(no subject)
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Stirring, Herbert lifted his head from William’s shoulder, drawing a sleepy grumble from the younger vampire. Herbert stroked his lover’s back lightly, then kissed his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, cheri,” he murmured.
William seemed oblivious.
Rising from the bed, Herbert drew on his robe, tying it loosely about his waist. He watched his lover indulgently, as William shifted and wrapped his arms around the pillow his face was buried in.
“Silly darling,” Herbert murmured, lifting his hair free of the collar of his robe. A mental touch rippled against his senses again, from somewhere deeper in the castle, and he nodded at once.
Leaving William sleeping, he walked into the moonlit halls. The castle was silent as always, though there were the first indications that activity was impending. He hoped Dawn would be too caught up with his father to notice it when she finally returned the following week.
After all, nothing ruined a surprise like the victim finding out beforehand.
Ascending two staircases and turning into a hall, he ran lightly down a flight of spiral stairs, his footfalls silent as he entered the brightly-lit corridor which presently housed young Matthias.
At the far end of the hall, the door was wide open.
Even from two dozen paces away, Herbert could smell the fear and tears.
His lips curled upwards as he walked along the hall. It seemed that father had done as he intended, then. It had been so long since Vati had allowed himself to indulge so and the boy was a perfect treasure. Herbert had no doubt that the boy had broken with such exquisite anguish that Vati would be composing poetry about it at once.
He was halfway into the room before the very sight froze him on the spot.
Spilled on his left side, facing the light, Matthias’ eyes stared glassily beyond the walls of the room. His face was bared, his hair pouring behind his naked body like a puddle of dark silk. Tears were slipping down his cheeks, pooling on the bridge of his nose and splashing silently onto the floor.
Father was truly an artist.
Matthias made no move to cover himself as Herbert approached, only flinching when Herbert touched his arm. Dark eyes blinked dazedly as Herbert drew him upright into a sitting position and smiled down at him.
“Come, my darling,” he whispered gently, helping the boy to his feet. Matthias did not fight, though he trembled on his feet. Herbert laid an arm around his shoulders, steadying him and felt the boy struggle not to lean into him. “All is well, darling. You may lean against me.”
Holding the boy, Herbert guided him through the halls and back into the more civilised parts of the castle. There was a room not too far from his own awaiting the boy. A fire had been lit in the grate and the warmth made the boy shiver violently, his eyes darting around fearfully.
Loosing his arm, Herbert stepped away from Matthias. “This is where you are to stay now,” he said, approaching the wardrobe and pulling the doors open. “Now, you will have to dress properly, you know. We cannot have you running about like a beggar, so you will wear these clothes.” He indicated to the neatly-arranged clothing. “Each piece fits with every other, so you shall not make any silly faux pas.”
Turning, he looked at the boy, who was standing where he had been left, staring at him, a bewildered look on his face.
“Darling, do shut your mouth. You resemble a codfish.” Matthias looked around the room, then back at him. “Yes, darling...” He approached, cupping Matthias’ face and kissed his lips lightly. “This is your room now.”
Taking the boy by the hand, he lead him unresisting to the wardrobe and selected nightwear for him; blood-red silk pyjamas in an oriental fashion. Helping the boy to dress, Herbert smiled approvingly.
He was aware of his father’s presence a moment before Matthias quailed and bowed his head. Long fingers grasped Herbert’s shoulder, and he smiled, moving aside to let his father see the boy once more.
“Isn’t he precious?”
“Fascinating,” his father replied, gazing down at the boy. His eyes were gleaming and the boy was snared by them, his lips parting. “Alone?”
Herbert reached out to smooth Matthias’ hair, and smiled indulgently. “His father is dead.” Von Krolock nodded, clearly aware of this. “And his mother will not come to find him.” He laughed at the memory. “Unless she finds herself first.”
A steel-grey brow arched. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes,” Herbert murmured with a cold smile. “She abandoned him to his father’s mercy to save her own skin. I felt she should be made aware of it.” He sighed, looking at the boy. “The human mind is such a fragile thing...”
His father lifted a hand to trace the perfection of the left of Matthias’ face. “Indeed,” he agreed quietly, then he lowered his head. Herbert bit his lip to hide his delighted smile as his father’s fangs cut into Matthias’ throat.
Matthias uttered a sound that was so intensely joyous that Herbert could not contain a laugh, the boy’s relief and wonder overwhelming the pain he might be feeling as the Graf drank from him.
As his father straightened up, Herbert patted Matthias on the head fondly. “There, my darling,” he said cheerfully. “Now, you must do your best to represent my Vati when you present yourself. You have our reputations to uphold now, too.”
Matthias nodded, the trembling smile on his lips quite beautiful in its fragility. His dark eyes were still fixed on the Graf, ensnared by von Krolock’s gaze.
“You will be a loyal child,” von Krolock murmured, his voice soft. His hands moved before him, a flat box emerging from nothing to rest in his palms. “As a sign of our favour...” He pressed it into the boy’s small hands.
Tentatively, Matthias’ eyes darted to Herbert, who nodded. “You may open it, little one,” he said, smiling at his father. When von Krolock’s fingers stroked through his son’s hair, Herbert beamed all the more.
Before them, Matthias carefully loosened the lid of the black box. He hesitated, and Herbert knew it was the uncertainty at receiving a gift. It happened so rarely that the boy was unsure if he was doing the right thing.
“Open it,” von Krolock murmured, verifying his son’s words.
Thin fingers slipped the lid off and Matthias peeked inside, his eyes going round. A pale hand lifted the object that lay on the dark fabric within. It was a delicate mask, the colour of which matched his skin tone perfectly. Dark eyes rose wonderingly to the Graf.
Stroking the boy’s hair back for his father, Herbert watched von Krolock’s long fingers claim the mask. The Graf lifted it into place and gently covered the boy’s disfigured features.
The mask hid him from his hairline to beneath his nose, though the fabric covered his cheeks to his jawline, leaving his mouth and chin uncovered. Elegantly-shaped openings revealed his eyes. His wondering fingers rose and touched his concealed cheeks.
“Handsome little ruffian,” Herbert said proudly, combing Matthias’ hair back behind his shoulders with his hand and holding it there as his father bound the ribbon into a knot to hold the mask in place.
“Indeed,” von Krolock murmured, sliding the back of two fingers against the mask, smoothing it. His hand was caught by the boy’s and Herbert could barely stop himself from smiling as Matthias fervently kissed von Krolock’s palm and fingers.
With his other hand, von Krolock lifted the boy’s face to his and bent to claim his lips again, and small, willing hands clutched at the front of the Graf’s shirt, the boy rising on his toes.
As his father’s mouth returned to the boy’s seeping throat and Matthias exultantly threw his head back, Herbert brushed a kiss across the boy’s masked cheek. “Good boy,” he murmured, then withdrew to leave father to his play.
8.8.8.8.8.8
“No seriously! She wanted to make me wear pastel pink!”
“With your complexion? Luv, don’t want to speak ill of the undead, but I think she’s trying to make you commit social suicide.” Spike’s eyes were on the road, but he still saw the look on her face. “What?”
“You have really been spending way too much time with Herbert,” she replied, but seemed to notice his lips twitching. With an expressive eyeroll, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Or you are totally playing me, huh?”
