongue.

Angelus laughed and sat up, drawing Will up with him. Grabbing the bottle from the bedside table, Angelus leaned back against the head board, delighting in Will's rapt attention. Grinning, Angelus poured a small dribble of blood from the bottle onto his chest and watched the fledgling eagerly lick his lips as he tracked the tiny beads of blood that ran down his Sire's chest. Angelus laughed again.

"Clean me," Angelus commanded softly.

Without hesitation Will leaned forward and began to lick the traces of blood from his Sire's chest and abdomen. Angelus poured another good measure and groaned aloud as Will fervently met the challenge. Swirling his tongue across his Sire's nipples, chest and abdomen, Will chased after the stray drops that gathered in the hair at the base of Angelus' hard, jutting cock.

Will licked at a stray drop that had slid across his Sire's hip and for a brief moment, lost control. Encountering a ridge of muscle, Will bit down, hard enough to draw blood. Before Will could savor a second taste of his Sire's blood, Angelus jerked his fledgling up by the hair and viciously backhanded him across the face.

With a snarling growl, Angelus followed Will's body to the floor. Landing on his fledgling, he placed his hands around Will's throat and began to choke.

There were those that theorized that a vampire was a corpse, unnaturally animated by evil. This theory was incorrect. While it was true that the human animation, or "soul," had been replaced by a demonic animation, the body that hosted the demon energy was alive. Demonically adapted to be faster, stronger and more efficient, the vampire's body did not require as much oxygen, but oxygen was required. Vampires breathed. Not only did breathing deliver the miniscule amounts of oxygen required to maintain the basic host body systems, it was also required for speech. The demon energy that the fledgling now hosted had not yet had time to adapt its body to a higher efficiency. Will was too new a vampire to know that he would not have to breathe as often, or as much. Or, that unless Angelus ripped his fledgling's head from its body, Will would survive his Sire's attack.

Will flailed in his Sire's hold, his eyes bulging from their sockets as he fought against Angelus' punishing grip. Desperately trying to suck at air that was being deprived him. Angelus slammed his progeny's head against the floor. Once to get his attention, the second time for fun.

"Did I give you permission to bite me?" Angelus snarled.

Will frantically shook his head, plucking ineffectually at the fingers gripping his throat.

"What?" Angelus cocked his head. "I didn't catch that."

"No," Will wheezed.

Angelus frowned and shook his head before slamming Will's head against the floor again.

"Nope, still couldn't quite catch what you said."

"No...Sire," Will gasped.

Angelus grinned down at his fledgling before rising, lifting Will by the throat and throwing him face down across the bed. Will lay, spent from his death, shaken from his birth, his breathing a labored, painful reminder of his former life and his Sire's punishment. Angelus had only just begun. The Sire had cut an alpha male from the pack and now his challenge would be to make a leader subservient. Grabbing Will by the back of the neck, Angelus covered his fledgling's body with his own. He had several pressing needs that needed immediate attention. One, the fledgling must learn to whom it now belonged, and, two... Angelus rubbed his aching erection against his progeny.

Will began to struggle against his Sire, but the new fledgling was far from strong enough to offer a true challenge to Angelus' dominance of him. Angelus laughed humorlessly and, effortlessly holding Will in place, moved down his fledgling 's body. Will jerked and cried out, as Angelus' fangs tore at the flesh of his progeny's lower back.

"I will tell you when and whom you may bite, Fledgling." Angelus whispered against Will's skin. "From now on, you do nothing without my direct approval, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sire," Will cried into the bed coverings that had bunched beneath him.

Angelus watched avidly, as the blood from his bite pooled at the pale rise of Will's ass, then ran in rivulets down the sides and center of Will's buttocks. Angelus' grin was feral as he reached down and stroked his own hardness, readying himself for his fledgling's first lesson in possession.

Biting down on the bed covers, Will began to scream. . .

~~~~~~~

Shaking, Angel jerked upright, his stomach heaving with nausea, Will's hoarse cries still echoing in his head. Glancing around the room, the vampire sought something to hold his attention and keep the past at bay. Angel noted that the garden outside the double doors was beginning to lighten. Dawn. Tiredly, Angel got to his feet and crossed the great room to pull the heavy drapes against the sun. Returning to the cold fire, he stirred the ashes, and ascertaining that the embers were truly dead, Angel rose again to leave the room.

Stumbling up the stairs, Angel made his way to his cold, darkened room. He had likened the room to a cell before, and never had his analogy seemed more correct than this gray dawn. He'd been a monster then, and he was capable of being that monster again. A cell is all that you deserve, he told himself. From deep inside he heard only derisive laughter in response.

Quickly stripping off his clothes, Angel climbed into the high four poster bed and pulled the cold sheets around himself. Laying back against the pillows, his body still shaking from the aftermath of his memories, Angel tried to calm his mind and hoped for a dreamless sleep. Hope was a vain thing, for a dreamless state was not to be. As Angel slipped into a fitful slumber he dreamed of his lost progeny, Drusilla - the woman he had destroyed and the vampire he had created.
 

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