Here's another chapter. Sorry for the slow progress. I am slowly chipping away through my story plan, I've just got a lot going on. The next chapter will have a little action and will have both Margaret and John POV. Thanks for reading!
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It surprised John that the Masters were actively taking notes of which workers were attending the union meeting. Whilst he certainly did not condone strikes in any case, he also understood that the workers were well within their rights to meet. Despite being just as monstrous a creature as his fellows, he wanted his men to be treated well and avoid the desire for a strike altogether.
Slickson's sly voice cutting through his thoughts reminded him that it wasn't his decision. His hands were tied by the bond to the Masters.
'Thornton, are you not taking an interest?' he asked, and John was acutely aware of Hamper watching him as well.
John sighed and took a sip from his cup. 'If you don't want them to rebel, why not just place them under the same spell that keeps them from sticking their noses into our business?' he questioned gruffly. 'Surely that is a simpler solution'.
'But a lot less fun!' Henderson exclaimed.
Hamper smirked. 'Why not let them have their fun? We're just keeping track in case anyone becomes too much trouble'.
'Their lives depend on us,' John murmured. 'What difference does it really make to us to raise their wages? We have no need for the money'.
'What has happened to you, John?' asked Hamper.
'Your mother forbid you from having a little fun?' another added.
John did not dignify either question with a response.
Slickson's smirk broadened, and he looked positively snakelike as he scrutinised John. 'I reckon he's been spending too much time around that Hale girl. He's gone soft!'
'Or not!' anyone guffawed. 'Not thinking with his head anymore, that's for sure'.
John's blood felt somehow colder as he considered what the other men were undoubtedly thinking about Margaret. The same white-hot rage he had felt that day with Stephens returned with a vengeance, and he hastily quaffed the rest of his cup. The idea of any of them getting their hands on Margaret or even considering her in a dishonourable manner was unthinkable.
'Put your fangs away, John,' Hamper stepped forward and clapped him on the back. 'None of us will touch Miss Hale, however tempting'.
'Unless she wants us to,' one of the others added.
John did not speak for a moment, focusing all his attention on Hamper instead of the monster's chuckling at the other man's comment. Hamper poured him another cup and pushed it into his hand.
'Drink and then be off, John. If you have no interest in the strikers, then you have work to do at Marlborough mills'.
John was grateful for the small mercy and drank his fill quickly. Beastly man as he was, he had to appreciate Hamper's tact. He rose to his feet, intending to retreat to the solitude of his office.
'Are we not first going to discuss the ongoing rogue problem?' Slickson asked.
John observed a flicker of something akin to concern in Hamper's eyes before he turned back to face the other men.
'We continue as we always have. No attacks will ever be linked to us. As far as Milton is concerned, it'll be blamed on some roughens that have come into town'.
'And if it isn't?' John asked calmly. 'I know you don't respect human life, but surely you can see the merit in preserving the lives of our workers. That is if the attacks are even from an outsider'.
'Are you accusing one of us of going rogue?' Henderson demanded.
John raised an eyebrow at the man. 'Would it be so unbelievable?'
Henderson's eyes flashed with anger, but Hamper stepped between them before any further words could be exchanged.
'No one would be that foolish,' Hamper's eyes bore into his. 'Rogues are desperate feeders, nothing more'.
'I believe I crossed paths with one in the park two nights back. I heard it, but a human wouldn't have. It was stalking in the darkness like a predator'.
Hamper averted his gaze for a moment and scuffed his feet against the rug beneath him. 'Why didn't you mention this sooner?'
John shook his head with a scoff. 'It didn't seem like a desperate feeder to me. You run this circus, Hamper. I thought you had it handled'.
Hamper opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again.
John took his silence has an opportunity to exit the room, tugging on his overcoat as he went. Despite his anger at the Masters' poor management of the current threat, his fury was still focused on those who had spoken crudely of Margaret. Similar words had once made him feel sick to his stomach and yet he found that he only felt anger. Nausea was no longer a problem for him.
The house was quiet when he returned for the night. John mourned how he had taken sleep for granted when he was human. The lack of fatigue was helpful for his work, but his mind was never at rest.
'You're early this evening'.
He merely nodded.
'So? What news is there?'
John shrugged. 'Hamper seems more concerned about the rogue problem than he's letting on and the Masters seem disinterested in raising the wages to what they used to be'.
'Then why let the workers meet? Why not change their minds to save the trouble?' Mrs Thornton glared at the banister.
'I believe they find it entertaining,' he sneered.
'Is running the town not enough?' Mrs Thornton sighed wearily. 'Could you not change things yourself?'
'No,' he shook his head and slowly climbed the stairs to meet her. 'I only have this position because of them. I cannot jeopardise everything to claim the moral high ground'.
'You do not have everything you have because of them,' she growled. 'Just because they now secure you, does not mean that you are lesser. I will not have you feeling shame for our situation. If only your father were alive, he'—
'Well he's not,' John cut across her sharply.
She released a quiet sigh and reached up to touch his arm. When he did not immediately push her away, she gently pulled him into her arms. John had once found her embrace comforting, but now it was just a reminder of the monster he had become. He felt as much warmth as he would were he to lay sprawled out on the polished floor. He felt her shiver and quickly tore himself from her arms.
'I'm sorry, mother,' he whispered, and his voice caught in his throat.
'He only did what he thought was right,' she replied lowly. 'If he'd have taken the deal then you wouldn't be here'.
John sighed. 'Sometimes I think that would have been better'.
Mrs Thornton's eyes hardened. 'What would you have done? If the choice was between you and your child, would you have chosen yourself?'
'That, I'll never know'.
Before his transformation, John had often considered what kind of a father he would be. All he had ever hoped was that he would be a better father than his own had been. He was too young to understand back then. He couldn't possibly understand that his father had been desperate to save his family. The bitter part in John demanded to know which one of them had done the deed, though he was quite certain it had to have been Hamper.
John felt the wounds of long ago threaten to tear open once more. Whilst they had never had the chance to heal, they were fused shut by the same coldness that prevented John's fingers from feeling the banister beneath them. He felt hollow – a shell of the person he once was, and yet… As his thoughts shifted from his departed father to his devoted mother, he felt that small stirring in his chest. Perhaps like a small candle being sheltered in a blizzard, there was warmth in his heart yet.
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Just building a bit more of the background whilst sticking to canon events. I hope you're enjoying the parallels. I'm certainly enjoying writing them. Thanks again for reading :)