“Been a while since I had the chance,” Spike said, grinning. “And anyway, what respectable vampire overlord’s girlfriend wears pink? You should be in black. Black leather. With straps. And lots of chains. And a whip.”
“Again with the too much time with your boyfriend,” Dawn said, making a face at him. She leaned forward in the seat to peer up at the castle. “Any reason why the big ass didn’t come with you to pick me up?”
Spike hesitated before replying. Didn’t seem like the best of ideas to tell the Niblet that the Graf had a new shagtoy and Herbert was staying home to explain to him just why this human was not dinner or to be ignored.
“We’ve picked up a new lodger,” he finally replied.
“And since you took a while to say it, I guess not-your-average lodger, huh?” He noticed she was suddenly quieter, more serious. “So, what is it? Demon? Vamp? Some kind of icky goo-monster?” Her hesitation matched his. “Another of Johannes’ ex girl- and or boy-friends?”
Spike shook his head quickly. “He’s one of Herbert’s,” he said, which was true, even if he had seen the way the kid was trailing after the Graf now. Didn’t know what had happened to make the boy obedient, but something told him the new scar on the brat’s neck and the mask on his face had a lot to do with it. “Still human as well.”
“Herbert keeps humans?”
He could imagine what she was thinking. And in this case, she was probably right on the money. The kid wasn’t a normal kid, though, and if she tried to tell him that his life wasn’t normal, he’d probably think she was the crazy one.
Pulling into the side of the deserted road, he turned in the seat to look at her. “He’s had the boy since he was barely ten years old, love,” he said. “And before that, I don’t even want to know what the little bugger lived through, if living with vampires is the better option for him.”
Blue eyes stared at him. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
Spike met the steely look head on. “Yeah,” he said, then turned back and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. “And it isn’t my place to tell. Let’s just say the boy isn’t as harmless as he looks.”
The rest of the drive was in silence and Spike occasionally glanced at the girl. He could see the brooding look on her face as she worked over this new information, her arms resting across her middle.
Still, the minute the castle came into view, her smile returned and she rolled down the window. The wind whipped her hair around her face as she leaned out and looked up at the spiky silhouette against the night sky.
“Missed it?” he asked, rolling down his window and resting his arm on the edge.
“Oh yeah...” Dawn pushed her hair back from her face, glancing at him. “Kinda got used to being a Princess in a tower.” He laughed. “What about you? Bet you’d miss that big bed and your own Princess too.”
Turning through the automated gates, Spike smiled. “Too bloody right I would,” he agreed. “But if you let the sappy poofter know that, I’ll gut you.”
“And Johannes would toast you like a marshmallow,” Dawn replied, sticking her tongue out at him. “C’mon! Hurry up! I’ve been gone three months and now, you choose to forget how to use the accelerator?”
With an evil grin at her, he hit the accelerator so hard that she screeched a word he didn’t think she knew at him when the back of her head hit the seat. He slammed his foot on the brakes and, the car skidded to a halt, showering gravel across the ground.
Dawn was out of the car before it stopped moving, racing for the door. Shadows flared up from the ground, whirling around her, and she laughed, flinging her arms up and falling trustingly back.
Von Krolock emerged from the roiling darkness, catching her and scooping her up to kiss her warmly. She rose into his kiss, her fingers digging into his hair. When they broke apart, she laughed again, and hugged him fiercely.
“Missed you,” she whispered to him, touching his face.
“And I you, Liebling,” he replied softly, his lips so close to hers that they seemed to be touching.
From the front door, they were being watched, and Spike saw Herbert trying to hide a grin as Dawn spotted him. The look in her eyes turned dangerous as she saw the object he was waving at her.
It looked like a thick, black marker pen.
“You...” She turned and looked up at the Graf. “Excuse me for a second,” she said with almost genuine sweetness, slipping free of the circle of his arms. “I’m just gonna go and kick your son’s ass.”
Herbert laughed and darted back into the dark hall, closely followed by a streak of brunette fury and, from the sound of it, she tackled him. The clatter of the pen bouncing to freedom followed by the crash of a vase indicated that the battle was not about to be a civilised one.
“She is in good spirits,” von Krolock murmured, watching the doorway.
“Yeah,” Spike agreed, then added hastily, “Didn’t tell her about the brat.”
A dark eye flick towards him, a grey brow arching. “What of him?” Spike shrugged as eloquently as he could and he saw the Graf nod slowly. From inside the hall, there was a shriek so high and girly that it could only be Herbert. “Perhaps we should intervene, otherwise there may be permanent damage to the castle.”
Following him in, Spike had to bite the insides of his cheeks to smother a grin at the sight of Herbert sitting on the hissing, kicking and swearing Dawn’s middle, her arms pinned by her sides. He was humming cheerfully and deliberately drawing a moustache onto her face.
“You jackass!”
“I could write on your face, if you prefer, darling,” Herbert said happily, delicately adding little flourishes at each end of the moustache, then beaming down at her. “I think you look very dashing.”
“Screw dashing! I’m gonna kick your ass!”
“You keep saying that, my silly angel,” Herbert sighed, though he was very careful when he sprang to his feet and away from her. “But you simply don’t seem able to do it, do you?”
Scrambling to her feet, Dawn stomped towards him and pointedly kicked him in the shin, making a face. “Just you wait, Mister,” she said, jabbing him in the middle of his chest. “I’m gonna get you.”
“Says the girl with the most alluring moustache I have ever seen?” Grey eyes glinted with mischief. “Truly, darling, you should let your one grow, rather than shaving. It suits you marvellously.”
“That is it!”
Somehow, she managed to dodge his lunge and caught him around the middle. Only when he saw the upraised pen did he realise her intent and started to shriek like a petrified girl. “No! You wouldn’t dare, you vicious little witch!”
“Oh yeah?”
Spike covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as they swatted and slapped out at each other, each grabbing for the pen. They looked like teenage girls having a catfight and he felt the Graf’s eyes on him.
“You wouldn’t think they could fight like pros, would you?” he felt compelled to say and saw the Graf’s lips twitch.
“You heinous little bitch!” Herbert’s wail rang out. “That’s permanent ink!”
“Hey, you always said you wanted to try dark hair,” Dawn said, laughing. “So, now you look like you have a skunk on your head.”
Sitting upright, Dawn practically in his lap, he spat, “Malicious whore.”
“Slut!” she countered, pushing him away and getting to her feet. He kicked her ankle from under her. “Hey!”
With a hiss, Herbert rose and lifted his hands to his streaked hair. “I am not speaking to you ever, ever again, you brazen harlot,” he said, then swept towards Spike. “My darling, be honest. How terrible is it?”
“As impressive as her tash is,” Spike replied, managing with effort to keep his face straight.
“Vati!”
Von Krolock gazed impassively at his son. “You brought this on yourself, Kleines,” he said, then glanced beyond his son. “And I suspect this ardent display may be a cause for concern for some.”
Spike followed the Graf’s line of sight.
At the top of the staircase, hidden by the stone banister rail, Matthias was barely even visible. He crouched behind the decorative stone, his fingers curled around the edge of the rail, his dark eyes peeping warily between the columns.
“I’m guessing that isn’t Illyria,” Dawn said dryly.
