Dinner With a Vampire

  I already knew who they were as I found myself staring at two pairs of green eyes.

  One pair stared back.

  A small smile upturned the corners of my lips and my limbs unconsciously became still. My heart jumped, warming and growing. But my mind was ahead of my heart. He was next yet I knew I could not touch him, and I tore my eyes away from him to the figure standing just behind, whose grey eyes were darting between his son and me. Kaspar met my gaze, caught my expression and whipped around to face his father.

  The King’s gaze was fixed on me and as I watched, his eyes fell through to black, tinged with red – deep, lustful, lecherous red. The palms of my hands burnt.

  Kaspar hissed and his stance dropped. Nobody but us would hear it over the music, but it grew as he backed towards me, on my tiptoes, about to be thrown to the centre of the ring.

  Abruptly, Sky let go and I fell, lurching towards Kaspar, who whipped around, lunging towards me as his father did the same, hissing and snarling. I opened my mouth to scream, fighting to try and regain balance, scrambling away, half on my knees in a futile escape from two predators who possessed a hundred times my strength and speed. Tears soaked the front of my dress as I tried not to watch, still scrabbling backwards. They came ever closer, both blurs, just a foot away when the King reached out and grabbed the lapels of his son’s jacket, tossing him away with a single hand.

  The King spoke whilst he reached down with the other hand, grabbing my arm and yanking me upright. His voice cut through the confusion, a low hiss at his other son, Sky. ‘He does not touch her, not even for this!’

  All eyes were on us and I stopped struggling, feeling the blood colour my cheeks, which I cursed, knowing it just added to the allure. Standing behind me, the King took the opportunity to grab both my wrists in just one of his hands, yanking them above my head. With the other he swept the hair from my right shoulder, a quiet snarl coming from between his lips.

  I could feel his breath, so cold it seemed to burn my skin as he moved closer, like the way my palms burnt. The vein in my neck throbbed uncontrollably, pounding against my skin as though it was desperate to escape, but I knew it was because my heart beat for two as it sped wildly out of control. A few tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and I scrunched them shut, not wanting them to see me cry.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he hissed in my ear, and reluctantly I prised them open. I felt like demanding to know why I had to watch them watch me suffer, but did not have to as the crowd to one side of us jostled and swayed, parting a little. Sky darted to the commotion where Cain had appeared, wrestling with Kaspar, whose expression was one of a man knowing he was fighting in vain: lips parted, fists clenched, brow lowered; hopeless. Without a word, Sky grabbed his brother’s arm as Cain did the same, both clearly worried that he might dive forward.

  I knew he wouldn’t. It was too late. His eyes met mine and I managed the briefest of smiles as the King tightened his grip around my waist, preparing to throw me back and bite. My eyes fluttered closed. I plunged towards the floor, his fangs sinking into my neck as the room, as wide, tall and high as a cathedral was filled with the echo of a scream, not faked, not acted, like they had instructed, but real. Very real.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Violet

  ‘You okay?’ Cain asked, pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbing at the wound that I could feel stitching itself together already. We were outside, the gentle breeze cooling the sweat that covered my body.

  ‘I think so.’

  It was a breathless reply and didn’t sound okay but it was all I could muster. The previous few minutes (although, according to the clock set high in the wall, it had been half an hour) had shaken me more than I expected and restored the fear of these creatures – although restored didn’t seem to be the right word, because it was a fear that had never truly existed.

  ‘Good,’ he said, stuffing the handkerchief into his trouser pocket. He looked like he had more to say, but I interrupted him.

  ‘Where’s Kaspar?’

  Cain shot me a weary glance. ‘Talking with the King. You would think two weeks in Romania would have taught him a lesson.’

  My ears pricked up. Romania?

  ‘Don’t feel too sorry for him,’ Cain replied. ‘He spent it boozing it up at Sky’s summer castle with his old mates from Vampirs.’

  Romania? So that is where Kaspar had been banished to over the previous two weeks; and there was something about ‘mates’ that made me uneasy – something told me they were mates of both genders. My heart sunk. He had wasted no time. Yet here I am, moping about, waiting for my Prince to return. It was pathetic. What did I expect? I’m just another notch on the post. After all, I’m human scum with a future I apparently don’t deserve.

