L.A. - 2001
There were sounds Angelus could really appreciate—the crunch of bone when just the right pressure was applied, a woman’s scream before it was cut off by fangs tearing into flesh, a choking sob as a victim begged for mercy. But this sound—though wailing as it were in evident displeasure—was one he couldn’t say he was particularly fond of.
And the kid just kept screaming, crying out for something—anything—to comfort him. Pacify him.
Angelus stared down at the infant in his crib. The child’s legs kicked in the arm, small fists pumping. Red-faced, he continued to wail. Oh, he could pacify him all right, but no. This was his child.
Their child. And that was supposed to mean something, wasn’t it? He hadn’t quite figured that out yet. He wasn’t sure yet to what end this child could serve, but there had to be something there. One day, he’d figure it out. All he had to do was wait. And so, that’s what he did as he stood there, staring down at Connor.
"Move," she commanded, the voice from behind him sounding far more aggravated than usual. And that was saying something too. Nudging him in the side, Darla moved by him to step up to the crib. She disliked the child’s squall as much as he did, but she seemed to tolerate it with something he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Like any new mother, she did so with a level of exhausted annoyance, lifting Connor into her embrace.
Almost right away, his cry began to quiet. Her narrowed eyes focused on Angelus. “Were you just going to let him cry again?” she asked, rocking the child with a stiff rocking motion. “God, I hate that sound.”
"He cries more when I pick him up." The answer was an excuse really.
Darla gave him a tight-lipped smile. “We bonded. Nine months with the parasite inside me. Yeah, we’re real close.”
He merely gave a soft chuckle at her remark, stepping back as she began to pace the floor. Soon, Connor was quiet in her arms, not asleep but simply content to look at Angelus with wide eyes.
Staring back at him, Angelus felt the smile pull at the corner of his mouth. He saw it.
Turning, Darla caught sight of him, her eyes rolling a bit. “What?”
Not speaking right away, Angelus stepped up behind her. His arms went around her, chin resting on her shoulder. “Just this feeling I get. Things are about to get very interesting. This kid… he’s gotta be special. Think of what we can do with him. What we can teach him. He’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
Again came that smile from Darla, and she looked down at Connor. “Oh, I think maybe you’re right, Angelus.”