Spike made a face. “Blue went off to commune with nature when we were away,” he said. “Apparently Alfred wasn’t entertaining enough for her. She thought watching trees grow might be more interesting.”
“So, not so much Alfred either, then? I mean, I know he was freaked by me...”
Herbert clapped his hands, motioning the boy down the stairs. “William, be a darling and tell that bitch that Alfred went to join Sarah in Mexico,” he said, extending a hand to the boy who was timidly walking down the stairs.
“He...”
“I heard,” Dawn replied. Spike glanced at her and saw her looking Matthias up and down. The boy was shorter than her, probably closer to her sister’s height, and looked so fragile and small compared to the rest of them. She waved her fingers at him. “Hi.”
Behind the mask he’d been wearing constantly for almost two weeks, Matthias’ dark eyes watched her warily. He dipped his head in wordless acknowledgement, his loose hair sliding against his shoulders, and looked askance at Herbert.
“Oh, don’t worry, darling, she’s just a silly girl,” Herbert sighed. He lifted Matthias’ hand and kissed his knuckles lightly. “You may run along if you wish. I wouldn’t force you to tolerate her.”
Without question, Matthias turned and darted back up the stairs. He vanished out of sight and Dawn rolled her eyes at Herbert. “You are such a manbitch sometimes,” she noted. “And just outta curiosity, why the mask?”
“Matthias has unfortunate scarring he prefers to conceal, Liebling,” von Krolock replied, laying his hands on her shoulders.
“Seemed kinda skittish too.” She lifted her hands to cover his.
“Once he is accustomed to you, he shall doubtless be less fearful,” the Graf replied drawing her back against his chest. His lips pressed to her temple, his silver hair slipping against her dark mane. “It pleases me to see you, Dawn.”
Pulling his arms around her, Dawn smiled. “Since I’ve already managed to make Herbert pout, I think it’s time for you-time,” she murmured, looking up at him. “Take me back to my room?”
Von Krolock smiled against her brow and at once, they vanished.
“You know,” Herbert said, petulantly examining his striped hair. “One of these days, I really do have to kill her.”
Spike grinned. “Just give me notice,” he said, pulling Herbert’s hands away from his hair. “I’d want enough time to sell tickets and get popcorn after all.”
Herbert scowled at him. “I shall most certainly kill you too,” he announced.
“But after I fix your hair, right?”
“Of course!”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It was four days since the strange girl had come to the castle.
Matthias couldn’t understand her. He liked girls. Most of the girls he knew were nice to him and were polite to Herr Herbert. Most of them smiled. He had never seen one who was loud like this one, or rude to Herr Herbert before, but this one was.
From behind drapes and couches, he had watched her. Occasionally, he hid in the staircases, watching from a distance, or crouched in the shadows, never daring to approach, especially when Herr Herbert seemed so upset.
She threw things at him and she drew on him and made him storm off in a fury, making William chase him to calm him. More times that Matthias could count, Herr Herbert threatened to kill the girl, who laughed at him and made faces in response.
Only the day before, Herbert had wrapped his fingers around her throat and shaken her until his Excellency had appeared from nothing. He hadn’t said anything, but Herr Herbert had looked annoyed and let the girl go.
It looked like his Excellency would be angry if Herr Herbert did anything to her, and with his hair still black, Herr Herbert was angry all the time. He kicked the girl when his Vati wasn’t looking, though she kicked back. They struck one another with cushions and made rude gestures, and Matthias has almost cried out from his hiding place when the girl had exclaimed, “Don’t make me pull a cross on you, Mister!”
Though she spoke a language he hardly knew, the word ‘cross’ was one Fridi had taught him in every language, in case anyone talked about them in the club. It was a thing that would hurt Herr Herbert and Matthias wanted to cry out in warning.
Herr Herbert had folded his arms and glared at her, telling her that he would kill her one day, but Matthias knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t make his Vati angry by doing anything to the girl that his Vati liked.
That was why Matthias was watching the girl from the doorway of her study room.
Pressed against the doorframe, he saw her moving from book to book. Her desk was covered in them and she was writing things down.
Blue eyes looked up at him suddenly and he almost dropped the knife that was hidden in the folds of his sleeve in surprise. He hadn’t made a noise, he knew he hadn’t, but she looked at him and she smiled.
He stared at her.
“Hey,” she said and waved her fingers at him. Her other hand was pushing her hair back and he saw a smudge of ink on her pink cheek. Her mouth was still smiling and her eyes looked so nice and happy. “You okay?”
He nodded wordlessly, his fingers tightening on the polished handle of the knife he had taken from the kitchens. He chewed on his lower lip as she reached to a shelf behind her, above her head, stretching up. Her shirt slid up and he saw a flash of skin, and felt himself grow warmer under the mask.
Dropping his eyes, he stared at the floor.
He remembered feeling warm like that before, when a girl at the club had taken his hand. He had shaken her off and fled to Fridi because he wasn’t sure if he liked it or didn’t like it. It wasn’t like the warm he felt when Herr Herbert and his Excellency bit him, or when they touched him. It was... different. Funny.
She coughed and he hesitantly raised his eyes, hoping there was nothing else that would make his skin all warm. She was watching him and she looked like she was thinking hard.
“You want something?”
He knew the words, but he couldn’t remember what they meant and shook his head, bowing quickly. He hoped she would go back to her work, so he could do what Herr Herbert could not.
Her brow wrinkled, but she nodded and returned to her books.
It was several minutes before she turned away from him, half-kneeling, half-sitting on one of the chairs and leaning over the papers. That didn’t help. Matthias couldn’t stop staring at the little stripe of skin that had appeared between her shirt and the top of her trousers.
Forcing himself to raise his eyes, he could see the skin of her neck and the curve where it met her shoulder through her hair. Her hair was falling over her shoulder again and he wanted to pull it back for her, but he couldn’t understand why. He had hair. Why would he want to touch hers?
Moving forward, he hesitated when she glanced back at him, smiling again.
“Do...” She frowned for a moment, then gestured to what she was studying and carefully said, “Will du sehe?”
The knife shivered in Matthias’ hand and he wrapped his other hand around it. He didn’t want to drop it or stop or lose his loyalty to Herr Herbert, but she was trying to use his words, even if they were not quite right. He bit his lower lip hard and made himself nod.
With a jerk of her head, she motioned him closer and he tiptoed nearer.
Turning back to the pages, she didn’t see him disentangle the knife from his sleeve, his hands shaking so much he could barely hold it anymore. She didn’t see his fingers hover near her hair.
Biting his bottom lip so hard that blood came, he swung the knife towards the pale skin he could see through her hair.
A cold hand caught his wrist in a grip like metal and he looked up in fright to find black eyes staring down at him.
“I,” the Graf whispered in a voice that made Matthias whimper. “Would not do that, were I you.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” the girl said, without looking up.
“Excuse me, Liebling.” The Graf’s eyes never left Matthias as he pulled the shadows around them and they left the girl alone.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It had been two hours since Johannes had showed up and stopped Herbert’s kid from killing her for no reason. Part of her knew she should be more shocked or angry or something, but too many years of Hellmouthy badness seemed to make it impossible for anything to really surprise her anymore.
Spike had warned her, anyway, especially after she had ended up wrestling with Herbert for ownership of the only hair-dryer in the castle, since his had blown a fuse after too much use.
