The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire

SEVENTEEN

Kaspar

Council meetings really are the best fun one can have, I thought bitterly, staring out the window at freedom. I sat at the far end of the table, hardly listening as my father debated with Ilta Crimson over something or other. His whole family were swindlers. They thought the sun revolved around them, but Ilta was the worst. Quiet, calm and controlled, he was always the charmer. It wasn’t hard to see how Girly was fooled by him. He was a snake. He would slither in, hiss at you until you were lulled and then he would rise up and bite you. Especially if you were much younger and female.

I suppressed my thoughts as the meeting progressed. My only consolation was the firm grasp on my leg, which came from Charity, who sat next to me. She looked up at me with adoring eyes, batting her eyelids, giving me the occasional seductive wink.

She began stroking the inside of my leg and I shuddered, enjoying the feelings of lust gushing through my system. I shuddered again, as her hand reached for the fly on my trousers.

‘Ghost pass over your grave, Kaspar?’ Ilta sneered from the other side of the room, false concern in his voice. His dark blue eyes were crinkled with amusement.

I snapped back from my trance. ‘No, quite fine, Ilta,’ I answered.

My father turned to glare at me. He gave the tiniest shake of his head and I knew he was perfectly aware of the whereabouts of Charity’s hand. I discretely slipped one of my own hands under the table and moved hers back down to my knee. She looked up at me for a moment and feigned hurt. But I knew she was faking it. She always faked it.

‘How do we even know Lee will retaliate with the help of the slayers? Until then, I refuse to even consider a plan of action,’ Lamair declared, placing his hands on the table as though that was that.

I sighed. We had been over this twice already.

‘My dear Lamair, as I said before, we have reliable sources,’ my father said.

Mutterings erupted throughout the room and I resolved to stare at the bookshelves of my father’s study, desperate to entertain myself. I wonder how long it would take to read all of them?

A while, my voice answered.

I gritted my teeth. Nobody asked you.

But you’re still talking to me, it sniggered, which always beat me. Voices aren’t meant to snigger.

Well, you get used to it after eighteen odd years, I finished and it fell silent. It never had an answer to that one.

‘Well then, I say we just kill her. That way all our troubles our over.’

‘No, Lamair. That will cause problems with the human government. We have to be diplomatic.’

‘Surely—’

A vampire I should probably know the name of cut in on him. ‘Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don’t understand why we are risking the Kingdom for the sake of one human girl? She is not worth a fight with the slayers and a possible loss of good relations with the human government, is she?’

There were several calls of ‘hear, hear’. I noticed Eaglen was unusually quiet. He leaned on his hands thoughtfully, but almost as soon as I looked at him, he raised his eyes to mine and I turned away.

‘This is the daughter of one of the greatest antagonists vampire kind has ever faced. We cannot afford to be rash, for fear of starting something we will long regret,’ my father explained. That one crucial fact – who she was, or rather, who her father was – still didn’t seem to have sunk into their thick skulls. My father turned to Eaglen. ‘You acted as one of our ambassadors to the human government most recently. What is your opinion?’

Eaglen sighed. ‘The government’s and, crucially, the Prime Minister’s stance on us is a no intervention policy – in other words, they turn a blind eye. The PM refused to see Ashton or I whilst we were in Westminster, although he sent his assurances that the investigation into the London Bloodbath will be quietly closed, alongside an insistence that he will not be so compliant in the event of a similar incident.’ He looked pointedly at me. ‘But he is not our problem. Lee is.’ He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, flicking his hair back behind his shoulders. ‘Lee cannot make a move yet. He has direct orders from the PM not to do anything to threaten national security – he is afraid that any attempt on our lives will result in retaliation and the consequent loss of innocent life.’

Cain, who had looked just as bored as I was, sat bolt up, a spark of alarm in his voice as he spoke. ‘It wouldn’t though, would it?’

Father shook his head.

Eaglen continued, pointing in Cain’s direction. ‘Ah, but we’re better off letting them think that, because as long as we do, Lee won’t do anything. To disobey that order would end his career.’

‘And no job, no power,’ I interjected, following his train of thought.

