FicWad

Joe pulled the door open and gazed down at the man supporting himself on one knee, bruised bloodied and exhausted.

“Dirty! What happened to you?” Joe asked, tricked by Beckett’s mind control, he was unaware that he was actually speaking to Dandies leader.
“I was attacked, got away. Don’t know how, but I got away.”
“Attacked? By vampires?” Joe asked cautiously.
“No, I don’t know who they were,” Beckett sagged, grimacing in imaginary pain. “Please, Joe…”
“Sure… sorry…” Joe replied hurriedly as he bent down to help him up.

With his hands on his arms, Joe looked into the man’s eyes and somehow he knew that something felt wrong.

“Uhn… no, wait…”
“Sorry, Joseph,” Beckett curled his fingers around Joe’s arm, gripping him unnaturally tightly. “You lose.”

Struggling against Beckett’s grip, Joe gasped as the control of his perception was lifted and finally he saw who held him. Beckett curled his mouth into a cruel sneer as he rose, towering over Joe, not for a moment releasing his firm hold on him. Suddenly shoving him backwards, Beckett delighted in the expression on Joe’s face that, for a fleeting moment, believed he had a chance of escape. Instead Joe found himself propelled into Brendon’s equally vice-like hold.

“I should have known you’d pull something like this!” Joe struggled ineffectually in Brendon’s grip. “You’re a coward!”
“Somehow,” Beckett grinned menacingly as he stroked the fur stole draped over his left shoulder, “I don’t expect you to have a high opinion of me. Neither do I care.”
“Joe!”

Joe stopped struggling and turned his head at the sound of Andrea’s terrified voice. His eyes widened as he realised she was about to cross the threshold – the only thing keeping her safe.

“No!” he yelled, pleading with his eyes. “Stay inside, you’re safe there, they can’t touch you!”
“But… no!”
“You can’t help me, there’s nothing you can do.” Joe insisted. “Stay where you are!”

The pair stared at each other; pained expressions told of their fear that they would never see each other again.

“Oh, this is just too sweet!” Beckett mocked. “Brendon, kill him.”
“My pleasure!” Brendon grinned as he pulled Joe’s head to one side.
“No!” Andrea stepped forward automatically.

Releasing his grip on Joe’s head, Brendon laughed loudly as Andrea’s terrified expression turned to one of bewilderment as, in a blur of movement, Beckett now held her in his grip.

“Let her go, Beckett!” Joe cried. “You don’t want her, she’s just another human to you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Joseph,” Beckett’s lips curled into a smile as he turned Andrea to face him, holding both of her arms and relishing the expression of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. “Like you, I can see how special she is. How delicate, fragile, beautiful. She will be mine, forever.”
“No!” Joe screamed and tried his best to pull free as Beckett bent down to press his fangs to her neck.
“Beckett!”

Glancing up, Beckett smiled at the sight of Andy and Simon, both now standing in the doorway. Andy looked exhausted, and still very ill – all his energy being taken merely to remain standing. In his hand, Andy was holding another of Patrick’s gadgets – a stake gun. Roughly the length of a sawn off shotgun, but with wider barrels, the gun came equipped with a loading mechanism attached to a clip holding up to ten miniature stakes.

“Let them go, Beckett,” Andy demanded.
“Or?” Beckett asked softly.
“I’ll kill you both.”
“No,” Beckett shook his head. “You see, my dear, Andrew, I have the upper hand. I always have the upper hand.”

Andy’s eyes widened as he felt something sharp pressed to his neck.

“This scalpel is very sharp, Andy,” Simon hissed into his ear. “If I were you, I wouldn’t move.”
“Simon? But you’re not a vampire, you were awake during the day.” Andy’s blood ran cold at the shock of his friend working voluntarily for Beckett.
“That’s right, I’m not, but Master Beckett has taken very good care of me.”
“You think he’ll do anything but kill you now?” Andy spat, bitter at the betrayal.

Brendon stepped forward, dragging the equally shaken Joe with him. Brendon wore a superior smirk as Andy was forced to lower and finally drop the stake gun.

“I told you when we had you in the dungeon that you had a spy in your camp. You didn’t believe me.”
“You said it was Joe!”
“Yeah, I lied about that, but you do have a spy in your camp, but I guess you know that now,” Brendon grinned. “And he’s successfully kept you feeling ill following your little injury.”

Joe frowned deeply. The injections Simon had given to Andy, supposedly to make him feel better or sleep, were all designed to keep him feeling weak and nauseous. Struggling once more in Brendon’s grip, Joe knew it was futile, but he was too frustrated not to even try.

“Are the others still caged?” Beckett asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone.
“They only got as far as deactivating the electrical current and opening the door, but they are both still chained up inside, Master,” Simon nodded. “Please, come in.”

*

“Pull!” Pete growled again.
“I’m not as strong as you!” Patrick protested. “If you can’t break them, how can I?”
“Stop complaining and pull!” Pete snapped back. “You heard all that outside, didn’t you? If we don’t get out of here fast, we’re dead!”

Each of them went back to straining against the chains. Gritting his teeth, Pete closed his eyes tightly as he tried desperately to pull his strong arms apart. Finally with a gasp of effort, Pete’s right hand pulled free as two of the links broke. Shaking his left hand loose and unhooking his arms from the arrangement that held him upright, Pete grunted in frustration as he turned his attention to his ankles. Smiling as he saw them secured with smaller, easily broken padlocks, Pete was making his way from the cage only seconds later.

