1Chapter two
Angelus rolled over and found the bed empty. He scowled. He liked flaunting Society rules and spending all night with his woman, or in their case, all day. It didn't matter that no one actually knew they were being so sinful and sharing a bed. He got out of bed, padding down the hall. He knew Darla wouldn't be downstairs in the sun-drenched rooms. They always opened the lower curtains before retiring for the day just so the neighbors wouldn't' wonder why they were drawn. If anyone inquired about the upper levels, they were told that Darla suffered sick headaches and required darkness. Not that it matter what people thought except that if trouble started, they might have to move and then Darla would be furious they lost their nice big home. It was worth silly concessions to keep it.
He heard the unmistakable sounds of sex coming from William's room. So much for his weepiness over that damn puppy. It did bother him, having to share Darla. He hated the smell of her once she was done with William. It hurt that he wasn't enough man to keep her happy. Even more disturbing was the fact that part of him was excited by watching and listening, as evidence by the tenting of his nightgown.
Angelus eased the door open, peering in. He wasn't' surprised to see Darla on top on William. She loved being in control. When he was a mortal, Angelus looked to be the one in control. It never occurred to him that women could even go on top. Now he found himself giving over to Darla more and more and it was exhilarating. There was a sense of freedom in being controlled. It shouldn't be that way but there it was. He liked the strange feelings Darla stirred in him. It let his wildest nature have free rein. Oh, he still took control from her too, having to fight for it which only served to make him harder. Yes, it was worth having to watch her with William. It added a layer to their loving.
Darla's head fell back, her blonde hair moving over moonstone skin. She smiled at him. "Joining us?"
Angelus smirked, rolling up his nightgown over his hips as he walked to the bed. William groaned. Angelus figured he didn't want him intruding but it quickly became apparent it wasn't a conscious groan. Darla slipped off the slender vampire.
"Oh, so now he has a vision," she sighed, getting off the mattress lest she get batted by William's thrashing.
"I might be a bastard to live with," Angelus conceded. "But at least I don't do that." He nodded at William while rubbing against Darla.
She reached back, fondling him. "Oh, you do have your good points, Angelus. You just need to learn a little restraint with your family."
Angelus grunted sliding her nightgown up, knowing she wouldn't let him get too far until William told them what he was seeing. The dull ache of need throbbed between his legs. Angelus wished the stupid seer would just stop writhing and moaning.
William did so suddenly sitting up. The pain drained from his face, replaced with an ecstatic look. William laughed.
"What did you see, William?" Darla rubbed against Angelus groin teasingly.
"She's coming," William said, bouncing off the bed.
"Who's coming, William?" Darla touched his cheek.
"My dark rose!" William replied.
"Oh, that was helpful." Angelus snorted. "Try making sense for a moment, William. I know that's hard for you."
William ignored Angelus' slight, spinning himself around the bed post and flinging himself back on the mattress. "The one who makes me complete, a perfect ripe wicked plum."
"I think that's as close to sense as he's going to make, Angelus. But he seems happy," Darla said.
"I suppose."
"Next time we luck into a seer, no making him or her insane, Angelus." Darla said.
Angelus just grinned as he pulled Darla onto the bed with him. As William tried to slip in between, not ready to release his earlier claim on Darla's body, Angelus knew what he was hoping William's blather meant. William was going to sire himself a lover and Angelus was determined to help him do it; anything to get Darla back for himself without having to share.
Drusilla hated everything about parties and two things about them more than anything else; insipid people and the clothing. The people she could avoid, but there was no hiding from the bustle that made sitting a trick, all the horrible petticoats and the corset. At least her evening gown was provocatively cut, unlike the high collars of her day wear. She had chosen a deep emerald silk designed for grabbing attention. If she had to be at the party then people should notice her and realize she was avoiding them with reason. It might be in her best interest to fade into the background. It might be easier on her heart but it wasn't her nature.
She took a final look at herself in the mirror before going downstairs. Drusilla shared her parents' large, rambling home with her sisters. She fussed with the long iron curls that framed her face. If she didn't look her best, Honora would take every opportunity to remind her of it. As much as she loved her sisters, they could be harpies. How she looked was one battle she could avoid having with them. She touched the strand of her grandmother's pearls wound around her neck, the one concession to femininity that she actually liked. For a vain moment, she was taken aback by how pretty she looked.
As far as her sisters were concerned outwardly , she made a pretty good choice of wife. That was until the man found out about the active brain she had and her ideas that women could do whatever they set their mind to, just like a man. Well, if she got lucky the men wouldn't even notice her tonight. She really shouldn't have dressed provocatively but her vanity wouldn't let her do otherwise. Besides, most of her sisters' friends already knew she was 'odd.'
