The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire

by Abigail Gibbs

  He sighed. Leading a double life had left him weary. It was a relief simply to walk in the forest as his true self, and not the cloaked figure the forest had learned to fear.

  The persona he had taken on in his younger years was gone. He’d taken to this life to become as much of a rogue as he could – a rebellion, perhaps, against authority – but it had backfired and the ultimate irony was he had become exactly what he had been trying to escape: a man, not a boy, ready to shoulder that authority.

  A rabbit scampered by his feet, but he ignored it, not thirsty after drinking from the doe earlier.

  He vowed, silently to himself, that the days where he would prowl the catacombs and the marshes would be only memories now. He had exacted enough revenge on the slayers and hunters of the forest.

  His mind reeled. He was sure it wouldn’t be long now before Michael Lee came for his daughter. It had been months and he was a man of strategy – this was the perfect opportunity to attack, whilst the Kingdom’s back was turned to face the Heroines. Violet Lee would not be forgotten, as she had forgotten them.

  Home was the best place for her.

  But she would never move on; never let go. How could she? A whole world-within-a-world, so near to her grasp: one she almost joined.

  But Varnley will be a worse place for her.

  The old part of the forest gradually became new as the cloaked figure – no longer cloaked – began to slow as he approached the clearing. And knowing she would hear him, he spoke in his mind, his voice more than familiar to her.

  Forgive me, Girly, please.

  Forgive me, Girly, please.

  I sat bolt upright. The air left my lungs in one breath, suddenly leaving my chest painfully empty. My eyes flew open and reluctantly the light flooded in, revealing the scene before me.

  Kaspar. It’s Kaspar.

  Ten pairs of concerned eyes drank me in and I immediately became aware of one set: emerald and belonging to a figure strolling back into the circle.

  He can’t be. How can he be?

  Kaspar, uncloaked, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black jacket, the collar still upturned, slipped past the fire, almost unnoticed by everyone but me. Their attention had returned to their work as they doused the fire and gathered empty beer cans … everyone’s attention but one: Autumn’s gaze still burnt into my back.

  Kaspar cannot be the cloaked figure. It just isn’t possible.

  My mind reeled. But my heart tugged. I knew the voice that had rung in my head just seconds before. It had called me ‘Girly’.

  Nobody else calls me that.

  But the rational side of me spoke the loudest. I believed in my eyes and my eyes had seen Kaspar and a cloaked rogue in the very same room just before we set off for London, a couple of weeks before. It didn’t make sense.

  My eyes bore into him as he rounded the remains of the fire. I scrabbled up.

  ‘Don’t stare, Girly, it’s not very polite.’

  I knew my gaze was one of an accuser, but I hoped I would see confusion in his face, or at least some sort of recognition at my anger; even the pleading eyes of a man who had just begged for my forgiveness. But there was nothing. His smirk faded and he shrugged his shoulders, setting off after Alex and Charlie who were already carving a path away from the brook.

  I watched him go, the outline of a figure swathed in a black cloak pursuing him towards the hill. In the figure’s arms was the limp form of a half-naked girl, neck pierced and dripping blood.

  Faintly, I saw a golden blur pass and I shook the image away, my eyes focusing to see Autumn Rose, flinging a cloak about her shoulders and hurrying to catch the others. Taking a deep breath I pushed the dead girl’s name from my mind and followed.

  Please God, don’t let it be Kaspar.

  * * *

  With one last painful step I broke from the trees into the clearing that was Varns’ Point, which continued to grow to a shallow mound of earth topped with an enormous boulder. The ground was covered in heath and was damp with an early morning frost. It crunched beneath my feet, gradually retreating from the light as the sun rose. That light slid along the boulder, twice as high as it was wide, casting a long shadow. Grooves were chiselled along its side – just large enough to be hand or footholds.

  Kaspar took a few steps back and surged forward, completely unfazed. With one leap, he stood at the top of the boulder, staring smugly down, his eyes almost daring the others to try and do the same.

