The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire

by Abigail Gibbs

  ‘Kaspar,’ I whispered. He turned. ‘Please stay.’

  ‘What?’ he replied, going stiff.

  ‘Please stay. I-I don’t want to be alone.’ I closed my eyes.

  There was a pause where nothing penetrated the silence. But then the door clicked closed and I was sure he’d gone. The fear rose again, gripping me. I couldn’t be alone. The floor creaked. My heart stopped. The sound of footsteps muffled by plush carpet, and then silence. Slowly, I cracked open an eye.

  He stood there, leaned casually against the post of my bed. His dark, almost-black hair flopped lazily across his eyes – the sun-streaked tresses were fading now, as summer turned to autumn. The lack of light too had turned his skin more deathly, more haunting, although that may have been my eyes seeing more clearly.

  ‘You stayed.’ My eyes flitted up to his and he nodded slightly.

  ‘I’m not as heartless as you think.’

  There was silence.

  ‘You saved my life.’ I frowned. ‘Twice.’ He looked at the carpet. I looked to the sheets.

  ‘Yes, I guess I did. But if you die … your father, so …’

  I nodded hastily. Lips pursed shut, I averted my eyes out the window. I heard him shuffle slightly.

  ‘Thanks, though. If you hadn’t come, I don’t know what he would have done.’

  He waved his hand in the air, silencing me. ‘You remember all of it?’ He looked horrified.

  I nodded sombrely. ‘Everything, up until I passed out.’ My vision glazed over and a shudder of disgust passed through me as I remembered Ilta’s words to me.

  When you are alive to feel the shame, Violet Lee, feel yourself violated, it makes it far more fun, you see …

  But Kaspar had saved me from that fate – by the narrowest of margins. Kaspar had warned me away from him in the first place.

  I was stupid, so stupid for trusting Ilta; for letting him close to me. Kaspar had been right. I should have stayed away. But I let him dance with me. I left the ball alone. This is my fault.

  I buried my face in my hands, ashamed to let Kaspar see me breaking down like this. I should be strong. I should just accept it.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he said in a low voice. I looked up, surprised. His eyes were jet black and his fists were clenched. He had one arm wrapped around the post and was almost shaking. He might be staring at me, but he didn’t see me.

  ‘He will die for what he did to you. He’ll be ripped and torn and burnt until he is begging for mercy, which he won’t receive.’

  ‘Please, don’t say that,’ I breathed, as horrific images rolled through my mind. Bile rose in my throat and I gagged. His eyes snapped back to emerald.

  ‘Why? Don’t you want revenge?’

  I shrugged, his words bringing on a fresh wave of tears. To try to stop myself from descending into sobs, I focused on my clenched palms and shuffled under the sheets, noticing how hot the room was and how a layer of sweat and oil coated my skin. The mud and blood might have gone, but I felt unclean and not in a way I felt I could wash off, but I wanted to try anyway.

  ‘Is there any chance I could have a shower?’

  ‘Yes, of course. You can have a bath, if you’d prefer.’ His eyes turned a faint pink colour. I nodded. ‘I’ll get one of the maids to run you one then.’

  ‘Don’t go!’ I insisted.

  He smiled lopsidedly. ‘I won’t.’

  Closing his eyes for a moment, I was forced to look at closed eyelids. His lopsided smile, something I had rarely seen, remained on his lips. It was partway between a smile and a smirk.

  ‘They’re running one now, in the bathroom opposite.’ He jerked his head towards the door.

  ‘Thanks.’ I twisted, throwing the sheets off and caught a glimpse of the clothes I was wearing: nothing but a long baggy T-shirt.

  ‘I’ll get you some clothes,’ he said, disappearing into the wardrobe, appearing again a moment later, handing me a pair of leggings, a long, light wool jumper and fresh underwear.

  ‘You need to keep warm,’ he explained, facing away from me, looking out the French doors. I took the clothes, tucked them under my arm and inched off the bed, gripping the post for support. Feeling like a child trying to take her first steps, I got to the bathroom, blushing wildly at Kaspar’s fussing.