‘Exactly, young Prince!’ he exclaimed, turning his crooked left forefinger to me. ‘We must remember that Lee doesn’t just want his daughter back, he wants to bring about our downfall.’ That was no secret. Ever since the current government had come to power just over three years ago, Lee had made his intentions towards us quite clear. ‘But he is fully aware that bullets and guns won’t achieve that. So he needs the hunters and the rogues. But the hunters will not liaise with him unless he has power, influence and money.’

Or access to the taxpayer’s money, I thought.

‘The Prime Minister’s orders are to not intervene unless we make any threat or show of violence. If we do, Lee will be ready.’ A blanket of silence descended upon the room and wrapped itself around the table. ‘We need to avoid confrontation at all costs. We cannot kill the girl or force her to turn and we cannot threaten Lee or his government, and presumably the hunters, either.’

‘So what do we do then?’ was Lamair’s uneasy question. I was sure it was one almost every person sat in the room shared.

‘We do nothing and wait until the girl turns of her own free will,’ Father replied. There was a badly hidden gasp of shock. The idea of doing nothing was not one anybody in the room had entertained, clearly. But I gawped at my father for a different reason. If he thought Girly was going to turn anytime soon, he had another thing coming.

‘Quite agreed,’ Eaglen said. ‘We carry on as normal and give them no reason to suspect we know of their plans and no reason to attack. Meanwhile, I suggest we keep Miss Lee as sheltered as possible – there is no need for her to know of the other dimensions with all these prophecy rumours circulating among the Sage. A human knowing the strength of our seers and the Prophecy of the Heroines is the last thing we need. I’m sure the inter-dimensional council will agree to that.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘I also propose, Your Majesty, that to ensure her life and her blood are not threatened, you place the King and Crown’s Protection over her.’

Father nodded. ‘It will be implemented with immediate effect.’

‘I think it might be wise not to let her know of that, or about anything to do with her father,’ Sky added. ‘She strikes me as the sort who would act rashly if she knew. Neither do we want to give her any hope of leaving Varnley. She would never turn if that were the case.’

Finally, some sense!

My father cleared his throat. ‘Agreed. Nothing that we spoke of today leaves this room. But for now, this meeting is adjourned until we receive further news.’

I sighed again, exasperated. Chairs scraped and people began to leave the room, bowing and curtseying. Charity skipped off after them, exclaiming excitedly that she was going dress-shopping for the Autumnal Equinox.

‘Try and stay focused next time, Kaspar,’ my father scolded from the opposite side of the room, where he stood waiting for me to join him. Reluctantly, I walked towards him, waiting for the lecture I would undoubtedly receive.

‘Five hours, Father! Five hours and the only thing they could agree on was that Violet should choose to turn. You do know that is not going to happen, don’t you?’

‘That is where you come in, young Prince,’ Eaglen chuckled, limping around the table towards us. I frowned. Eaglen never usually had a limp. He might be old, but he wasn’t frail. Yet he had aged over the summer. His hair was whiter and the fine lines that appeared around the corners of his eyes didn’t disappear when he stopped laughing. ‘And you too, young Earl,’ he added, addressing Fabian who was hanging back, waiting for me. He came forward.

‘You two interact with her on a daily basis, correct?’ my father asked. We nodded.

‘Then you are what she sees of our kind. Give her a reason to believe we are not murderers, which is doubtless what she thinks. Convince her that this is a life she could lead,’ Eaglen instructed. Fabian nodded, almost eager, but I scowled, sceptic.

‘It will take more than that to persuade her to turn.’

Eaglen smiled. ‘When she has lost hope of returning home, it will take far less leverage.’

‘I won’t do it.’

I saw my father’s eyes become black. ‘You will do it. It’s time you took responsibility for your actions—’

‘And accept the consequences of my rash escapades. Yeah, I’ve heard it before. It’s getting old,’ I snapped, turning on my heel and leaving the room. The door slammed behind me with a satisfying bang. But it opened just as quickly again and Eaglen appeared, limping after me.

‘Give it a try,’ he said, patting me on the back. ‘You might have more in common than you think.’

I arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, walking away before I really did get angry. Yet I couldn’t resist one glance back at the aging, but by no means foolish, man, who watched me retreat with a knowing smirk.

What are you playing at, Eaglen? I thought. What do you know this time?