As Herbert had crowed in triumph and raced off to his own rooms, carrying her hair-dryer as if he were wielding the Holy Grail, Spike had watched the doors for a few minutes, then grabbed her, pulling her aside when she tried to go after Herbert and her stolen property.
In the hall, she had heard the patter of bare feet and had looked at Spike, brows up.
“Watch your back, Nibs,” Spike had said quietly, still watching the empty door-frame. “That kid gets edgy when you do stuff to Herbert.” His eyes had darted to hers . “I’m not kidding.”
“What’s he going to do?” she had asked, then grinned. “Kill me?”
“Probably,” Spike had said. He had looked so worried that she had stopped laughing.
“He’s just a kid,” she had argued. “A human kid.”
“A messed-up, broken kid, love,” he had reminded her quietly. “Don’t forget it. If he gets you on your own, make sure you let the boss know, even if he’s just sitting in the corner and looking harmless.” She had stared at him for a long time. “Pet, even if you think I’m just being overprotective, just watch yourself.”
He’d left her then.
That had been two days ago, and it looked like he had been right.
Her books and notes had been forgotten and she’d continued to sit in the study, staring blindly at the pages in front of her.
As it had got darker, she’d returned to her room, sprawling on her bed and trying to think of something to write in a book that was meant to be a diary but was turning into nothing more than a doodle-pad.
She was still lying there when Johannes had brushed his mind against hers, letting her know he would be present in a moment, and she scrambled upright in time to see him step out of nothing, the boy in front of him. He was avoiding her gaze and flinched when her lover forced him forward a step.
“Matthias craves a moment, meine Liebe,” Johannes said quietly.
Though she didn’t go any closer to him, the boy flinched again. She could swear she heard a sound like the whimper of a kicked puppy. His eyes slowly rose to her and she could see the fear. “I-I-I am sorry,” he whispered, his hands clenching convulsively.
“Für was?” Johannes, though his voice was soft, growled the German, his fingers biting into the boy’s shoulder.
Staring at Dawn, the boy trembled like a leaf in the wind. She could see the dark stains spreading below his eyes, tears soaking the fabric of his mask, his lips pale and trembling. “I m-must not hurt meine Dame,” he whispered in halting English.
“That would be kinda good,” Dawn agreed in little more than a mumble, still staring at the boy. He looked so small and so frightened, his thin fists pressed, shaking, against his chest. “Why’d’he want me dead?”
Johannes murmured a question to the boy, who twitched as if struck. He whispered a response, staring hopelessly at Dawn, then lowered his head and covered his face with his hands.
“He says you kept doing harm to Herbert,” Johannes said, his expression softening a little. “Herbert is his protector and guardian. It seems he was afraid that you would incapacitate him permanently. He wanted nothing more than to protect Herbert.”
“Harm?” Dawn stared at the boy, thinking about her more recent interactions with her lover’s son. “I... guess we’re not exactly hugs and puppies, are we?”
“One can see why he would make such a mistake,” Johannes said, his fingers loosening their steely grip on the boy’s thin shoulder. He lowered his head and spoke quietly to the boy, who looked up, his expression horrified. He gabbled something and the Graf smoothed his shoulder soothingly. “He believed you and Herbert truly despised one another.”
Looking at the dark, shocked eyes behind the mask, Dawn shook her head. “Ich liebe Herbert,” she said honestly. Though her German wasn’t more than basic, there were some things that you just knew. “Herbert ist mein Freunde.”
Even with his mask on, the self-loathing and anguish was visible in the boy’s eyes and he sagged onto his knees in front of her, covering his head with his arms and stammering out words she couldn’t make out. She looked up at Johannes, frowning.
“He apologises a thousand times for his behaviour,” the Graf said softly over the boy’s trembling sobs. “Had he known that you cared for Herbert, he would never have tried to harm you.”
Looking down at the pitiful creature, Dawn bit her lip and slowly knelt down. She hesitated, then touched one of his arms, starting back when he recoiled from her touch. He scrambled back against Johannes’ legs, staring at her fearfully.
“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s okay.” Moving a little closer, slowly, she reached out and gently touched his arm. “Okay?” Dark eyes watched her, and she could feel him trembling. “Johannes, tell him I won’t hurt him.”
Her lover complied, drawing back a pace, leaving the boy at her mercy. Matthias’ eyes had dropped to stare at her hand, which was still resting on his arm, and she could see the doubt and fear. Withdrawing her touch, she tilted her head, waiting for him to look up at her. When he did, she smiled encouragingly at him.
“Hey,” she repeated, her voice just as soft. She could see the damp stain of tears had soaked through the lower half of the mask, leaving the fabric darker and dull. His lower lip was shivering. “Will du mein Freunde...”
“Sein,” Johannes murmured.
“Sein,” she finished, darting a grateful look up at him.
Returning her attention to Matthias, she could see him watching her and offered him a hand. He watched it suspiciously as if expecting to be struck, then tentatively touched her fingers with his own.
“Freunde?” she whispered, curling her fingers against his. What wasn’t quite a smile crept onto his trembling lips and he nodded. Slowly, in case she scared him, she moved closer to him, reaching out to gently take his other hand.
If anything, he trembled even more, staring uncertainly at her from behind the tear-sodden mask. It looked uncomfortably damp, tears dripping from underneath, and Dawn lifted one of her hand to wipe them. The mask was soaked. She lifted her other hand to pull it off and squeeze the moisture out.
With an audible yelp, the boy snatched her wrist, his fingers shaking around it until Johannes growled above them. Terrified eyes stared at her imploringly, a silent plea, as his fingers stiffly uncurled from her arm.
“Do as you wish, Liebling,” Johannes said quietly.
Watching those desperate, frightened eyes, Dawn shook her head and lowered her hand. “No,” she said, giving the shivering boy a reassuring smile. “If he doesn’t want me to, I don’t need to.” She squeezed his fingers lightly. “Okay?”
Matthias’ mouth fell open and she flinched in surprise when he moved suddenly. His small hands caught hers, and he bowed over them, pressing his forehead to the back of her palm. His whispered gratitude was barely louder than a breath, echoing in every tremulous sob that racked his body.
Dawn looked up, startled, at Johannes. His features mirrored her emotion, his eyes on the boy kneeling between them. She hesitated before withdrawing one of her hands from the boy’s shaking ones and gently touching his shoulder.
“Matthias,” she said. Dark eyes peeked up nervously at her. “It’s okay.” Smoothing his hair back, she repeated softly, “It’s okay.” He stared at her. One of his thin hands reached out and touched her cheek. She smiled as strongly as she could. “Okay?”
He darted a look at Johannes, who looked both surprised and amused, then nodded.
And to Dawn’s surprise, Matthias leaned forward quickly and kissed her cheek.
By the time she blinked and looked at her lover, Matthias had scrambled to his feet and scurried down the staircase, out of sight.
“Okay, what was that?”
Johannes extended a hand down to her, drawing her upright. “That is the assurance that you are now within the circle of the boy’s loyalty, Liebling,” he said with a small smile. “He will not harm you again.”
As she was taken in her lover’s embrace, part of her wondered if her time around vampires was why that thought wasn’t as unsettling as it should have been.
