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In his office, William Beckett sat back in his chair, fingers interlaced as he held his hands close to his chest. It was hardly an opportunity to celebrate; he hadn’t achieved anything even close to what he wanted. Pete, although still his prisoner, was no longer under his control and could not be forced to help him destroy the other Coven Leaders. Added to that and the vampire hunters had escaped, as had the girl. It was beyond frustrating. He had planned everything so carefully and one by one his carefully laid and executed plans had been derailed by incompetence, treachery or sheer dumb luck in the hunters’ favour. Beneath his calm exterior, Beckett was seething. He had been humiliated and not just in front of his own Coven, but to the other coven leaders too. He had boasted of his triumph too early and now he had nothing. No… not quite nothing. He had Pete and he would pay dearly for what had happened. He would suffer, his friends would suffer and yes, he would have the girl too and he would turn her in front of her beloved Joe. The anger welled up from deep within him as he caught sight of Spencer, still lying immobile on the floor. The one who had caused the bulk of his plans to fail lay awaiting his final punishment, still held firmly by the strands of energy Beckett had formed around him prior to Pete’s escape attempt. Rising from his chair, Beckett strode purposely over to the helpless traitor.

“So, Spencer,” Beckett glowered at him, “I guess you’re mostly recovered from the fight with Pete now, aren’t you?”

Spencer could do nothing except stare up in fear of what Beckett had planned for him.

“That will seem like a picnic compared with what I’m going to do to you now,” he sneered. “And the best bit, is that while you’ll remain immobile, you will feel every agonising kick, blow and cut both physically and mentally. Actually, no, that’s not the best bit… the best bit is that this isn’t even your punishment! That’s still to come!”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he tried, without success, to call out in protest. Lifting him from the floor and holding him in mid-air with only the power of his mind, Beckett began a savage attack on his former Second.

“Master William,” Mike interrupted, contacting Beckett telepathically. “I have Pete fully secured in the dungeon. I’ll bring the keys to you now.”
“No,” Beckett replied as he induced a feeling of intense heat over every inch of Spencer’s pain-racked body. “I’ll be there in ten minutes with another prisoner.”
“Very well, Master, I’ll wait for you here.”

*

Mike stared down at Pete, a cruel sneer forming on his face. Still with his hands manacled behind him, Pete sat on the floor, a thick clasp fastened around his neck with its chain pulling him back hard against the wall. His knees bent for support, offered little comfort against the close fitting shackles around his ankles.

“You really thought you could escape?” Mike laughed at Pete’s defiant expression. Shaking his head, he continued. “No, there was never any chance of that?”
“Really?” Pete growled. “You had no idea where we were or where we were headed.”
“Ah, but your little friend’s mistake cost you dearly and now,” Mike grinned in return referring to Andrea speaking within earshot of him as they searched for the renegade pair. “Now, I’m in high favour with Master William.”
“In favour?” Pete laughed. “You don’t seriously believe that Beckett will make you his Second do you?”
“Why not?” Mike raised an eyebrow arrogantly. “Spencer’s crashed from a great height, and now, after capturing you, I’m the obvious choice. And in just under ten minutes, you’ll see for yourself!”
“You’re deluding yourself.” Pete shook his head and chuckled to himself.

Mike’s eyes narrowed as Pete mocked him, his anger growing with each passing second. Finally stepping forward, the furious vampire swung a tightly clenched fist into Pete’s jaw. To Mike’s initial pleasure, Pete’s laughter stopped instantly and he moved in for another blow to the chained prisoner. With a satisfied gleam in his eyes, Pete’s head snapped up as he drew back his legs and ploughed them with all the force he could muster into Mike’s chest. Tumbling backwards, Mike cursed himself for falling for the trick, but as he hit the floor, he saw that there was more to Pete’s plan than he first realised.

Standing over him, looking down and smiling disdainfully, was Patrick. Mike laughed arrogantly, unimpressed by the confident expression on his face.

“Go on,” he sneered, while still lying on the floor, looking up, not even trying to hide his contempt. “Try your best and then I’ll kill you.”

Patrick’s grin broadened before dropping quickly to his knees at Mike’s side. Mike’s eyes widened as Patrick opened his mouth, his fangs extending as he did.

“No! You… you’re…”

Cut off sharply as Patrick sunk his fangs deeply into Mike’s throat, slicing clean through his larynx, Mike was silenced. Screaming internally in silent agony and writhing helplessly beneath Patrick as he tore at his throat, Mike’s blood spilled over his chest and the floor. Finding it hard to concentrate, Mike tried desperately to put out a telepathic call to Beckett, only to find it blocked by Pete’s invasion of his mind. He wasn’t certain exactly how he had done it, but with Mike in his weakened state it hadn’t felt a difficult task to divert his intentions.