EIGHTEEN

Violet

August 28th brought my eighteenth birthday, and with it little reason for cheer. I had kept my mind well-guarded since I made the connection between the Queen’s death and my father, so nobody realized I was a year older.

I should have been out partying, enjoying my first legal drink of alcohol; instead I was stuck in a living room full of vampires, because sitting up seemed a better option than running the risk of experiencing yet another dream. They were endless, and I didn’t believe Fabian for a single second: they were real. The chill I felt every morning told me that.

Today was August 27th. Which meant tomorrow was the 28th and therefore my eighteenth birthday.

I propped myself up against a couple of pillows, staring blankly into space. I should be out partying, opening presents and having my first legal drink of alcohol, not lying on a bed in the middle of nowhere, afraid to go to sleep.

I glanced at the clock. It was going on 10 o’clock. I didn’t want to sleep. I was too afraid of the nightmares I knew would ensue as soon as I closed my eyes. But I had no choice. My body was screaming at me to close my eyes, disgusted at my self-neglect. I grabbed a tank top and a pair of shorts, changed, and climbed into bed. I tugged the sheets right up to my chin, hoping the warmth would somehow drive away the dreams. I reached over, switched the lamp off and closed my eyes.

But the dream never came. In fact, I fell into a peaceful, unbroken daze until far away I heard bells chiming, resonating in the stillness. Twelve times they rang.

I seemed to be rolling and rolling and I shivered. The air had got cooler. Far, far cooler. Then it went sub-zero.

I scarpered up, screaming at the top of my lungs. My sheets were plastered to my legs and I was soaked: someone or something had poured freezing cold water onto my bed. I heard several suppressed giggles and a low chuckle. In the darkness, I could just make out numerous dark figures surrounding my bed, outlined by the moonlight shining through my windows.

‘What the hell was that for?’ I screeched, shivering.

‘Happy Birthday!’ Fabian sung, a little too delighted.

‘Go away,’ I groaned, kicking the wet sheets off the bed and rolling over.

‘Nope!’

‘It’s midnight,’ I told my pillow, smothering myself with it. When they didn’t go, I grabbed the other pillow and chucked it at the end of the bed in their vague direction. Immediately, it came back my way and landed on my back. I sighed. ‘What?’ I snapped, sitting back up and placing the pillow in my lap. ‘Can’t you just let me sleep? I need sleep, remember?’

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I could see Fabian and Cain glancing at each other, grins widening. ‘Oh, I don’t think that will be possible,’ Fabian said.

‘To hell it is.’ I threw myself back down onto the mattress and was just curling up when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and hoisted me up.

‘Hey! Let me down you stupid leech!’ I screeched, pummelling Cain’s chest as he lifted me up into his arms. My legs flailed and I wriggled, but he wasn’t going to let go.

‘No,’ Cain replied, still grinning as we passed Kaspar, who held an empty bucket. I glared at him.

‘But–’

‘No.’

He sped up and everything hung in the air for a moment before we were downstairs and standing outside a room I didn’t recognize. He let me down and I landed on the cold floor.

‘You might think we are totally heartless, to quote you, “murderers”, but we’re not. And to prove that, we decided we can’t ignore your eighteenth birthday.’ A wicked grin spread across Fabian’s face, and my stomach clenched in dread, suspicious.

‘Bah, stop looking so worried,’ Cain said, placing his hand on the doorknob. ‘And don’t tell father. Or Sky or Arabella.’ With that he threw open the door, revealing a large living room I was sure I had never seen before. He stepped through and after Fabian motioned, I followed, apprehensive about what I was going to find. But my face soon lit up when I saw what was waiting on the table: bottles and bottles of alcopops. A bottle of champagne came flying my way and I caught it clumsily, almost dropping it.

‘Many happy returns and all that shit, Girly,’ Kaspar said, twisting off the cap on a bottle of vodka. ‘And crack open the bubbly before I get old, will you?’ he added, gesturing at the bottle in my hands. I shook it and pressed my thumb against the cork, holding it as far away from my face as I could get. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the resounding pop which turned out to be a bit more pitiful than I hoped. Instead of going flying, the cork landed at my feet and a few bubbles dribbled from the rim – not exactly Formula One worthy.