  ‘Will you be okay on your own? I will be in my room, if, well …’

  I nodded. Scented steam hit me as soon as I stepped in, wafts of lavender escaping into the corridor. The mirror was coated in condensation and all the fittings were dripping with water – so was my skin as I hung my fresh clothes over the rail furthest from the bath. Reaching to shut the door, I noticed that the key for the lock had been removed.

  I grabbed a towel from the rail and stripped down as quickly as I could, wrapping the towel around myself. I did not dare look at my body. I fiddled with the support on my wrist, struggling with the Velcro, which might as well have been glued shut.

  When I managed to free my wrist, I wiped a patch on the mirror, holding my breath. I did not want to do this. But I had to.

  I let the towel drop and gasped. Most of the smaller scratches and cuts had healed; so had the larger wounds on my right side, but on the left, five strips of shiny, mottled skin ran across my breasts and down my stomach. I touched the top of one of them, wincing as it stung, noticing that the scars on my neck that had been pinpricks were now each as big as my thumb. I sank onto the edge of the bath, covering myself back up again.

  His face, his laugh, his slick, oily voice filled my head, and I could feel him touching me once more, hear his panting breaths, smell the reek of blood.

  It is my duty to ensure you die before you ever fulfil your fate.

  And he’ll come back to finish me off. I know it. How can I carry on, knowing that? As I thought that, my eyes fell on something glinting on the side of the bath. A razor.

  Think about it, Violet. What do you have to go back to? What is there left for you?

  I had done it once. But I remembered the blood and how much there was of it; blood seemed too precious to go to waste now. Neither did I want to be sucked dry.

  All of a sudden, the door burst open and Kaspar flitted in. He brushed past me and I sprang up as fast as the pain in my stomach and my stiff legs would allow, tightening the towel.

  ‘Don’t.’ He snatched up the razor. ‘Ever.’ He turned and took another razor off a nearby shelf. ‘Think.’ He opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out several sharp objects. ‘About that.’ He shut the cabinet. ‘Again.’ He wheeled around to face me, eyes ablaze with a thousand different emotions. We glared at each other.

  ‘I wasn’t actually going to,’ I countered. I lowered myself back onto the edge of the bath, defensive and rechecking the mental barriers around my mind.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Just hurry up and get washed. I’m not taking my eyes off you any more.’ He left, slamming the door.

  ‘Fine!’ I shouted after him. I dropped my towel with a humph and slipped into the water. It sent tingles dancing along my spine, and I involuntarily closed my eyes.

  If he thought I was going to allow that stupid monster called Ilta Crimson get to me, then he better think again. At least, that’s what I’m going to kid myself into thinking.

  I flipped my wet hair back, having washed it twice and scrubbed my skin three times. My feet squeaked as I crossed the bathroom floor, but I didn’t feel clean.

  I opened the door to my room, to the sound of a tinkering guitar. He stopped as I walked in, his eyes following me as he sat on the edge of my bed. I walked towards the wardrobe, intending to find some warm socks.

  ‘I meant what I said about not taking my eyes off you,’ he called after me.

  I flopped down on the bed, unravelling the socks as I did. ‘You can sit down,’ I answered, as he jumped up, backing away a little. ‘I don’t bite,’ I continued. He chuckled and sat back down on the other side of the bed.

  ‘No, but I do. Nice socks, by the way,’ he said, raising an
eyebrow at my fluffy bright yellow socks and continuing to mindlessly twiddle with the strings on his guitar. ‘You seem perkier than earlier. Most people would have broken down if they were in your situation.’

  ‘I’m not most people. Why should I let it bother me? It happened and there’s nothing I can do about it …’ I trailed off, wondering why I was even telling him this.

  He continued to pluck the strings. ‘Hiding it isn’t always the best option.’

  ‘I’m not hiding anything.’ He just looked at me. ‘What is there to hide? I should have listened to you and realized he was bad news, but I didn’t. It’s my fault.’

  He set his guitar aside, meeting my eyes – it was a difficult gaze to break away from.

  ‘Don’t say that. It’s not true and you know it.’

