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Beckett looked toward the young vampire who had announced his arrival.

“Leave us,” then almost as an afterthought. “Who‘s in the corridor?”
“Just Mike, Master William,” Ryan replied puzzled over where Beckett was heading.
“Is Spencer aware of this?”
“Not that I know of, Master, I haven’t seen him tonight.”
“Well, then, inform Mike that no one is to know about this until I’m ready. Including Spencer.”
“Yes, Master William,” Ryan retreated from the room, leaving Pete alone with Beckett.

Beckett leaned back on his desk and folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at Pete still kneeling. Taking a few steps forward, Beckett smiled thoughtfully as Pete remained, unmoving.
With considerable force, Beckett swung a long slender leg into Pete’s abdomen, sending him spinning across the room, finally crashing against the wall with tremendous force.

“Master!” Ryan’s voice could be heard beyond the door. “Is everything all right?”

Pulling the door open furiously, Beckett glared at the vampire only two months younger than Pete, but the difference was quite remarkable. Pete’s special treatment had made him strong, unbelievably strong for one so young. He had always been cocky, but vampirism had only made him worse and the mixture of strength and confidence made him perfect for the task Beckett wanted him to perform. But first, he would make him suffer for the many months of trying desperately to reclaim him.

“Go away, Ryan!” Beckett growled angrily. “When I want you, I’ll call for you!”

By the time Beckett had closed the door and turned around, he stepped back suddenly at the sight of Pete only inches from him. A heftily swung punch floored Beckett in an instant. It had been so very unexpected and he found himself skittering backwards, unable to keep his balance. Spreading out his arms behind him, he managed to break his fall.

“So, your pride gets the better of you and you give yourself away,” Beckett snapped as he rose quickly to his feet.

Focussing all his powers, Beckett unleashed a wave of energy that lifted Pete from his feet and sent him crashing back against the desk. Gasping with shock and pain, Pete writhed and struggled, frustrated that Beckett was able to hold him against the front panel with apparent ease.

“I should have realised your real purpose for coming here,” Beckett sneered. “Did you honestly think I could be so easily fooled?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pete growled through gritted teeth as Beckett held him pinned effortlessly.
“We’ll see, shall we?” Beckett snapped.

Invading Pete’s mind, Beckett tore into both his conscious and sub-conscious thoughts with all the disregard of a thief ransacking a house. The pain inside his head hit Pete like an explosion. At first he fought against it, trying to throw up walls against the onslaught, a natural reaction for the trained hunter, but he was soon overpowered by Beckett’s greater strength. The excruciating pain and turmoil inside Pete’s mind rapidly reduced him to a limp, semi-conscious heap hanging helplessly against the desk, still held firmly by Beckett’s power.

“What are you up to, Peter?”

The words echoed in his mind. Pete wasn’t certain if Beckett had actually spoken or not, but his reply was a whispered jumble of words.

“N…nothing…I…Master, p…please!”

Beckett frowned when he found nothing to indicate a trick or trap of any kind. Withdrawing slowly, Beckett smiled cruelly as Pete gasped and slumped heavily to the floor, his back no longer pinned to the desk.

“Get up!” he ordered harshly, inconsiderate of Pete’s continued pain and disorientation.

Beckett looked on, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face as Pete struggled to co-ordinate his limbs.

“Are you defying me, Peter?” he demanded, as after thirty seconds Pete still lay on the floor unable to summon the strength to raise himself.
“N…no, Master William… but I…” Pete stammered, his mind still reeling from the attack.
“You know you deserve to be punished, don’t you?” Beckett revelled in torturing Pete, even though the search of his thoughts revealed that his return to the mansion appeared to be genuine.
“Because I left?” Pete asked weakly.
“Yes, because you left, but mostly because you dared to hit me!” Beckett growled at the memory.
“But you…” Pete began, only to be interrupted.
“You are not my equal, Peter! If I choose to beat you, torture you or even kill you, I will do just that and you will accept it without question! Do you know why?”
Slowly recovering from the assault on his mind, Pete nodded his understanding. “Because you’re my master.”
“That’s right,” Beckett sneered, enjoying seeing him finally subservient. Walking to the desk, Beckett reached out a hand to help Pete to his feet. “Now, I believe we have things to discuss.”

*

“When do you suppose he’ll wake up?” Andy asked as he glanced again at his watch.
“It’s only just after five, it’s still early yet,” Joe shrugged.
“The sun set half an hour ago. Pete gets up at sunset.”
“No,” Joe corrected him with a chuckle, “Patrick wakes him at sunset. You’ve seen what he looks like, he can barely sit up for the first fifteen minutes.”
Andy smiled in return as he thought about the terminology as it would apply to a vampire. “No, Pete’s not an early evening person.”

A sudden intake of breath startled the pair. Turning their heads back towards the bed, they were in time to see Patrick try desperately to sit up, his eyes wide with alarm.

“Pete!” he cried, trembling and straining on the chains and growing ever more panic-stricken as they held firm.
“Trick it’s okay! You’re safe, calm down!” Andy called out as they both rushed forward.

