The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire

by Abigail Gibbs

  Again I just nodded. I couldn’t do anything else; I didn’t trust my tongue as a knot of nerves squeezed its way through my gut.

  ‘That is settled then.’ He took a step forward. ‘He also asked my permission to court you.’

  I seized up. Frozen, like a wide-eyed rabbit in headlights, I held my breath, waiting for his next sentence. I knew that if the King said no, that meant no, Heroine or not.

  ‘My son is quite devoted to you, My Lady, quite devoted, and I have known that for some weeks now. I have no shame in admitting that it was therefore a great evil of me to try and prevent such an attachment from forming.’

  I loosened the tiniest amount, but inside, I was begging him for a straight yes or no answer – the rest could come later. He, on the other hand, seemed intent on explaining himself first.

  He clutched his hands behind his back, beginning to pace between his spot near the door and the bed. ‘Rumours began circulating about the Heroines months ago, long before you came to us. Those that believed the Prophecy, myself included, knew that the time was coming and that the first Heroine would be found sometime in the next decade or so. Although I never expected it to be this early,’ he added in an undertone, speaking to himself more than me. ‘Long ago, in the time that the Prophecy was written, my wife had a most extraordinary experience—’

  ‘I know,’ I interrupted. ‘She met Contanal.’ He froze mid-pace, looking quite astounded. ‘I read your wife’s letter to Kaspar. It was an accident. It was how I found out about being tied,’ I admitted, feeling sheepish and trying to make my voice sound apologetic.

  ‘You know about that?’

  ‘I know about it all. I know you knew the Prophecy was coming true and acted out of love for your family, and to protect me and the Kingdom. I understand now.’

  His eyes couldn’t find any one spot to settle as he absorbed that information and I watched in utter astonishment as something extraordinary happened: he held out his hand for me to shake.

  ‘I lost my temper, My Lady. I punished you and Kaspar for events beyond your control. And for that I am deeply sorry.’

  His hand never dropped in all the minutes that I allowed to pass, and I knew that his determination was how he showed his sincerity, because Kaspar did the same thing – he never gave up. So I reached forward, and I forgave him.

  A gale whipped up, passing the windows which shook in such a violent way that I could see the frames vibrating and one of the French doors burst open, springing back on its hinges and slamming against the frame, letting the fierce wind in. I jumped and clutched my chest in surprise, breaking our handshake; the King’s abruptly hunched shoulders relaxed and he pulled both doors shut, pulling the drapes straight again.

  He sighed and he was back to his explanation. ‘And then in the early hours of yesterday morning, we were alerted to the fact the borders between this dimension and the first had been reopened, quite out of the blue. Athenea utterly denied involvement, claiming that it had been the first Heroine. Yet just a few hours later, the guards notified us that two Sage had entered the three mile border around Varnley, and were headed towards Varns’ Point. Immediately, I ordered the lighting of the beacons to call the council, but it had the reverse effect. Only minutes after the beacons were lit, I received a note.’

  I averted my gaze as he pulled something from an inner pocket of his jacket – a crumpled piece of paper, which he passed to me. I took it, smoothing out the folds.

  ‘Do you recognize the hand in which it is written?’ I watched as he retreated to lean against the bedpost, looking every bit the picture of his son. I blushed, realizing what I was thinking and quickly redirected my attention to the note.

  It was crumpled, but scrawled across the centre of the sheet was a message, short and to the point:

  Michael Lee struck bargain with hunters for Carmen’s death. Lee girl knows. Pierre will confirm.

  It was not signed and I didn’t recognize the handwriting: it was scribbled and half-joined, like it had been written in a hurry. It was unsettling to know that I was holding the same piece of paper that whoever had betrayed me held. It was more unsettling that they had specifically mentioned that I knew. They must have anticipated what would happen to me once the King found out about my father’s involvement, which meant somebody didn’t want me around. I swallowed.

  ‘No,’ I answered, handing it back.

  ‘Sadly, you are not the only one,’ he sighed. ‘It did occur when I first read it that it was a hoax, but the dates of when your father’s party was elected into government and the time in which my wife visited Romania correlated. Pierre confirmed it within the hour and the rest I am sure neither of us wishes to voice.’ Even in the relative gloom of the room, I could see his eyes were tinged with pink and as he caught me looking, I turned away, pretending I hadn’t seen.

  ‘But you are a Heroine, and it does not do to dwell upon that which has been. I told Kaspar that I have no objection to his courtship of you, although I recommend you keep it a private affair at least until December. I see that you have given Eaglen orders concerning your father, and I am most grateful that you intend to remove him from our company until we leave for Athenea.’ He bowed, but stopped when he reached the door, turning back with the first true smile I had ever seen on his lips. ‘Welcome to my Kingdom, Lady Heroine.’