  Yet I couldn’t help but remember the way he promised to not let anyone hurt me – the way he had pulled me across into his lap on the way to London. He seemed like he cared in those moments, but then he would flip and the jerk would reappear. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.

  ‘Do you want to go back in?’

  ‘No, you go ahead. I just want to be outside for a bit.’

  ‘Suit yourself. Shout if anything happens.’

  Walking around the pillar I slipped into the small alcove beside the doors, a smaller replica of the balcony above, tonight lit up with lanterns rather than torches.

  I knew being alone should unsettle me more than it did, but I needed time to think without being bombarded with more information.

  I had barely spared two thoughts about my dream the previous night. I knew I should have because whatever this Prophecy was, it was providing an excuse for my father to put his plan to get me out of here into action. And Valerian Crimson had said the same thing. Dark Heroine.

  I also knew how I should feel about that. Relieved. Hopeful. Exuberant. But I couldn’t reconcile those feelings – which I did feel, in moderation – with the growing attachment I had to Varnley which I had openly acknowledged to Kaspar by refusing the chance to leave.

  Yet what is there to justify me staying here? Most people despised me for sleeping with Kaspar – who I couldn’t touch in any case, which, according to Cain and Jag, hadn’t seemed to bother him that much in Romania. To top that off, I had a voice and nightmares about very real events. This place is sending me mad.

  I wiped my mind clean, focusing on the water trickling in the fountain as something pushed against my barriers and attempted to pry. It persisted for a minute, and then its touch fell away.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts, Girly.’

  I let out a deep breath and with the air went my worries. ‘My thoughts are mine, Your Highness, and are worth far more than a penny.’

  He chuckled. ‘There you go again, denying the Prince of the Realm. You really should learn not to do that.’

  ‘I did.’ I turned, coming face-to-face with Kaspar, finally, after fourteen long, arduous days. ‘But it landed the Prince of the Realm in Romania for two weeks, which I heard he was not too pleased about.’

  ‘No.’ He walked around me, leaning on the stone banister. ‘He was not too pleased. He finds Romania quite beautiful, but there happens to be something far more beautiful here, if a little annoying and very outspoken.’

  I flushed deep red and my stomach fluttered at the compliment. ‘Nice to see you too, Kaspar.’ I leaned against the banister beside him, careful to keep far enough away to not run the risk of accidentally touching him.

  ‘Did I ever say it was nice to see you, even as stunning as you look in white?’ He asked, quite sincerely, but his eyes twinkled mischievously and I mocked insult.

  ‘So rude! And white washes me out, it’s hardly stunning.’

  ‘Precisely. It makes you look like a vampire.’ He turned away as he spoke, but not before I caught the pink tinge in his eyes. Again, I knew the correct emotion to feel would be upset, but I couldn’t help but feel flattered. ‘But seriously, it is nice to see you. Turns out you’re what makes life fun,’ he said, c
huckling quietly.

  ‘Thanks. I guess I missed you too,’ I mumbled, hoping that the lanterns were dim enough for him not to see my blush, becoming permanent.

  ‘What?’

  My heart dropped. ‘I missed you,’ I repeated.

  He laughed. ‘I heard you, Girly, I just wondered if I could have that in writing?’

  I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that I never thought I would live to see the day when you would say that.’ He twisted so that he fully faced me and I smiled half-heartedly at his comment as I felt my eyes wander without permission down his torso to linger below the tails of his waistcoat.

  God, I’ve seen you naked.

  ‘Violet?’

  I shook my head and felt an embarrassed smile spread across my face. I shifted my gaze to the grounds. ‘How was Romania?’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his smirk fading away as his face became serious again. ‘Beautiful, as I said. I wish I could take you there; show you home. It would have been nice to have someone there who shares my passion for alcohol too.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘You drank a lot?’

  He sighed and his eyes dulled to a mint green. ‘It’s hard to know how much you’ve had when you’re drinking alone.’

  My heart and hopes lifted a little. So he didn’t go off with other girls?

  ‘Alone?’

  He returned to watching the grounds, glancing at me every few seconds, as though torn between what he should be looking at. ‘You seem surprised.’