  With a chuckle Alex followed, jumping four times his height and joining Kaspar at the top. Before long, the others were doing the same. Looking doubtful, however, Cain opted to climb and gestured for me to join him.

  Dubious, I approached. I wasn’t usually afraid of heights or falling; I was afraid of making a fool of myself. Unbuttoning my coat, I let it fall to the ground beside the bags. It would only get in the way. I knew I must look a state and that I would probably freeze in just a T-shirt and jeans, but the coat was too bulky to climb in.

  I slotted my foot into a crevice. Cain smiled encouragingly and began to hoist himself up, pointing out the best handholds as he did. When he reached the crest, he offered his hand, which I took gratefully. With one easy tug, he pulled me over the edge and onto my feet.

  The view was incredible. The sun rose in the distance to the east, a ball of fire floating just above the beginnings of the North Sea and the end of the Thames estuary. The water was not blue but black; the sky was completely cloudless, hovering over a strip of orange thrown out as far as the eye could see by the sun. A little closer, the Thames River snaked inland, marshes at its fringes which eventually gave way to pines which sloped uphill until they suddenly broke into bare and baron oaks, which in turn gave way to a blur of lighter green and white – the main grounds of the Varns’ mansion, far below us. Over the tops of the trees I could just make out a few of the pale towers.

  ‘Beautiful isn’t it?’ A voice said behind me.

  I didn’t need to turn to know it was Kaspar, stood unnaturally close … so close I dared not move for fear of touching him. ‘Something is wrong, isn’t it, Kaspar?’ I muttered, not taking my eyes off the glow the sun cast over the water.

  I felt his coldness withdraw a little. ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t lie,’ I chuckled flatly. ‘You’re crap at it.’

  There was a pause. Then I felt an icy chill on my back once more as he bent down to my ear. ‘You’ve heard my father talk of responsibility.’ It wasn’t a question – we both knew I had. ‘And you know that my responsibility lies with the Kingdom.’ I swallowed. ‘I don’t want to rule that Kingdom alone, Violet.’

  My heart skipped a beat and I cursed it, afraid he would hear the effect he had on that particular organ.

  ‘I want someone alongside me who knows when I’m lying, who will stand up to me and who knows me at my very worst. But what I want and my duty do not always coincide and—’

  I turned me head sharply to the right. ‘What is your very worst?’

  ‘You know what my worst is, Girly. You’ve seen it.’

  ‘No,’ I breathed.

  He couldn’t be. He just couldn’t.

  ‘I had known someone was tapping into my mind for a while and when Fabian told me about your dreams, it all slotted into place,’ he continued. His voice was a drone. It did not sound as though he were reasoning with something extraordinary. ‘It can’t be a coincidence considering you contain my blood; it’s unusual but not unheard of for dhampirs to be able to enter another’s mind.’

  His explanation fell on death ears. I couldn’t even bring myself to correct him on when the dreams started – before I became a dhampir.

  This man … this man I have learned to trust and have feelings for; the one I am prepared to give up humanity for is not the same brute that prowls the forest as a rogue. That monster was not the Prince of the Kingdom; the heir to the throne. But even as those thoughts crossed my mind, I could see the greying body of the girl he had killed at the fair, not so
different from the girl in the catacombs.

  ‘No,’ I repeated.

  ‘You don’t want to believe me, do you, Girly?’

  I shook my head and took a step back.

  His eyes fluttered down. ‘I wish you would accept me as a vampire and let go of this illusion that I’m something I’m not.’

  I took another step back. ‘Don’t play mind games with me, Kaspar.’ Don’t play games with my heart.

  ‘I’m not.’

  That was all I heard as the ground fell from beneath my feet and I screamed; screamed as a hand caught mine, mottled and scarred, a pair of amber eyes briefly fixing on mine before I was tumbling through the air, pulling Autumn Rose with me.

  But the ground did not hurtle towards us; neither did I land awkwardly. Instead, I came to a gentle rest on my back amongst the damp heath, not even winded. Autumn was already on her feet, completely unharmed. Gingerly, I propped myself up on my elbows and felt a pain shoot down my wrist, as though somebody had run a knife down my inner wrist. Supporting myself with the other arm, I forced myself to look.