Stirring, Herbert lifted his head from William’s shoulder, drawing a sleepy grumble from the younger vampire. Herbert stroked his lover’s back lightly, then kissed his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, cheri,” he murmured.
William seemed oblivious.
Rising from the bed, Herbert drew on his robe, tying it loosely about his waist. He watched his lover indulgently, as William shifted and wrapped his arms around the pillow his face was buried in.
“Silly darling,” Herbert murmured, lifting his hair free of the collar of his robe. A mental touch rippled against his senses again, from somewhere deeper in the castle, and he nodded at once.
Leaving William sleeping, he walked into the moonlit halls. The castle was silent as always, though there were the first indications that activity was impending. He hoped Dawn would be too caught up with his father to notice it when she finally returned the following week.
After all, nothing ruined a surprise like the victim finding out beforehand.
Ascending two staircases and turning into a hall, he ran lightly down a flight of spiral stairs, his footfalls silent as he entered the brightly-lit corridor which presently housed young Matthias.
At the far end of the hall, the door was wide open.
Even from two dozen paces away, Herbert could smell the fear and tears.
His lips curled upwards as he walked along the hall. It seemed that father had done as he intended, then. It had been so long since Vati had allowed himself to indulge so and the boy was a perfect treasure. Herbert had no doubt that the boy had broken with such exquisite anguish that Vati would be composing poetry about it at once.
He was halfway into the room before the very sight froze him on the spot.
Spilled on his left side, facing the light, Matthias’ eyes stared glassily beyond the walls of the room. His face was bared, his hair pouring behind his naked body like a puddle of dark silk. Tears were slipping down his cheeks, pooling on the bridge of his nose and splashing silently onto the floor.
Father was truly an artist.
Matthias made no move to cover himself as Herbert approached, only flinching when Herbert touched his arm. Dark eyes blinked dazedly as Herbert drew him upright into a sitting position and smiled down at him.
“Come, my darling,” he whispered gently, helping the boy to his feet. Matthias did not fight, though he trembled on his feet. Herbert laid an arm around his shoulders, steadying him and felt the boy struggle not to lean into him. “All is well, darling. You may lean against me.”
Holding the boy, Herbert guided him through the halls and back into the more civilised parts of the castle. There was a room not too far from his own awaiting the boy. A fire had been lit in the grate and the warmth made the boy shiver violently, his eyes darting around fearfully.
Loosing his arm, Herbert stepped away from Matthias. “This is where you are to stay now,” he said, approaching the wardrobe and pulling the doors open. “Now, you will have to dress properly, you know. We cannot have you running about like a beggar, so you will wear these clothes.” He indicated to the neatly-arranged clothing. “Each piece fits with every other, so you shall not make any silly faux pas.”
Turning, he looked at the boy, who was standing where he had been left, staring at him, a bewildered look on his face.
“Darling, do shut your mouth. You resemble a codfish.” Matthias looked around the room, then back at him. “Yes, darling...” He approached, cupping Matthias’ face and kissed his lips lightly. “This is your room now.”
Taking the boy by the hand, he lead him unresisting to the wardrobe and selected nightwear for him; blood-red silk pyjamas in an oriental fashion. Helping the boy to dress, Herbert smiled approvingly.
He was aware of his father’s presence a moment before Matthias quailed and bowed his head. Long fingers grasped Herbert’s shoulder, and he smiled, moving aside to let his father see the boy once more.
“Isn’t he precious?”
“Fascinating,” his father replied, gazing down at the boy. His eyes were gleaming and the boy was snared by them, his lips parting. “Alone?”
Herbert reached out to smooth Matthias’ hair, and smiled indulgently. “His father is dead.” Von Krolock nodded, clearly aware of this. “And his mother will not come to find him.” He laughed at the memory. “Unless she finds herself first.”
A steel-grey brow arched. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes,” Herbert murmured with a cold smile. “She abandoned him to his father’s mercy to save her own skin. I felt she should be made aware of it.” He sighed, looking at the boy. “The human mind is such a fragile thing...”
His father lifted a hand to trace the perfection of the left of Matthias’ face. “Indeed,” he agreed quietly, then he lowered his head. Herbert bit his lip to hide his delighted smile as his father’s fangs cut into Matthias’ throat.
Matthias uttered a sound that was so intensely joyous that Herbert could not contain a laugh, the boy’s relief and wonder overwhelming the pain he might be feeling as the Graf drank from him.
As his father straightened up, Herbert patted Matthias on the head fondly. “There, my darling,” he said cheerfully. “Now, you must do your best to represent my Vati when you present yourself. You have our reputations to uphold now, too.”
Matthias nodded, the trembling smile on his lips quite beautiful in its fragility. His dark eyes were still fixed on the Graf, ensnared by von Krolock’s gaze.
“You will be a loyal child,” von Krolock murmured, his voice soft. His hands moved before him, a flat box emerging from nothing to rest in his palms. “As a sign of our favour...” He pressed it into the boy’s small hands.
Tentatively, Matthias’ eyes darted to Herbert, who nodded. “You may open it, little one,” he said, smiling at his father. When von Krolock’s fingers stroked through his son’s hair, Herbert beamed all the more.
Before them, Matthias carefully loosened the lid of the black box. He hesitated, and Herbert knew it was the uncertainty at receiving a gift. It happened so rarely that the boy was unsure if he was doing the right thing.
“Open it,” von Krolock murmured, verifying his son’s words.
Thin fingers slipped the lid off and Matthias peeked inside, his eyes going round. A pale hand lifted the object that lay on the dark fabric within. It was a delicate mask, the colour of which matched his skin tone perfectly. Dark eyes rose wonderingly to the Graf.
Stroking the boy’s hair back for his father, Herbert watched von Krolock’s long fingers claim the mask. The Graf lifted it into place and gently covered the boy’s disfigured features.
The mask hid him from his hairline to beneath his nose, though the fabric covered his cheeks to his jawline, leaving his mouth and chin uncovered. Elegantly-shaped openings revealed his eyes. His wondering fingers rose and touched his concealed cheeks.
“Handsome little ruffian,” Herbert said proudly, combing Matthias’ hair back behind his shoulders with his hand and holding it there as his father bound the ribbon into a knot to hold the mask in place.
“Indeed,” von Krolock murmured, sliding the back of two fingers against the mask, smoothing it. His hand was caught by the boy’s and Herbert could barely stop himself from smiling as Matthias fervently kissed von Krolock’s palm and fingers.
With his other hand, von Krolock lifted the boy’s face to his and bent to claim his lips again, and small, willing hands clutched at the front of the Graf’s shirt, the boy rising on his toes.
As his father’s mouth returned to the boy’s seeping throat and Matthias exultantly threw his head back, Herbert brushed a kiss across the boy’s masked cheek. “Good boy,” he murmured, then withdrew to leave father to his play.
8.8.8.8.8.8
“No seriously! She wanted to make me wear pastel pink!”
“With your complexion? Luv, don’t want to speak ill of the undead, but I think she’s trying to make you commit social suicide.” Spike’s eyes were on the road, but he still saw the look on her face. “What?”
“You have really been spending way too much time with Herbert,” she replied, but seemed to notice his lips twitching. With an expressive eyeroll, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Or you are totally playing me, huh?”