Finally pulling back as he felt the pinned vampire’s struggles weaken, Patrick wiped his chin and turned a satisfied smile towards Pete.

“Where are the keys?” he asked, licking his lips clean of the blood.
“Inside pocket,” Pete replied with a wide grin. “Hurry, Beckett’ll be here any minute.”

Pushing Mike’s jacket open, it was a simple matter for Patrick to find the key to the locks on Pete’s chains and free him. Rubbing his wrists while Patrick freed his ankles, Pete couldn’t help but smile at how good a team they made. They had before, but now, even more so. Standing quickly once free, Pete gave Patrick a brief but sincere hug before the pair headed for the door.

Inside the main house, within sight of the rear doors, Pete paused. There was something about the stride of the approaching vampire that sounded all too familiar.

“Beckett!” he whispered.
“Then let’s go,” Patrick encouraged with a smile.

Racing to freedom, the pair turned briefly as Beckett caught sight of them.

“How… NO!” Beckett fumed; mentally raising the alarm so loudly and openly that even Pete and Patrick heard.

Flashing a gloating smile in Beckett’s direction, Patrick pushed Pete towards the exit. If there was one thing they both knew, it was that Beckett himself would not make chase. Beckett’s eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Patrick’s fangs – now largely withdrawn, but still clearly visible.

“You… you can’t be,” Beckett sighed deeply and closed his eyes in frustration, as the door swung shut behind them. They had a massive head start against the members of his coven; they would escape for sure. Beckett had nothing. “Brendon!”

*

“Brendon?”

Brendon’s sticky eyes parted slowly with difficulty. He half lay, half sat, curled up and slumped against the wall in the farthest corner of the cell. His heavy lidded eyes could barely focus as he heard Beckett approach. The accompanying groans told him that Beckett was dragging someone with him. Brendon lowered his eyes again.

‘More torture,’ he thought to himself. ‘A human for the adjacent cell? Something to deepen his desperate bloodlust all the more?’

It wasn’t fair. He had been so scared that Beckett planned to replace or kill him over his stupid mistake with Pete that left him with his humanity intact but despite his fear, he had done everything asked of him. Yet here he was, alone, starving, weak and disgraced in his master’s eyes. Perhaps he deserved it for some of the other things he had done over the years? But not for this. It wasn’t fair, but he had no way to change what had happened or the judgement passed on him. Realistically, he couldn’t complain about fairness – vampires weren’t fair. The extremes of emotion that they could feel weren’t about fairness; they were about, self-preservation.

“M… Master,” Brendon struggled to greet Beckett.

It had been so long since Brendon had even tried to speak that the difficulty of it took him by surprise. His throat parched and sore and his dry, cracked lips made the movement of every syllable feel more like a razorblade in his mouth.

Placing both hands on the wall to act as support and balance, Brendon drew up his left leg and prepared to push himself upright. His brow creased in confusion, as after two attempts he hadn’t moved an inch. Finally realising that his failing coordination had resulted in his right leg being pinned by the left, he stared down, trying hard to figure out this one simple movement. To his dismay, it seemed an impossible puzzle and with every attempt to resolve the problem his anxiety deepened.

“Forgive me, Master,” Brendon pleaded as, much to his distress, yet another attempt to stand failed.

Beckett stared down at his former favourite, starved, weak and confused; in that single moment, much of his anger dissipated and an expression that bordered on pity formed on the coven leader’s eternally youthful and handsome face.

“Brendon,” he finally spoke as the younger vampire continued to exhaust himself trying to stand, “you’re too weak to rise. Stay where you are.”

Brendon nodded his relief. So distracted was he by the chance to rest once more that he didn’t even notice the cell door slide open and Beckett step inside.

“I have a number of things I want to say to you, Brendon, but first, I’ve brought you something to eat.”

Brendon’s eyes widened as he became fixated on the groaning body sliding towards him, viciously thrown within easy reach. Without looking, without caring, and in an act of pure instinct, Brendon fell on the newcomer, fangs already extending. Pushing his head aside, Brendon pinned him and leaning in, pierced the flesh and sank deep into the vein. Warm, thick blood filled his mouth as he drank eagerly, desperate to quench his thirst. Pressing harder on the vein, though more painful for the victim, allowed the blood to flow more freely and he took full advantage, pulling the rich nourishment into his mouth almost faster than he could swallow. The semi-conscious body writhed beneath him in at least partial awareness of the pain, but Brendon, now stronger, restrained him and forcefully held him in one position.