Andy gave Patrick’s arm a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

“Careful,” Joe warned. “Don’t forget, like I did.”

Patrick stared up at his friends, almost unseeing as they tried to reassure him.

“Patrick!” Joe tried to sound calm despite his own concern regarding the sudden outburst. “It’s okay, relax, it’s okay!”
“No… no! Pete!” Patrick replied, breathless in his panicked state.
“He’s not here,” Andy admitted, before adding. “We’ll let you know when he’s back, I promise.”

Patrick sighed heavily with relief and exhaustion and allowed his head to flop back onto the pillow, sweat glistening on his brow.

“You don’t understand,” Patrick breathed hard against what would normally have been a racing pulse. “Beckett’s torturing him.”
“Beckett!” Andy and Joe cried almost in unison with Andy continuing on his own. “How do you know?”
“I can feel it,” Patrick replied, his own sensation of pain subsiding.
“He has a link with Pete,” Joe explained. “Beckett captured him again?”

Patrick paused for a few moments as he examined the link and the feelings that came with it; more information coming to him as the pain dipped. A frown formed on his already troubled face.

“I don’t… I don’t think so.”
Joe closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “He went back?”

Patrick nodded silently.

“I was afraid that might happen,” Joe replied somewhat mysteriously.
“You read my notes?”
“Yeah,” Joe nodded.
“What?” Andy cut in feeling excluded from the knowledge the pair shared.
“Only senior vampires are allowed to turn humans,” Patrick explained. “It’s not just a status thing, it takes a lot of power. You know now that Pete was stronger than any vampires his age because he fed from Beckett for three months.”
“You should have told us, Patrick,” Joe cut in.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why?” Patrick repeated. “What purpose would it have served? Pete was terrified you’d mistrust him. He asked me to keep it to myself, so I did.”
“You put us at risk,” Joe pressed.
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “I kept a confidence, that’s all. Do you really think I’d risk your lives?”
“But he could have been…”
“But he wasn’t!” Patrick stated firmly. “And you all agreed. It was irrelevant and it remains irrelevant.”
“Enough!” Andy interrupted, growing increasingly agitated by the lack of information. “What happened to Pete?”

Patrick licked his dry lips, frowning as his tongue picked out his fangs, which, even while retracted were still unusually sharp and unfamiliar to him.

“Turning a human is draining,” Patrick explained. “Physically… and mentally. Pete was strong enough to do it, but wouldn’t have been prepared for the effects.”
“You… you mean… he’s gone crazy?”
Patrick drew his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Probably.”

Andy’s mouth fell open, his breathing quickened, almost staggering as he paled.

“Andy?” Joe made a grab for his arms to stop him falling. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I… I made him… I made him do it!” he stammered. “Patrick was going to die. I didn’t know, he didn’t say anything!”
“Hey!” Joe shook him gently. “You didn’t know, man, it’s not your fault!”
“Did…” Andy turned back to look at Patrick. “Did he know?”
Patrick nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he knew.”

*

“Comfortable?”

Brendon looked up slowly, his eyes tired and heavy. Opening his mouth to speak, he found his mouth and throat were dry, making speech all the more difficult. Already weakening, rather than rushing in an instant to the cell’s bars, he pushed himself to his feet, carefully and slowly. Turning his gaze beyond the bars, he cast a deep loathing glare at Spencer, who merely returned with condescending laughter.

“Laugh while you can, Spencer,” Brendon fought against the scratchy sensation in his parched throat. “I’ll get out of here and…”
“How?” Spencer laughed again. “You won’t get out. William despises you now; he thinks you betrayed him. You’re here to starve, Brendon. A nice slow, painful process, then he’ll probably kill you. I think I’ll suggest he does… out of kindness.”
“He’ll figure it out!” Brendon pouted. “He’s not stupid, you know!”
“No,” Spencer agreed, “but he doesn’t have to be. He just has to think that you are.”

Spencer chuckled at Brendon’s expression that fell somewhere between panic and anger.

“He’ll know as soon as he realises I did everything he asked me to.”
“Did he ask you to free the prisoners?” Spencer asked raising an eyebrow.
“I didn’t do that,” Brendon’s face twisted into a furious grimace. “You did!”
“Are you going to tell him?” Spencer asked, before raising a finger in an exaggerated movement. “Ah! You can’t can you? Not even telepathically. Has he forbidden it, dear Brendon?”

Brendon glanced down in frustration, his fists balled tightly as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Oh!” Spencer mocked. “He’s blocked you out, hasn’t he? You couldn’t reach him if you tried.”

Brendon’s anger bubbled over and he flew at the bars reaching for Spencer, who had the advantage of speed over the weakened Brendon. Stepping back out of harm's way, he offered his rival a smirk.

“I’ve got nothing to fear now, not now you’re disgraced and safely locked up. You can’t reach me from in here.”
“When Master finds out that Pete drained Patrick, he’ll know then!”

Spencer shook his head with a soft chuckle; his next words designed to cut through Brendon’s last hope.

“And just who do you think is going to tell him that?”