Drusilla hesitated on the stairs, seeing how packed the house was. All of Honora's friends were here. The downstairs buzzed with conversation and the rich smells of men's tobacco wafted through the house. How vulgar. She simply didn't want to go down there. Dru was quite late as it was, and she knew Honora would be furious about that. A coldness washed up over her. This would come to know good, Drusilla thought, swishing the rest of the way down the stairs.
Honora was one her before she even made it all the way to the landing, her scolding tongue flapping. Drusilla ignored her with well practiced ease as she tried to find a place to avoid the eyes that turned her way. Dru managed to keep herself secluded from their guests, more or less, except for the occasional forced small talk. It seemed like no one really knew what to say to her, especially now that she had been jailed, however briefly. It was as if they thought her 'madness' was catching if they talked to her.
She was contemplating her chances of escaping back upstairs with the pretense that she had a sick headache or the vapors or something fragile and womanly, and needed to lie down when Honora called for silence. It took a moment for the room to settle and for Drusilla to realize Honora was standing perilously close to Michael Wells. Radiant was the only term that described Honora's face.
Michael beamed as he addressed the room. "Honora and I are so glad to have all our friends here for this most special night."
Dru's heart sank. She knew what had to be coming and dreaded it. Her chest tightened as if someone had yanked her corset strings.
"Honora has done me the Honora of becoming my wife," Michael continued and Dru shut her eyes. Her sister wasn't just getting married; she was putting Elspeth and her under Michael's thumb as well. "She has made me a happy man."
Michael blathered on. Honora grinned so much it was as if her mouth had forgotten it could do anything else and Dru felt like fainting for the first time in her life. Drusilla faded back as their friends surged up to congratulate the happy couple. She felt like her life had just ended. She knew Michael had his eye on the House of Commons and unlike Phillipa's men folk, he wasn't sympathetic to women's rights. He would never allow her to have her lifestyle. Dru had no idea what to do.
Finally she knew that she couldn't put it off any longer. Drusilla edged over to Honora and said with all the enthusiasm of someone at a funeral, "I'm happy for you both."
"Thank you. This will be very good for all of us," Honora gushed.
Michael looked far less convinced. "I'm sure you'll settle in nicely once you and your sisters move into my home and we sell this old house."
Sell her parents' home? Who did this man think he was to just assume she would kow tow to him and do his bidding? She would have none of it. "What?"
"Not now, Drusilla," Honora hissed, knowing what might be coming next. "Not in front of the guests."
"There are several good men in my firm who are looking for good matches. I'm certain I can find you and Elspeth a husband," Michael continued as if clueless to her distress. She knew he wasn't. He was taunting her.
"Good luck with that, old man," Clive, one of Michael's close friends, said, overhearing the conversation. "He'd have to not mind his wife spending all that time in the jail."
Several people laughed. Honora flushed. Drusilla knew her own cheeks burned, too, but with rage not shame.
"I won't do it!" Dru declared.
"Drusilla, hold your tongue!" Honora cried. "You will do what you're told."
"I shall not. You're making a mockery of everything I stand for. How could you honestly believe that I'd give up my home and just marry some man because your man says so?" Drusilla stabbed a finger at Michael. "How could you so thoroughly misunderstand me?"
"I"ll take her, Michael. I'd like to try and break her high spirits," Ori Rhodes laughed.
"That's right, bray like the ass you are, Ori," Drusilla snarled.
"Enough Drusilla. You are ruining everything. Just do what you're told," Honora spat.
"I won't."
Michael's hand slapped Drusilla's face so hard and fast that she didn't have time to register it until the pain burned its way across her flesh. The room picked up the air of a tomb.
"That is the last we'll be hearing from you. You don't get a choice in this matter. You're not a man. Just accept it." He grinned triumphantly at her.
"Hell will have you before I obey you, Michael Wells," Drusilla said, her voice cold and flat. "I'd rather die in a gutter before spending another moment under your roof." Drusilla gathered her skirts and ran for the door. She could hear some of them laughing at her. She started to cry as the cool night air hit her face. She shivered wondering if snow wasn't going to come early. She wished she had grabbed her coat. She had no idea what she could do now, none at all. Maybe Phillippa would allow her a bedsit in her home until she could figure something out.
Weeping so hard she could barely see, Drusilla ran into a trio walking up the sidewalk. Muttering her apologies, Drusilla kept going, hoping her friend could help her put together the pieces of her shattered life. Someone had to.
"The next time we attend the ballet, can we leave William behind?" Angelus grumbled as they walked the city streets. Most people were already heading for home. It was a toss up between hunting the drunks and the whores now or waiting until the bakers and other shopkeepers came out in those last moments before sunrise. Angelus wanted to do both.
"William loved it. You can't leave him home," Darla scolded, tapping Angelus' buttocks suggestively with her fan.