Beckett watched with a satisfied smile as Brendon drained the easy prey. He had almost had his fill before Brendon realised that it wasn’t human blood that he was drinking. Pulling away, he tilted the head of his victim and stared into the deathly pale face.

“Spencer?”

Brendon didn’t expect a reply. Spencer was practically dead. It was one thing to starve a vampire, another to drain him sufficiently to deepen his hunger, as he had done with Pete, but this was quite different. Spencer had now been drained of virtually every drop and unless fed directly by another vampire’s blood, he would not recover. Too weak to even move, Spencer was condemned to lie in that one position and continue to starve until fed or killed. It was a cruel fate for an immortal being, possibly the cruellest. His only consolation lay in the possibility that he would eventually, over time, slip into insanity and find some release from his own mind and the torture imposed on him.

Still on his knees, Brendon looked up at Beckett. Uncertainty filled his mind once more. That Spencer had been handed a crueller punishment than he had by no means meant that he was once again in favour.

“Master?” Brendon spoke with a shaky voice as he rose to his feet, lowering his head in deference.
“Brendon, you have,” Beckett paused to sigh deeply, “many faults, but disloyalty isn’t one of them.”
“Master, please believe me! I carried out all the tasks you gave me, every one.”
“I know!” Beckett raised his hands in a calming gesture. “I know that now and I’m sorry I doubted you. I still don’t know how he did it, but trying to trick me is a fatal error.”

Brendon glanced down at Spencer’s body. He could feel no sympathy, Spencer had tried to destroy him and disgrace him in Beckett’s eyes. The only thing he did feel was gratitude that it was a punishment that Beckett had not handed out to him. What he had suffered was already bad enough. But now, even as he thought more about it, his old worries and paranoia crept up to him and whispered in his ear that he was still not safe.

“Master, if you don’t know how he did it, how did you discover he’d lied to you?” he asked surprisingly boldly.
“Quite by accident,” Beckett frowned. “The hunters’ leader, Patrick, he’s now a vampire.”
“A vampire! Wentz turned him?”
Beckett nodded in reply. “And to do that, he must have drained him first.”
“He did, I was watching when… oh! That’s how you know?”
Beckett nodded in reply. “Suddenly, Spencer’s story about you freeing the prisoners made no sense against that one solitary fact. I guess he was hoping that they would escape before Wentz had the chance to drain him. But more than that, I discovered that Spencer had been plotting against me too and that is punishable only by death.”
“Plotting against you?” Brendon’s eyes widened. “I knew he was disloyal, but…”
“Sshh, Brendon! I’m not accusing you of anything. You were loyal to me and I punished you severely for it. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, Master,” Brendon replied, relief spreading quickly across his face as he learned that he was no longer being blamed.
“William, Brendon. If you wish to rejoin me at my side, you must call me William.”

Brendon lowered his head with a heavy sigh, almost unable to accept that William was accepting him back as his second so freely. It was true that it had not been Brendon’s fault, but Beckett was proud and his personal sacrifice to admit that he had made a mistake stunned Brendon into a few moments silence.

“Thank you, William,” he finally managed.
“But, Brendon, for all your good points: your loyalty, your sadistic mentality, cruelty and charm; your paranoia nearly destroyed you! If you learn anything from this, remember that you are my favourite, my Second. If you displease me, I will punish you, but if there is no punishment, then there has been no crime! Don’t let your paranoia cause so much trouble again!”
“I… I understand, William. It won’t happen again.”
Beckett smiled, almost laughed. “Yes it will, Brendon, you know it will. Just… try to keep it under control.”

Brendon nodded at Beckett’s understanding. As much as he wanted to explain to Beckett that if he had told him the truth in the first place, he would probably not have been so paranoid. But Beckett had been forgiving enough for one day. Pushing for more would be risky.

“Now, come; we have a great deal to do. The hunters are still free and now two of them are vampires.”
“Do you still only want Wentz or do you want both?” Brendon asked as he followed Beckett out of the dungeon, casually stepping over Spencer, lying as good as dead on the floor of the cell.
William mulled the question over in his mind for a few minutes as they climbed the stairs.

“Yes,” he turned to Brendon with a cruel smirk spreading across his face. “I believe I do want both of them. Setting them against each other could provide us with some much needed entertainment.”

Brendon’s mouth widened into a grin at Beckett’s words; he was back in his rightful place and a plan was already hatching in Beckett’s mind.