“Been a while since I had the chance,” Spike said, grinning. “And anyway, what respectable vampire overlord’s girlfriend wears pink? You should be in black. Black leather. With straps. And lots of chains. And a whip.”
“Again with the too much time with your boyfriend,” Dawn said, making a face at him. She leaned forward in the seat to peer up at the castle. “Any reason why the big ass didn’t come with you to pick me up?”
Spike hesitated before replying. Didn’t seem like the best of ideas to tell the Niblet that the Graf had a new shagtoy and Herbert was staying home to explain to him just why this human was not dinner or to be ignored.
“We’ve picked up a new lodger,” he finally replied.
“And since you took a while to say it, I guess not-your-average lodger, huh?” He noticed she was suddenly quieter, more serious. “So, what is it? Demon? Vamp? Some kind of icky goo-monster?” Her hesitation matched his. “Another of Johannes’ ex girl- and or boy-friends?”
Spike shook his head quickly. “He’s one of Herbert’s,” he said, which was true, even if he had seen the way the kid was trailing after the Graf now. Didn’t know what had happened to make the boy obedient, but something told him the new scar on the brat’s neck and the mask on his face had a lot to do with it. “Still human as well.”
“Herbert keeps humans?”
He could imagine what she was thinking. And in this case, she was probably right on the money. The kid wasn’t a normal kid, though, and if she tried to tell him that his life wasn’t normal, he’d probably think she was the crazy one.
Pulling into the side of the deserted road, he turned in the seat to look at her. “He’s had the boy since he was barely ten years old, love,” he said. “And before that, I don’t even want to know what the little bugger lived through, if living with vampires is the better option for him.”
Blue eyes stared at him. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
Spike met the steely look head on. “Yeah,” he said, then turned back and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. “And it isn’t my place to tell. Let’s just say the boy isn’t as harmless as he looks.”
The rest of the drive was in silence and Spike occasionally glanced at the girl. He could see the brooding look on her face as she worked over this new information, her arms resting across her middle.
Still, the minute the castle came into view, her smile returned and she rolled down the window. The wind whipped her hair around her face as she leaned out and looked up at the spiky silhouette against the night sky.
“Missed it?” he asked, rolling down his window and resting his arm on the edge.
“Oh yeah...” Dawn pushed her hair back from her face, glancing at him. “Kinda got used to being a Princess in a tower.” He laughed. “What about you? Bet you’d miss that big bed and your own Princess too.”
Turning through the automated gates, Spike smiled. “Too bloody right I would,” he agreed. “But if you let the sappy poofter know that, I’ll gut you.”
“And Johannes would toast you like a marshmallow,” Dawn replied, sticking her tongue out at him. “C’mon! Hurry up! I’ve been gone three months and now, you choose to forget how to use the accelerator?”
With an evil grin at her, he hit the accelerator so hard that she screeched a word he didn’t think she knew at him when the back of her head hit the seat. He slammed his foot on the brakes and, the car skidded to a halt, showering gravel across the ground.
Dawn was out of the car before it stopped moving, racing for the door. Shadows flared up from the ground, whirling around her, and she laughed, flinging her arms up and falling trustingly back.
Von Krolock emerged from the roiling darkness, catching her and scooping her up to kiss her warmly. She rose into his kiss, her fingers digging into his hair. When they broke apart, she laughed again, and hugged him fiercely.
“Missed you,” she whispered to him, touching his face.
“And I you, Liebling,” he replied softly, his lips so close to hers that they seemed to be touching.
From the front door, they were being watched, and Spike saw Herbert trying to hide a grin as Dawn spotted him. The look in her eyes turned dangerous as she saw the object he was waving at her.
It looked like a thick, black marker pen.
“You...” She turned and looked up at the Graf. “Excuse me for a second,” she said with almost genuine sweetness, slipping free of the circle of his arms. “I’m just gonna go and kick your son’s ass.”
Herbert laughed and darted back into the dark hall, closely followed by a streak of brunette fury and, from the sound of it, she tackled him. The clatter of the pen bouncing to freedom followed by the crash of a vase indicated that the battle was not about to be a civilised one.
“She is in good spirits,” von Krolock murmured, watching the doorway.
“Yeah,” Spike agreed, then added hastily, “Didn’t tell her about the brat.”
A dark eye flick towards him, a grey brow arching. “What of him?” Spike shrugged as eloquently as he could and he saw the Graf nod slowly. From inside the hall, there was a shriek so high and girly that it could only be Herbert. “Perhaps we should intervene, otherwise there may be permanent damage to the castle.”
Following him in, Spike had to bite the insides of his cheeks to smother a grin at the sight of Herbert sitting on the hissing, kicking and swearing Dawn’s middle, her arms pinned by her sides. He was humming cheerfully and deliberately drawing a moustache onto her face.
“You jackass!”
“I could write on your face, if you prefer, darling,” Herbert said happily, delicately adding little flourishes at each end of the moustache, then beaming down at her. “I think you look very dashing.”
“Screw dashing! I’m gonna kick your ass!”
“You keep saying that, my silly angel,” Herbert sighed, though he was very careful when he sprang to his feet and away from her. “But you simply don’t seem able to do it, do you?”
Scrambling to her feet, Dawn stomped towards him and pointedly kicked him in the shin, making a face. “Just you wait, Mister,” she said, jabbing him in the middle of his chest. “I’m gonna get you.”
“Says the girl with the most alluring moustache I have ever seen?” Grey eyes glinted with mischief. “Truly, darling, you should let your one grow, rather than shaving. It suits you marvellously.”
“That is it!”
Somehow, she managed to dodge his lunge and caught him around the middle. Only when he saw the upraised pen did he realise her intent and started to shriek like a petrified girl. “No! You wouldn’t dare, you vicious little witch!”
“Oh yeah?”
Spike covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as they swatted and slapped out at each other, each grabbing for the pen. They looked like teenage girls having a catfight and he felt the Graf’s eyes on him.
“You wouldn’t think they could fight like pros, would you?” he felt compelled to say and saw the Graf’s lips twitch.
“You heinous little bitch!” Herbert’s wail rang out. “That’s permanent ink!”
“Hey, you always said you wanted to try dark hair,” Dawn said, laughing. “So, now you look like you have a skunk on your head.”
Sitting upright, Dawn practically in his lap, he spat, “Malicious whore.”
“Slut!” she countered, pushing him away and getting to her feet. He kicked her ankle from under her. “Hey!”
With a hiss, Herbert rose and lifted his hands to his streaked hair. “I am not speaking to you ever, ever again, you brazen harlot,” he said, then swept towards Spike. “My darling, be honest. How terrible is it?”
“As impressive as her tash is,” Spike replied, managing with effort to keep his face straight.
“Vati!”
Von Krolock gazed impassively at his son. “You brought this on yourself, Kleines,” he said, then glanced beyond his son. “And I suspect this ardent display may be a cause for concern for some.”
Spike followed the Graf’s line of sight.
At the top of the staircase, hidden by the stone banister rail, Matthias was barely even visible. He crouched behind the decorative stone, his fingers curled around the edge of the rail, his dark eyes peeping warily between the columns.
“I’m guessing that isn’t Illyria,” Dawn said dryly.