  A jagged gash running from my hand to my elbow had opened up, coated in grit, stinging as though someone had poured vinegar over the length of my arm.

  I scrabbled to my feet just as Autumn grabbed my unharmed elbow and steered me away at such a pace my feet caught on the uneven tufts of grass, and I would have toppled if she had not been supporting me, seemingly unaware that I was almost dragging her to the ground. She shouted something over her shoulder to Fallon in her language and rounding the rock, I stole a glance back.

  The vampires seemed unaffected. They were grouped beside the edge of the forest, not even looking our way. So what’s the urgency? Tugging me along, she didn’t say a word until we came to a halt near the pile of coats.

  ‘Put pressure on your inner elbow,’ she said, indicating to my arm. I did so and she began running a finger down the length of the cut, making it sting even more.

  Muttering something under her breath, a pool of water appeared in her cupped hand, which she poured over my arm. I winced as the cold water trickled through the wound and looked away, clenching and unclenching my hand in an attempt to combat the stinging.

  ‘Was that you, back there? That stopped us from falling?’ I asked, trying to ignore the pins and needles sensation passing through my fingers.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, as a particularly painful stab shot through my arm.

  I mumbled a thank you through clenched teeth, silently wondering how she could have acted so quickly – she must have been standing nearby. Did she hear what Kaspar said?

  It bothered me, somehow, that she might know me and Kaspar were – well, I wasn’t even sure what we were – and I definitely wasn’t sure what we were if he was the cloaked figure. But how could he be? He was standing in the same room as a cloaked figure before we left for London. But doubt was entering my mind. Why would he claim to be the figure if he wasn’t? After all, the figure in the entrance hall could have been anyone.

  A minute passed and the tingling sensation increased. Needle after needle felt as though they were being thrust into my arm – but I didn’t mind, because as the sensation increased, the bleeding receded.

  More importantly, can I forgive him? He had killed so many during his night-time prowls: the rogues and hunters in the name of the Kingdom, but the image of the girl in the catacombs, Sarah, refused to leave my head. Yet I knew the answer to my question. It was no less sickening for it, but my heart had already forgiven him without ever consulting my rationality.

  What does that make me? What he did to her was worse than what Ilta did to me. He killed her.

  ‘You have dreams about a cloaked man, don’t you, Violet Lee? And a voice too.’ The sound of her voice so surprised me that I yanked my arm from her grasp. When it registered what she had said, I took two steps back until I hit the rock.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  She smiled. It wasn’t a reassuring smile, but something more sinister; a knowing smile, except her eyes betrayed her: they were as wide as mine and full of the same fear.

  Suddenly, she lurched forward and grabbed the hand of my injured arm, clutching it in two of hers. I looked down, astonished at the contact. As I did, I caught sight of my arm. Not a trace of the wound remained. My skin was completely unblemished, as though I had never fallen. Reluctantly, I looked back at her.

  ‘Oh, tell me you have a vague idea?’ Gone was her composed, unreadable face. Replacing it was a barrage of emotions – fear, desperation and urgency, formed in the shape of her wide eyes and parted lips.

  ‘Of what?’ I asked slowly.

  Her grip on my hand loosened and she took a step back. ‘Eighteen years ago, a second child was born to a rising MP and his wife, in Chelsea, London. That same night, a group of young vampires were out hunting in Westminster. Amongst them was Kaspar Varn, who that night, first heard a voice in his mind that would plague him for the next eighteen years.’ She paused and took another step back. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. ‘Almost from the moment you arrived at Varnley you started hearing a voice in your mind. You started having vivid nightmares too.’

  ‘Stop it,’ I breathed, pushing my back into the rock as though hoping it would swallow me.

  ‘You were that child, Violet Lee, and Kaspar is both the figure of your dreams as well as your voice, as you are his voice.’

  Through lowered eyes she gauged my reaction as she had done with Kaspar the day before. Behind her, I could see the light advancing towards us as the sun rose higher in the sky and emerged from behind the rock.