  ‘It is. Anyway, why should you care?’

  ‘So you don’t want me to care? Well, in that case, I’ll just go.’ He slid off the bed and made for the door.

  ‘That isn’t what I meant. Please, don’t go!’

  He stopped, whirling back around. ‘I won’t go if you tell me why you’re so afraid of being alone.’

  I sighed, fiddling with the loose bits of fluff on my socks, wishing he would douse the fire because I was starting to sweat again.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Because he’s coming back,’ I muttered, feeling my cheeks become warm and not because of the fire.

  ‘He would be an idiot to do that.’ He laughed. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. He would never get across the border. Honestly,’ he added, seeing my face, which I knew was disbelieving. You didn’t hear what he said, I thought. You don’t know how he said it. He meant it. He wants me dead.

  ‘Stop laughing.’ I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. He, of course, caught it, and threw it back. It hit me square in the chest and I winced as it rubbed against the healing wounds. My eyes examined them, and so did Kaspar’s.

  ‘They’ll heal.’

  ‘I wish they would just go.’

  He frowned, picking his guitar back up. ‘They don’t look that bad, you know.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘They do.’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Do!’

  ‘Don’t!’

  ‘Get your shoes off my bed!’

  And so it continued for hours, until the sun began to set. Relentless, pointless, witty banter exchanged back and forth until both of us had used up just about every comeback in the dictionary of sarcasm. It masked what was brewing beneath.

  It was not until Kaspar reached across and switched my bedside lamp on that I realized how late it was.

  ‘Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?’ Kaspar asked.

  I yawned. ‘There’s your answer.’

  He nodded slowly, but the silence was broken by a vibrating buzz. Kaspar darted up like he had been stung, pulling his phone from his jeans pocket. His eyes scanned the screen for a moment, before he cursed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Look, I am going to have to go. There is something I have to deal with.’ He got up off the bed, slipping his phone into his pocket again.

  ‘Don’t leave me! I don’t think I can sleep if you go,’ I pleaded, holding back the tears. The darkness was closing in, and every corner of the room seemed menacing. Outside, the sound of the wind roaring through the trees was chilling, because I knew what those trees could hide now.

  His eyes widened. ‘I have to sort this out. I’ll be back as quickly as I can, okay?’ He flitted out the room. Feeling very exposed, I rushed to the basin in the wardrobe, turned on the tap and began splashing my hands and face with freezing water.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kaspar

  ‘Kaspar!—’

  ‘Charity,’ I sighed, finding her standing against the frame of my door, looking completely overdressed in a short black cocktail dress.

  ‘Where’ve you been, darling? Your mind is completely blocked off!’ she whined, walking up to me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I felt my eyes go red, as lust pumped around my body. Behave, Goddamn it.

  She placed her hands around my neck, and her lips brushed my ear. ‘I have something special planned.’ Her hands ran themselves down to my chest, pausing on my abs. ‘Something very special …’

  ‘What type of special?’ I grunted, forcing my voice to stay steady. Her fingers were tracing the waistband of my jeans, teasing me as I became hard. At least try to behave. She linked a finger through a belt loop, pulling me into my room.

  ‘I’ll tell you when you tell me where you were,’ she insisted and I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. My eyes moved to her breasts, so ample they bulged out of the dress.

  ‘How about you show me?’ I chuckled.

  What about Violet? my voice said, but I ignored it as I so often did.

  I pushed her back towards the bed and, in an awkward manoeuvre, she managed to pull off my shirt. Her hands traced my six-pack. I grabbed the material of her dress and attempted to discard it too, but she backed away.

  ‘Not until you tell me where you were.’

  I covered the distance she had created, nibbling her ear and sighed in exasperated defeat. ‘I was with Violet.’ I moved down to her neck, ignoring the smell of her blood, acidic and foul – although that may have just been her attitude.

  She backed off abruptly. ‘What? You were with that human piece of trash?’

  I shrugged. ‘She isn’t human, she’s a dhampir.’ I pulled her back into me, but she resisted again.