Spike made a face. “Blue went off to commune with nature when we were away,” he said. “Apparently Alfred wasn’t entertaining enough for her. She thought watching trees grow might be more interesting.”
“So, not so much Alfred either, then? I mean, I know he was freaked by me...”
Herbert clapped his hands, motioning the boy down the stairs. “William, be a darling and tell that bitch that Alfred went to join Sarah in Mexico,” he said, extending a hand to the boy who was timidly walking down the stairs.
“He...”
“I heard,” Dawn replied. Spike glanced at her and saw her looking Matthias up and down. The boy was shorter than her, probably closer to her sister’s height, and looked so fragile and small compared to the rest of them. She waved her fingers at him. “Hi.”
Behind the mask he’d been wearing constantly for almost two weeks, Matthias’ dark eyes watched her warily. He dipped his head in wordless acknowledgement, his loose hair sliding against his shoulders, and looked askance at Herbert.
“Oh, don’t worry, darling, she’s just a silly girl,” Herbert sighed. He lifted Matthias’ hand and kissed his knuckles lightly. “You may run along if you wish. I wouldn’t force you to tolerate her.”
Without question, Matthias turned and darted back up the stairs. He vanished out of sight and Dawn rolled her eyes at Herbert. “You are such a manbitch sometimes,” she noted. “And just outta curiosity, why the mask?”
“Matthias has unfortunate scarring he prefers to conceal, Liebling,” von Krolock replied, laying his hands on her shoulders.
“Seemed kinda skittish too.” She lifted her hands to cover his.
“Once he is accustomed to you, he shall doubtless be less fearful,” the Graf replied drawing her back against his chest. His lips pressed to her temple, his silver hair slipping against her dark mane. “It pleases me to see you, Dawn.”
Pulling his arms around her, Dawn smiled. “Since I’ve already managed to make Herbert pout, I think it’s time for you-time,” she murmured, looking up at him. “Take me back to my room?”
Von Krolock smiled against her brow and at once, they vanished.
“You know,” Herbert said, petulantly examining his striped hair. “One of these days, I really do have to kill her.”
Spike grinned. “Just give me notice,” he said, pulling Herbert’s hands away from his hair. “I’d want enough time to sell tickets and get popcorn after all.”
Herbert scowled at him. “I shall most certainly kill you too,” he announced.
“But after I fix your hair, right?”
“Of course!”
8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It was four days since the strange girl had come to the castle.
Matthias couldn’t understand her. He liked girls. Most of the girls he knew were nice to him and were polite to Herr Herbert. Most of them smiled. He had never seen one who was loud like this one, or rude to Herr Herbert before, but this one was.
From behind drapes and couches, he had watched her. Occasionally, he hid in the staircases, watching from a distance, or crouched in the shadows, never daring to approach, especially when Herr Herbert seemed so upset.
She threw things at him and she drew on him and made him storm off in a fury, making William chase him to calm him. More times that Matthias could count, Herr Herbert threatened to kill the girl, who laughed at him and made faces in response.
Only the day before, Herbert had wrapped his fingers around her throat and shaken her until his Excellency had appeared from nothing. He hadn’t said anything, but Herr Herbert had looked annoyed and let the girl go.
It looked like his Excellency would be angry if Herr Herbert did anything to her, and with his hair still black, Herr Herbert was angry all the time. He kicked the girl when his Vati wasn’t looking, though she kicked back. They struck one another with cushions and made rude gestures, and Matthias has almost cried out from his hiding place when the girl had exclaimed, “Don’t make me pull a cross on you, Mister!”
Though she spoke a language he hardly knew, the word ‘cross’ was one Fridi had taught him in every language, in case anyone talked about them in the club. It was a thing that would hurt Herr Herbert and Matthias wanted to cry out in warning.
Herr Herbert had folded his arms and glared at her, telling her that he would kill her one day, but Matthias knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t make his Vati angry by doing anything to the girl that his Vati liked.
That was why Matthias was watching the girl from the doorway of her study room.
Pressed against the doorframe, he saw her moving from book to book. Her desk was covered in them and she was writing things down.
Blue eyes looked up at him suddenly and he almost dropped the knife that was hidden in the folds of his sleeve in surprise. He hadn’t made a noise, he knew he hadn’t, but she looked at him and she smiled.
He stared at her.
“Hey,” she said and waved her fingers at him. Her other hand was pushing her hair back and he saw a smudge of ink on her pink cheek. Her mouth was still smiling and her eyes looked so nice and happy. “You okay?”
He nodded wordlessly, his fingers tightening on the polished handle of the knife he had taken from the kitchens. He chewed on his lower lip as she reached to a shelf behind her, above her head, stretching up. Her shirt slid up and he saw a flash of skin, and felt himself grow warmer under the mask.
Dropping his eyes, he stared at the floor.
He remembered feeling warm like that before, when a girl at the club had taken his hand. He had shaken her off and fled to Fridi because he wasn’t sure if he liked it or didn’t like it. It wasn’t like the warm he felt when Herr Herbert and his Excellency bit him, or when they touched him. It was... different. Funny.
She coughed and he hesitantly raised his eyes, hoping there was nothing else that would make his skin all warm. She was watching him and she looked like she was thinking hard.
“You want something?”
He knew the words, but he couldn’t remember what they meant and shook his head, bowing quickly. He hoped she would go back to her work, so he could do what Herr Herbert could not.
Her brow wrinkled, but she nodded and returned to her books.
It was several minutes before she turned away from him, half-kneeling, half-sitting on one of the chairs and leaning over the papers. That didn’t help. Matthias couldn’t stop staring at the little stripe of skin that had appeared between her shirt and the top of her trousers.
Forcing himself to raise his eyes, he could see the skin of her neck and the curve where it met her shoulder through her hair. Her hair was falling over her shoulder again and he wanted to pull it back for her, but he couldn’t understand why. He had hair. Why would he want to touch hers?
Moving forward, he hesitated when she glanced back at him, smiling again.
“Do...” She frowned for a moment, then gestured to what she was studying and carefully said, “Will du sehe?”
The knife shivered in Matthias’ hand and he wrapped his other hand around it. He didn’t want to drop it or stop or lose his loyalty to Herr Herbert, but she was trying to use his words, even if they were not quite right. He bit his lower lip hard and made himself nod.
With a jerk of her head, she motioned him closer and he tiptoed nearer.
Turning back to the pages, she didn’t see him disentangle the knife from his sleeve, his hands shaking so much he could barely hold it anymore. She didn’t see his fingers hover near her hair.
Biting his bottom lip so hard that blood came, he swung the knife towards the pale skin he could see through her hair.
A cold hand caught his wrist in a grip like metal and he looked up in fright to find black eyes staring down at him.
“I,” the Graf whispered in a voice that made Matthias whimper. “Would not do that, were I you.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” the girl said, without looking up.
“Excuse me, Liebling.” The Graf’s eyes never left Matthias as he pulled the shadows around them and they left the girl alone.
8.8.8.8.8.8.8
It had been two hours since Johannes had showed up and stopped Herbert’s kid from killing her for no reason. Part of her knew she should be more shocked or angry or something, but too many years of Hellmouthy badness seemed to make it impossible for anything to really surprise her anymore.
Spike had warned her, anyway, especially after she had ended up wrestling with Herbert for ownership of the only hair-dryer in the castle, since his had blown a fuse after too much use.