  ‘I just thought …’

  He did not pressure me to finish my sentence and we lapsed into silence, yet the absence of talk was not an awkward barrier between us. Instead, it seemed comforting, knowing that we were at ease with the quiet. I closed my eyes for a while, listening to the odd chirp of a bird and the continuous pattering of water on water in the fountain. Even behind closed eyelids I could see a suspension of red and gold – the tiny flies floating above the pond and the tongues of flames in the lantern.

  ‘You’re cold,’ he whispered.

  I opened my eyes, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eyes. ‘Only a little.’

  He raised an eyebrow, brushing his own hair from his brow. ‘I can see the goose bumps on your arms.’ He removed his sash and unbuttoned his jacket, which he handed to me. I took it gratefully, careful not to touch his hand. Slipping it on I felt the immediate warmth around my shoulders, which had been frozen for most of the evening.

  I stretched my arms out. ‘It’s a little big.’ The sleeves were inches past my fingertips and the hem fell almost to my knees. ‘Thanks.’

  He nodded. ‘Walk with me?’

  He stepped around me and led the way down the steps, the few passers-by gawping. I could read the same thought in every face; wearing his jacket didn’t help to ease their shock either.

  ‘Damn, I have a stone in my shoe,’ I said as we stepped from the gravel onto the grass. Stopping, I reached down and pulled on the ribbons wrapped around my calf, undoing them. Slipping the shoe off, I hopped on one foot, emptying the flimsy thing of a pebble. Kaspar cocked his head, watching me with amused bewilderment.

  ‘Girly, you really are the very definition of elegance.’

  I faked a laugh before almost falling flat on my back whilst attempting to tie the ribbons back around my leg.

  ‘I would help you,’ he continued. ‘But I can’t touch you and besides, I’m rather enjoying the spectacle.’

  I had the feeling he was not looking at my foot, but rather my cleavage, exposed and not exactly supported by the thin material of the dress as I bent forward. Eventually I managed to slip the shoe back on, giving up on making the ribbons look tidy. Standing back up I marched off in front of him, heading towards the pond at the bottom of the grounds.

  In fairness, you were staring at his crotch a minute ago, my voice reminded me.

  Yeah, well noticed, voice.

  He quickly caught up, matching my pace but letting me silently brood, the half-smirk, half-smile on his lips. I reached the pond, entranced by the flies flitting about, coating the surface of the pond in a glittering cloud of dust that hummed softly.

  ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ Kaspar said, nodding towards the flies. ‘They only come once a year, for Ad Infinitum. It’s silly, but people say they feed on the joy.’

  ‘Wow,’ I murmured, not truly watching the flies.

  ‘Mother loved them.’

  The silence fell again and after a few moments I followed the edge of the pond to where yet more chains of roses fell from the trees, linked like paper-chains. They were identical to those inside, the petals darkest black, the leaves utterly white. I stretched out a hand, wanting to touch the petals – they looked to be made from velvet.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

  I snatched my hand back as Kaspar appeared right in front of me.

  ‘Why?’

  His face became incredibly sincere. ‘These roses are called Death’s Touch; they’re lethal to any human or dhampir who touches the petals.’

  I scrabbled back. ‘You’re kidding me?!’

  He shook his head. ‘Deadly serious. If you had touched one just now, you would be on the floor, snuffed by now.’

  My eyes widened and I took a few cautionary steps back. He chuckled, turning around and plucking one from the stem, admiring it in his hand, straitening the outer petals so they conformed to the perfect circle the rest of the flower created. ‘Here, smell one.’

  He offered it in the palm of his hand and I shook my head. ‘No way!’

  ‘Trust me, Violet,’ he sighed.

  I frowned but leaned down. I did not even have to be close to catch the scent.

  ‘What does that smell like to you?’ he asked.

  I scrunched up my nose. ‘Like rotting vegetables.’

  He nodded. ‘But to me,’ he lifted the flower to his nose. ‘They smell almost as sweet as you.’

  I snorted. ‘Is that some cheesy vampire pick-up line?’