“Pete!” Patrick turned his head to stare up at his friend. “What about me?”
“I’m sorry, Patrick, I don’t have time,” he replied quickly before heading for the door.

Patrick gave a cry of frustration, as he remained seated on the cage floor, still fully secured and helpless.

*

Beckett walked confidently towards the doorway laughing as Andy narrowed his eyes at him. Simon took a few steps back dragging Andy with him to make room for Beckett’s entrance. Andy’s mouth turned from a deep frown into a satisfied smirk as the invisible force that had always kept Beckett from entering still prevented his access.

“What is this?” Beckett demanded angrily. “He invited me in!”
“He doesn’t live here!” Andy crowed at Beckett’s humiliation. “He can invite you all he likes, but it won’t make any difference!”
“Then you will invite me in!” Beckett snapped, glaring at the hunter.
“No I won’t,” Andy replied defiantly, his lips drawn into a thin line, his jaw clenched.
“You will when I order my servant to draw that scalpel across your throat.”
“No,” Andy spoke calmly, almost icily, “I won’t.”
“Simon.” Infuriated, Beckett spoke slowly and deliberately, his tone chilling. “Kill him.”

Simon’s eyes widened in shock at the order. He had kept Andy from recovering and now he held a scalpel to his throat, but the order to kill was not one he had expected.

“M…Master Beckett…I…”
“I said, kill him!” Beckett screamed.

Simon felt little more than a gust of wind around him and a blur of black and red rushed by his eyes. The first thing he was truly aware of was the crushing pain searing through his entire body as his head was forced back against the wall behind him. Only a moment later, the scalpel tinkled to the floor.

“Release Patrick!” Pete yelled, pushing Andy back down the corridor as he pulled the doctor from his slumped position against the wall, his blood pouring from a head-wound. Pete’s mouth watered as the smell of the blood filled his nostrils. It was more than he could stand and in moments, he had sunk his fangs deep into the man’s neck, draining off what was left. Licking his lips, he relished the last few drops as he let Simon drop to the floor.

“So, Peter,” Beckett chuckled, “I did wonder if you’d been left with a taste for human blood. You didn’t even hesitate, they were obviously right to keep you chained up.”
“I know what you want, Beckett,” Pete growled, ignoring his taunts.
“Do you, indeed?”
“You know I do,” Pete locked eyes with the vampire who turned him, “you told me what you wanted. You need me, you won’t manage it without me.”
“William?” Brendon queried. “What’s he talking about?”
“Not now, Brendon!” Beckett snapped. “I warned you to keep your paranoia under control!”
“I wouldn’t need to if you didn’t give me cause to be paranoid!” Brendon yelled back, furious to be kept in the dark, again.

Shooting a furious glance in his direction, Beckett watched as Brendon shrank back as he realised just how out of turn he had spoken. Not only had he argued with his master, he had done so in front of their prisoners. The error was typical of the brash, hot-headed vampire, but was it forgivable?

“Master,” Brendon lowered his head; he knew that if his heart still beat, it would be racing now. “Master, please forgive my outburst.”

Beckett narrowed his eyes. Brendon had, again, made him appear foolish in the eyes of others, but now was not the time.

“I will deal with you later, Brendon, but for now, do as I order without question.”
“Yes, Master,” Brendon spoke quietly.

Pete grinned. Brendon really was the wreck that Patrick had painted him. He had always doubted Patrick’s observations of Brendon. Patrick had noticed things that Pete had been utterly oblivious to. He would have liked to have excused his lack of observation on Patrick’s more discerning human eyes, but he knew that Patrick had begun his notes long before his turning and even then, he hadn’t seen half the things that Patrick had. It was a gift. A gift that he sincerely hoped he hadn’t destroyed by turning him. Pete frowned bitterly at Beckett; he hadn’t just destroyed his life, he had effectively taken Patrick’s too and now he was trying to kill them all. He wouldn’t let him.

“No!”

Pete’s eyes widened as he found himself held back by Patrick. Now freed from the cage, Patrick had raced at speed to prevent Pete from running blindly into what he believed was a trap. Behind him, moving much more slowly, Andy finally reached the doorway, grimacing as he saw Simon’s crumpled form. The gash on his head and the bite marks on his neck told him all he needed to know. The man he had thought was a friend was dead.

“What do you mean, no? He’s going to kill them!” Pete argued, trying, surprisingly unsuccessfully, to push Patrick aside.
“No he isn’t,” he replied forcefully before turning. “Are you?”
Beckett smirked. “And what makes you think that?”
“Because you want us.”
“And I’ll get you,” Beckett replied confidently.
“No,” Patrick shook his head. “Not unless you let them go.”
“You’ll stand by and watch them die?”
Patrick stared back, his face unreadable. “It’s simple logic. If we come out, you have all of us. If we stay here, you may kill Joe and Andrea, but you won’t get us.”
“And you’ll take that risk?”
“The risk is all yours,” Patrick replied confidently.

Beckett took a deep breath. Patrick’s logic was undeniable and he couldn’t be sure it was a bluff. But he had two chances, he could test him quite easily.

“You’re saying that if I sink my fangs into this delicious young woman, that you would do nothing to help her?”
“No,” Patrick replied, tight-lipped. “Nothing.”
“Patrick!” Joe cried straining against Brendon’s hold on him. “Please! He’s going to turn her! Please! You can stop him!”

Beckett smirked cruelly, relishing Joe’s pain. Slowly, he allowed his fangs to extend and holding Andrea still, he lowered his head.