As Herbert had crowed in triumph and raced off to his own rooms, carrying her hair-dryer as if he were wielding the Holy Grail, Spike had watched the doors for a few minutes, then grabbed her, pulling her aside when she tried to go after Herbert and her stolen property.
In the hall, she had heard the patter of bare feet and had looked at Spike, brows up.
“Watch your back, Nibs,” Spike had said quietly, still watching the empty door-frame. “That kid gets edgy when you do stuff to Herbert.” His eyes had darted to hers . “I’m not kidding.”
“What’s he going to do?” she had asked, then grinned. “Kill me?”
“Probably,” Spike had said. He had looked so worried that she had stopped laughing.
“He’s just a kid,” she had argued. “A human kid.”
“A messed-up, broken kid, love,” he had reminded her quietly. “Don’t forget it. If he gets you on your own, make sure you let the boss know, even if he’s just sitting in the corner and looking harmless.” She had stared at him for a long time. “Pet, even if you think I’m just being overprotective, just watch yourself.”
He’d left her then.
That had been two days ago, and it looked like he had been right.
Her books and notes had been forgotten and she’d continued to sit in the study, staring blindly at the pages in front of her.
As it had got darker, she’d returned to her room, sprawling on her bed and trying to think of something to write in a book that was meant to be a diary but was turning into nothing more than a doodle-pad.
She was still lying there when Johannes had brushed his mind against hers, letting her know he would be present in a moment, and she scrambled upright in time to see him step out of nothing, the boy in front of him. He was avoiding her gaze and flinched when her lover forced him forward a step.
“Matthias craves a moment, meine Liebe,” Johannes said quietly.
Though she didn’t go any closer to him, the boy flinched again. She could swear she heard a sound like the whimper of a kicked puppy. His eyes slowly rose to her and she could see the fear. “I-I-I am sorry,” he whispered, his hands clenching convulsively.
“Für was?” Johannes, though his voice was soft, growled the German, his fingers biting into the boy’s shoulder.
Staring at Dawn, the boy trembled like a leaf in the wind. She could see the dark stains spreading below his eyes, tears soaking the fabric of his mask, his lips pale and trembling. “I m-must not hurt meine Dame,” he whispered in halting English.
“That would be kinda good,” Dawn agreed in little more than a mumble, still staring at the boy. He looked so small and so frightened, his thin fists pressed, shaking, against his chest. “Why’d’he want me dead?”
Johannes murmured a question to the boy, who twitched as if struck. He whispered a response, staring hopelessly at Dawn, then lowered his head and covered his face with his hands.
“He says you kept doing harm to Herbert,” Johannes said, his expression softening a little. “Herbert is his protector and guardian. It seems he was afraid that you would incapacitate him permanently. He wanted nothing more than to protect Herbert.”
“Harm?” Dawn stared at the boy, thinking about her more recent interactions with her lover’s son. “I... guess we’re not exactly hugs and puppies, are we?”
“One can see why he would make such a mistake,” Johannes said, his fingers loosening their steely grip on the boy’s thin shoulder. He lowered his head and spoke quietly to the boy, who looked up, his expression horrified. He gabbled something and the Graf smoothed his shoulder soothingly. “He believed you and Herbert truly despised one another.”
Looking at the dark, shocked eyes behind the mask, Dawn shook her head. “Ich liebe Herbert,” she said honestly. Though her German wasn’t more than basic, there were some things that you just knew. “Herbert ist mein Freunde.”
Even with his mask on, the self-loathing and anguish was visible in the boy’s eyes and he sagged onto his knees in front of her, covering his head with his arms and stammering out words she couldn’t make out. She looked up at Johannes, frowning.
“He apologises a thousand times for his behaviour,” the Graf said softly over the boy’s trembling sobs. “Had he known that you cared for Herbert, he would never have tried to harm you.”
Looking down at the pitiful creature, Dawn bit her lip and slowly knelt down. She hesitated, then touched one of his arms, starting back when he recoiled from her touch. He scrambled back against Johannes’ legs, staring at her fearfully.
“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s okay.” Moving a little closer, slowly, she reached out and gently touched his arm. “Okay?” Dark eyes watched her, and she could feel him trembling. “Johannes, tell him I won’t hurt him.”
Her lover complied, drawing back a pace, leaving the boy at her mercy. Matthias’ eyes had dropped to stare at her hand, which was still resting on his arm, and she could see the doubt and fear. Withdrawing her touch, she tilted her head, waiting for him to look up at her. When he did, she smiled encouragingly at him.
“Hey,” she repeated, her voice just as soft. She could see the damp stain of tears had soaked through the lower half of the mask, leaving the fabric darker and dull. His lower lip was shivering. “Will du mein Freunde...”
“Sein,” Johannes murmured.
“Sein,” she finished, darting a grateful look up at him.
Returning her attention to Matthias, she could see him watching her and offered him a hand. He watched it suspiciously as if expecting to be struck, then tentatively touched her fingers with his own.
“Freunde?” she whispered, curling her fingers against his. What wasn’t quite a smile crept onto his trembling lips and he nodded. Slowly, in case she scared him, she moved closer to him, reaching out to gently take his other hand.
If anything, he trembled even more, staring uncertainly at her from behind the tear-sodden mask. It looked uncomfortably damp, tears dripping from underneath, and Dawn lifted one of her hand to wipe them. The mask was soaked. She lifted her other hand to pull it off and squeeze the moisture out.
With an audible yelp, the boy snatched her wrist, his fingers shaking around it until Johannes growled above them. Terrified eyes stared at her imploringly, a silent plea, as his fingers stiffly uncurled from her arm.
“Do as you wish, Liebling,” Johannes said quietly.
Watching those desperate, frightened eyes, Dawn shook her head and lowered her hand. “No,” she said, giving the shivering boy a reassuring smile. “If he doesn’t want me to, I don’t need to.” She squeezed his fingers lightly. “Okay?”
Matthias’ mouth fell open and she flinched in surprise when he moved suddenly. His small hands caught hers, and he bowed over them, pressing his forehead to the back of her palm. His whispered gratitude was barely louder than a breath, echoing in every tremulous sob that racked his body.
Dawn looked up, startled, at Johannes. His features mirrored her emotion, his eyes on the boy kneeling between them. She hesitated before withdrawing one of her hands from the boy’s shaking ones and gently touching his shoulder.
“Matthias,” she said. Dark eyes peeked up nervously at her. “It’s okay.” Smoothing his hair back, she repeated softly, “It’s okay.” He stared at her. One of his thin hands reached out and touched her cheek. She smiled as strongly as she could. “Okay?”
He darted a look at Johannes, who looked both surprised and amused, then nodded.
And to Dawn’s surprise, Matthias leaned forward quickly and kissed her cheek.
By the time she blinked and looked at her lover, Matthias had scrambled to his feet and scurried down the staircase, out of sight.
“Okay, what was that?”
Johannes extended a hand down to her, drawing her upright. “That is the assurance that you are now within the circle of the boy’s loyalty, Liebling,” he said with a small smile. “He will not harm you again.”
As she was taken in her lover’s embrace, part of her wondered if her time around vampires was why that thought wasn’t as unsettling as it should have been.