  ‘Why the hell were you with her? How could you do that to me?’ she screeched, backing away with a murderous glare that told me I was in deep trouble.

  ‘She has just been attacked, Charity! What did you expect me to do? Tell her to sod off?’ I replied, confused at her reaction.

  ‘So you stayed with her, instead of being with me, your girlfriend?’

  ‘Girlfriend?’ I mouthed, taking a step back myself.

  ‘That is normally what you call the girl you are in a relationship with!’

  ‘Relationship?’ I breathed, looking around dazed, like the walls could make more sense of this than I could. ‘I don’t recall us being in a relationship.’

  She shrieked in frustration, tearing at her hair extensions. ‘Kaspar, did you even bother to check Facebook? I applied to be in a relationship with you.’

  ‘You have Facebook?’

  Her eyes bulged and became black and she looked like she might launch herself at me. Which would be amusing.

  ‘Yes, I’m one of your friends, which you would know if you ever bothered to check your profile! You’re just trying to deny the fact that you cheated on me with that lying human slut who was apparently attacked. Well, if that’s true, she deserved it. I hate you!’

  I stood there for a full minute, feeling rather detached from my body. First, because we weren’t supposed to use social networking – too personal – and second, because I couldn’t take in what she had just said. But when I did, anger rose. ‘Take that back,’ I snarled, taking a step nearer to her.

  ‘Which bit? The “slut deserved it” bit, or the “I hate you” bit?’

  ‘The first bit. I couldn’t give a damn whether you hate me or not!’

  She flipped her hair. ‘We are over, Kaspar. So over!’ She straightened her dress and stormed from the room.

  ‘We were never under!’ I yelled after her. She didn’t answer.

  I couldn’t move, reeling in disbelief. I’ve just broken up with a girl who wasn’t even my girlfriend. There has to be an award for that.

  I shook my head and grabbed my shirt off the floor. How inconvenient. I’ll have to find an alternative source of amusement.

  I went back to Violet’s room, glad to see she had fallen asleep. I settled into the armchair beside her bed, frowning as I noticed the dampness of her clothes. I knew enough about humans from school to know she would get cold. I went to try to fold one of the sheets over her, but just then she winced in her sleep. I knew sh
e was thinking of him.

  Screw it: she can hate me for it later.

  I crept into the bed with her, careful not to disturb her position. In an instant her face relaxed, and her feet entwined with me. Her breathing became more regular, and her expression more serene.

  I reached over and kissed her on the back of her head. ‘Sweet dreams, Violet.’

  TWENTY-NINE

  Violet

  ‘You have three seconds to get your arm off me and move six feet away,’ I groaned, as the sun glared through the rather pathetic voiles.

  ‘Good morning to you, too,’ Kaspar chuckled, taking his sweet time to extract himself.

  My body was stiff and, as Galen had rightly predicted, sore. I groaned again, as he rolled me onto my back.

  ‘Come on, you need to eat something. Doctor’s orders.’

  ‘I don’t want to eat.’ I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. I never want to move from here, I thought.

  ‘You can’t not eat,’ he retorted, prodding my pillow.

  ‘Watch me. And since when did I let you sleep in my bed?’

  This time he prodded me. ‘Not a morning person, are you? Well, if you want to be alone, fine, I’m heading to the kitchen because I desperately need a drink.’

  ‘I don’t want to eat,’ I repeated.

  ‘You already said that,’ I heard him call, before the door slammed. I intended to stay where I was, but every sigh of the wind outside sounded like breath on the window, and the emptiness of the room began to bear down on me. So I jumped up, darting to the wardrobe and to the basin. I washed my face and brushed my teeth before grabbing the mouthwash. I was just pouring a mouthful into the cap when it slipped from my fingers, tumbling to the carpeted floor. Seeing it almost in slow motion, I stooped down and caught it – the right way up, not even a single drop spilled. I raised an eyebrow. I certainly couldn’t do that before.

  When I got downstairs, I found the entrance hall empty, both the doors thrown right back on their hinges. I paused, and then bolted across the marble expanse for the living room, like a child who runs up the stairs for fear of something running up behind them.