Angelus stopped and looked behind him. William was several paces back, pirouetting and jumping about in a clumsy approximation of the jetes, glissades and pas de chats he had seen on stage. His curls had escaped the silk ribbon they had been tied back with and his embroidered coat was open flapping like dying wings. William's choreography was frightening and Angelus could only guess what the music in the mad vampire's head might sound like.
"It looks like he's having a fit," Angelus said sourly. His reputation surely had to suffer, being seen with such a sorry excuse for a vampire, even if he was the reason William was cracked.
"Hush." Darla looped an arm around Angelus. "Dance, William, dance."
William laughed, cavorting out onto the cobbles, his dance looking even more like someone had dropped hot coals down his pants as he stumbled over the rounded rocks.
"Confess, Angelus, you loved the ballet, too," Darla said, kissing his cheek.
"Of course he did. He wept when the prima danseur 'died'." William laughed, leaping back up onto the sidewalk. "Wilted on the stage like a plucked flower and Angelus' tears could have drowned her." William wiggled his fingers down his cheeks suggestively.
"Shut your gob!" Angelus growled. He had had more than enough of William's antics for one day.
William just laughed louder and swung himself around a gaslight, spinning himself to the top. "She's coming!" He announced excitedly. "Like a flame in the dark." He reached toward the glass of the gaslight then hissed as his fingers burned.
"Idiot," Angelus grumbled.
Putting his wounded digits in his mouth for a quick, soothing suck, William flung himself off the pole and put his arms around Darla. "She's coming, Mummy."
Darla patted his back. "That's nice, William. Who's coming?"
"The piece of moonlight made for me. I'm all alone," he said with a pout, pulling away from her.
"That's not true, precious. You have us," Darla said.
"Not in the least. I'm not welcome." William made sad eyes at Angelus who snorted.
"If you're lonely, William, why not make yourself a companion," Angelus suggested hopefully.
"Angelus," Darla hissed.
William's face brightened. "I will. That's who's coming. I'll pick the brightest, most beautiful princess in the realm and make her mine forever with a kiss."
Before Angelus could come up with a witty response, a blubbering girl slammed into him then careened off on her way, running down the sidewalk. She was too well dressed to be a whore and she was coming from the wrong direction to be a theater patron. He wondered vaguely who she was. She was pretty. William peeled off from his family and went after her.
"Or he can pick the first babbling idiot he finds," Darla sighed. "I'm not training a fledgling, Angelus. You encouraged him, you get to do it."
Angelus shrugged wondering how fast he could take William's girl from him. "Fair enough. Think he'll find someone good?"
Darla took his arm. "I found you."
Drusilla heard someone behind her and she started hurrying along. She knew she was in danger, a woman alone at night. She'd be lucky to not be set upon by thieves in the dark. Hearing the footsteps behind her, Drusilla turned the corner hoping to lose him and short cut to Phillippa's. Too late she realized that she had made a mistake. She had turned into a blind alley.
Steeling herself, Drusilla turned around. The young man she had run into on the sidewalk was behind her. His coat gaped open, his hair in a disarray. He looked like a fallen cherub and yet she remained afraid. "I've nothing for you to steal," she said foolishly. She stood before him with an expensive strand of pearls around her neck.
"I want nothing but a kiss," he said walking forward.
"I'm not that sort of girl, I thank you very much," she said primly. Maybe if she screamed the bobbies would come.
"No, you're a beautiful blue light pouring over the land, making changes."
"What are you talking about?" Her voice shook.. She was a little frightened by this lunatic. Attractive or not, she could see something like madness in his eyes.
"You want to do what men do. Think yourself. Do for yourself," he said ticking of the points with a sharp jerk of his head, mashing it into his pointed finger. "Admirable. You shine like the moon."
Drusilla backed against the wall. Had this man been one of the few men who had been at the rallies? He sounded like he understood her cause and approved. "Yes, I want the right to vote, to be educated. Is that so wrong?"
He reached out faster than she thought possible and caught her hand. His skin was so soft and cool like raw silk. "You want to use these hands to heal. My strong princess...I see France in your eyes."
Dru felt suddenly unafraid. "You know I want to go to the Sorbonne? Are you one of Phillippa's friends?"
"I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. I can help you be strong. You will have all your dreams. Do you want that?" he asked so close to her now their bodies were nearly touching.
"Yes," Drusilla breathed in spite of the ridiculousness of the idea of any one man granting all her dreams.
His lips caressed her bare neck. No man had ever been this intimate with her nor had she wanted them to. However, this was nice better than she would have suspected. He drew back and smiled at her all golden eyes and fanged. Drusilla shrieked and hit him right in the ridges of his forehead, missing his eyes in her panic. He laughed and caught her flailing wrists, pulling her close. The hardness between his legs dug into her hip as his fangs tore into her neck. Drusilla kept fighting the best she could until her body felt too heavy to move and the world spun into darkness.