‘Less wasted, I suppose,’ Kaspar said, taking the bottle from my hands and pouring it into several glasses, handing them around. ‘To Violet’s first legal drink!’ He raised his glass in the air and everyone followed. I stared at mine and blushed. Kaspar must have already had a bottle or two. He was far too jolly. I watched as he downed the champagne in one and then picked up the bottle he had just opened, taking a long swig from that too. Staring at the label, I realized it was neat vodka.

Fabian turned to me, pouring himself a second glass of champagne from the bottle which was practically empty now. ‘How do you feel about getting totally wasted?’

Something in my brain said vampires, but something else far more overwhelming said alcohol. I smiled. ‘I’m totally fine about it.’

***

Four shots of vodka, three alcopops and two glasses of champagne later, I wasn’t so fine about it. My head was swimming, my vision wavering and my words didn’t sound the same as they did in my head. I clutched at another alcopop, sipping it whilst watching Felix down his sixth bottle of neat vodka – he wasn’t even tipsy. Stupid vampire tolerance to alcohol.

I leaned against the back of one of the sofas that had been pushed against the wall, swaying to some music I knew but couldn’t name. I watched as Lyla flirted outrageously with Fabian, her usual vodka and blood substituted for the straight stuff. Fabian kept flashing me looks and something seemed to click in my brain, but it didn’t register. I shook it off, refusing to think.

Kaspar sauntered over, but in my not-quite-with-it state, I didn’t give a damn. The clock struck one and he reached me, resting up against the sofa.

‘Hey babe,’ he slurred. ‘You’re not wearing very much, are you?’

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. ‘Eww, how much have you had to drink?’

He immediately sobered up and smirked. ‘Not enough.’

I inwardly groaned as I realized he was nowhere near as drunk as he was feigning.

‘Why are you doing all this?’ I asked, gesturing with my bottle towards the other side of the room where the pile of alcohol was growing as more people arrived. ‘My’ party seemed to be in full swing now – vampires I didn’t recognize were dancing at the far end of the room where a large space had been cleared; the lights had long been switched off and the music turned up. Girls and guys openly groped, kissed and grabbed, regardless of gender and watching them, I felt my heartbeat quicken.

‘You only turn 18 once,’ Kaspar said, shrugging and taking another mouthful from the litre bottle of vodka he was holding. I didn’t even want to know how many of those he had already emptied. ‘And besides, it’s an excuse to drink.’

‘And there was me thinking you did it out of the kindness of your heart.’

‘Do I look like a saint?’

I chuckled. ‘No, not really.’ There was an awkward silence for a few minutes, which I filled by sipping more of my drink and watching as Felix tugged at the skin on a girl’s neck with his fangs. Pressed up behind him, a guy, his features strikingly caught between male and female, groped at the chest and crotch of the fiery-haired man. I felt intrusive for looking, yet it was so alluring as his face split into a smile and he took their hands, leading them from the room. I felt my cheek burn and glanced to my right to see Kaspar’s gaze darting between the door and my face, a smirk playing on his lips. I stared at the floor, waiting for him to make a snide remark, but none came.

I tried perching on the back of the sofa but slid right back off again, struggling with the concept of balancing. ‘You know, next time you don’t have to use cold water to wake me up,’ I complained.

‘Oh, that was just a last minute idea of mine,’ he shrugged, taking another swig of the vodka. ‘We were going to shout boo, but you were snoring so loud you wouldn’t have heard.’

I went bright red and crossed my arms across my chest. ‘I don’t snore.’

‘Do.’

‘Don’t!’ I punched him on the arm, annoyed. He did the same back, but I wasn’t expecting it and the bottle I was holding fell to the floor, shattering. It splashed everywhere, drenching me. ‘Idiot! Now look at what you made me do!’ I exclaimed, gesturing at my tank top that was now dripping wet. I side-stepped out of the way of the glass, conscious of the fact I was bare foot. ‘Why is it that when I am around you, I always seem to get really wet?’

He laughed, side-stepping the glass too and pressing me up against the back of the sofa. ‘I generally have that effect on girls,’ he growled into my ear, clearly amused. For the second time that night, I groaned in embarrassment. ‘No need to be ashamed, Girly. It’s all natural,’ he added, stroking my flushed cheeks and then wrapping his arms around my neck.

‘Get off me, you manslut.’ I pushed him away and he stepped back, chortling.