  He feigned surprise. ‘Damn! Is it that obvious?’ He tossed the flower into the pond, where it floated like it was sat atop a lily pad and wiped his hand on his white shirt below the waistcoat, leaving a black smear.

  We started walking. ‘So if they are so deadly to humans and dhampirs, why is the whole place decorated with them?’

  He slowly exhaled as though it were obvious. ‘There are only two humans at Ad Infinitum and they are being constantly watched, so why not? Besides, they are the flower of the Kingdom. It’s what you see on that.’ He pointed towards the rose part of the coat of arms on his jacket that I was wearing. ‘They represent everything we are about. They’re lethal to humans, yet to us they are a thing of beauty and value. They even make perfumes that contain the scent, which can’t be much fun for any humans who catch a whiff.’

  I nodded. ‘So they are symbolic to vampires?’

  ‘No. They’re symbolic to the dark beings.’

  I shut my eyes, reminding myself not to be exasperated at his answer. Considering I knew nothing about the dark beings, that hardly meant anything.

  We had reached the fountain and Kaspar sat down on the edge, patting the stone rim beside him. I sat down, convincing myself to have the guts to get answers.

  ‘What are the Dark Heroines?’

  He turned to me, back straight, eyes wide and mouth agape. His eyes burnt black for a split-second. ‘Who told you about that?’ he demanded.

  My mind raced, trying to find a plausible excuse. I couldn’t tell him about the dreams; not if his father might find out. ‘No one. I heard some people talking inside about how the Athenea had found the first Sag-e-an girl or something.’ I sounded the word ‘Sagean’ out, barely remembering how the rogue had pronounced it in my dream.

  He relaxed a little, but alertness and curiosity continued to burn in his eyes. ‘Sagean. Spelt with an A, pronounced with an E. Sage-en,’ he repeated, breaking it down into sounds.

&nbs
p; ‘Sage … en.’ I attempted to imitated him, but found it difficult to make the same sound he did when he pronounced the last two letters.

  The corners of his lips upturned slightly. ‘Do you know who you overheard? Because no one but the council is supposed to know, let alone talk about it.’

  I shook my head, lying through my teeth. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t recognize them.’

  ‘Ah.’

  I sighed, letting my exasperation show this time. ‘You’re not going to tell me what the Dark Heroines are, are you? Or what the Prophecy of the Heroines is. Or why the vampires are so surprised. Or why the vampires are next.’

  He cringed. ‘You heard all of that?’

  ‘Please tell me. What harm can it do? It’s not as though I’ll tell anyone I know what it is.’

  He shook his head. ‘You do know that it’s been agreed by both the Vamperic council and an inter-dimensional council that you should have no knowledge of any other dimension but this one until you turn, right?’

  ‘That’s what that meeting was about when we went to London, wasn’t it? And that Fallon guy. Was he Sagean? He knew about this prophecy, didn’t he? How long ago did you find out that the girl had been found? Was it recently? I’ve not heard anybody mention this all before.’ I threw in the last couple of questions to test him; I knew the answer from my dream the night before, but I wanted to see how truthful he would be.

  ‘Slow down! I’ll tell you, okay?’ His eyes darted up and back down again, his hand running through his hair. My heart stopped, finally anticipating answers.

  ‘Right, where to begin?’ He took a deep breath, lowering his hand, and then launched into speech. ‘There are nine dimensions, parallel in almost every way; each is populated by humans as well as a much smaller number of dark beings, which I am not going to explain about.’ I was about to protest, but he cut in. ‘It’s worth more than my life, so no.’

  He carried on. ‘The humans of each dimension have never really got on with the dark beings, other than in this dimension, where, with the exception of government officials, you are all pretty much oblivious to our existence. But about five thousand years ago, a Sagean scholar and prophet, yes, Sage-en,’ he said as I sounded it out once more. ‘A Sagean scholar claimed to know of a future age. Sure of his own abilities, he wrote what he had foreseen down in his scrolls.’ He raised his gaze to meet my own, his eyes flecked with grey at the edge. ‘He knew about the world wars and climate change and even about the invention of the atomic bomb. He knew that the treaties struck between the dark beings and the humans would fail and that war would be an ever-looming prospect. He knew of our world, Violet. He knew where we would go wrong.’