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘I’m not lying, Violet Lee.’

  I gripped the handholds in the rock. The cloaked figure I could believe. But to be a voice in his mind without knowing? For eighteen years? My whole life?

  ‘You’re lying because I would know if I were his voice.’

  She sighed. ‘Your voice is subconscious. You are not aware that your mind is tied to his, as he is not aware he is tied to yours. But I wish it were a lie, Violet.’

  Her voice trailed off into silence, pitying at the end. But the pity only doused my emotions, already tattered and on tenterhooks. My head fell into my hands, defeated.

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because there’s no time left.’

  ‘No time left for what?’ I raised my head out of my hands, slowly raising it up to meet her eyes, golden and full of sympathy.

  ‘To choose.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I breathed. That word again. Choose.

  Her eyes lowered to the ground, not raising her gaze once as she spoke, almost guiltily. ‘The first Heroine is indeed of noble blood, Violet. Neither is she is far from the control of the Athenean court; although as Heroine she takes precedence over even the greatest of Kings.’

  Last night she had no reason to curtsy … You forget yourself, Autumn. You are in the presence of royalty, remember.

  ‘Her grandmother died alone so she could awaken the nine, leaving her the last Sage of her family.’

  An innocent must die …

  ‘In short, Violet, she is the last of the fall.’

  In front of me stood not a girl bathed in sunlight, but a girl I had only just met, covered in a cloak and curtseying with the smallest of smiles in the gloom of the night.

  Autumn Rose, House of Al-Summers, Your Highness.

  ‘You,’ I whispered. ‘You’re the first Dark Heroine.’

  She nodded to the ground. For a minute I could only stare at her, before I closed my eyes, reeling in stupidity. It was so obvious. It had been staring us in the face the entire time.

  ‘I … why didn’t you say anything earlier? Why did you lie?’

  ‘Because … because …’ She wrung her hands together. ‘Because I have to doom another to the same path as mine. Now. Here.’

  ‘It is my duty to ensure you die before you ever fulfil your fate … You will have no choi
ce, Violet Lee. So do not weep, child, for I am saving you this night.’

  As Ilta’s words echoed and then died, a sort of quiet acceptance came over me. I let my head slowly fall back against the rock, running my fingers through my hair.

  ‘You know why I am here,’ she said softly.

  ‘Wherever the second Heroine goes, so does the first. No sane person would want to be stuck alone with a fate like that for long.’

  ‘But the only person I know who has died is Greg, that’s not two innocents,’ I reasoned quietly, clawing around for flaws in what I knew she was about to tell me.

  ‘Your brother was the first. Queen Carmen was the second.’

  ‘But I’m not a vampire,’ I muttered to the darkness behind my closed eyelids.

  ‘No birth, no time, no choice, Violet. The second Heroine was never meant to be born a vampire. But you must become one to fulfil the Prophecy and become the second Heroine. And soon.’

  The early morning dew was fast melting, as was the sun. Already it was becoming a feeble blotch behind dark, menacing clouds that almost certainly constrained the rain. I stared up at them, willing myself to remain calm.

  ‘I don’t want this. I can’t be a part of this. I don’t know a thing about the dark beings, Autumn.’ My voice sounded oddly serene compared to my inner turmoil. ‘Four months ago I didn’t even know this whole world existed. I won’t be dragged into this.’

  ‘You have no choice.’

  ‘You have no choice. You never did! Nobody chooses their fate when they get involved with dark beings. Nobody! Wake up, or die dreaming, Girly!’

  She pushed a few stray curls from her forehead, turning so that her back was to me. ‘If you choose to ignore the Prophecy, Violet, your two worlds will destroy each other, taking most of this dimension with them.’ She shook her head, as though clearing her mind. ‘Your father’s sin is surfacing and if you do not betray him as the prophecy states and pledge your allegiance to the vampires, then your family will die at the hands of the man you care for.’

  ‘I’ll hunt him down, kill his love first … suck his children dry … rape his daughters, make the fucking heartless bastard suffer.’