  Just twenty-four more hours of being human.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Violet

  The cold wrapped itself around my skin, caressing my sides and shoulders like hands. Drops of rain bounced off the stone of the railing in front of me as I took shelter in the alcove beside the main entrance. Like tiny shards of shrapnel, they ricocheted in all directions, some hitting my shirt, flecked with damp; I caught others in my outstretched hand, turning it, watching, mesmerized, as the drops raced across the curvatures of my palm and fingers before eventually plummeting to the ground. Puddles were forming on the grass, reduced in patches to mud as the rain fell as hard as when it had started, six or seven hours before.

  ‘In a relationship with a girl I would have been an idiot to let go yesterday. A girl who breathed life into this place. A girl who made me feel again. How natural.’

  I wrapped my arms around my middle, imagining his arms around me, his touch, his breath …

  I shivered, more from the temperature than anything else, but I savoured the feeling. I wanted to remember how the night air felt cold, and how my toes curled so they wouldn’t touch the frosty stone, and how each drop of rain on my skin felt like it left an icy burn behind.

  ‘Mine,’ a voice sighed in my ear. ‘All mine,’ it repeated, as arms clad in a black shirt placed themselves just above my own arms, wrapped around my middle. His hair tickled my neck as he bowed his head, his lips finding a vein and kissing their way down it, hands not hesitating to find my breasts, pulling me closer as I cupped his hands with my own and took an involuntary step back into his chest.

  ‘You like that, Girly?’ he purred, closing his fists a little. I answered him with a sigh as the air in my lungs rushed out in one breath. He chuckled and his hands slid down, finding the hem of my shirt and pulling it up. I didn’t have time to react and in a second, he was holding it, leaving me standing in my bra and jeans.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I crossed my arms over my chest, very aware that the double doors to the left were thrown wide open to the night. He didn’t answer, but grabbed my hand and led me out towards the strip of light cast along the steps by the lamps in the entrance hall. I only just had time to kick my feet into the pair of dolly shoes I had placed aside. ‘Are you crazy? Somebody will see!’

  ‘Let them see,’ he replied, leading me out onto the gravel. He was too strong to resist and my back-pedalling proved useless, especially as he entwined his fingers in my hair, pushing my now drenched fringe out of my eyes. ‘Let them see how beautiful you are.’

  I stretched out my free hand and pushed his own wet fringe out of his eyes, stifling a girlish giggle. ‘You d
o know it’s raining, right? And that it’s freezing cold?’ I could feel my jeans tightening as they became soaked through and streaks of water raced down my chest from the tips of my hair.

  He looked up at the night sky, studying it with a bemused expression. ‘Raining? I never would have guessed.’ Drops of water landed on his face, running along his jaw and down his neck, which he wiped away with a brush of his own free hand. ‘But not cold. Temperate.’

  ‘Really?’ I shivered as I said that, emphasising how cold it really was. ‘I must feel like a hot poker then.’

  ‘As hard to handle as a hot poker,’ he muttered.

  ‘Hey!’ I placed a hand on his chest and shoved. He moved, but I knew that wasn’t anything to do with my strength. I took a few steps back and reached down, scooping a handful of water up in my cupped hands from the fountain and throwing in his vague direction. Most of his shirt was already wet but it caught his sleeve, plastering it to his skin. In a comically slow way, he looked down at it, arching an eyebrow.

  ‘Really, Girly?’

  Before I could blink, he had darted forward and splashed me. It knocked the wind from my lungs as it hit me and I threw my arms around myself, thinking the glowing light and relative warmth of the entrance hall looked very appealing. He reached down to splash me again and I scarpered out of the way, around to the other side of the fountain. He rounded it one way and I dived the other, but he soon caught up with me, catching me by the waist.

  ‘Kaspar, don’t! I’ll catch a cold or something!’

  Should have thought about that before you splashed him, my voice commented.

  ‘No, you won’t. Turning will stop anything like that.’

  I groaned, relaxing into his arms as he steered us away from the fountain. ‘What if something goes wrong tomorrow night? What even happens when a human is turned?’

  ‘I take some of your blood, and you take some of mine. It’s simple. Nothing will go wrong.’

  ‘Yes, but what if—’

  He pressed a finger to my lips. ‘If you were very old or very young, or seriously ill, then yes, it is likely that something could go wrong. But you’re not. In fact, you’re a dhampir, so there’s even less chance. So stop worrying.’

  I made a disgruntled noise through my pursed lips. ‘What about after the blood bit then? How long does it take?’

  ‘It takes a few days for your teeth to completely sharpen and it will be a while before you develop hunting skills, but almost everything transforms in a few hours. It’s amazing to watch somebody pale like that.’

  ‘You’ve turned somebody before?’

  He nodded. It was reassuring to know that he knew what he was doing, but something else, jealousy perhaps, crept in.

  ‘Who?’

  He shook his head, like he was trying to remember. ‘One of the maids here, not long after the war. Anne, I think her name was.’

  Something in the pit of my stomach fell away. ‘Do you mean Annie?’ Yet again he nodded. His eyes tinged pink and I didn’t have to ask to know what had happened. Well, that explains a lot. I felt another pang of jealousy, mixed with guilt too.

  ‘If something were to go wrong though, would—’

  ‘Father won’t be far away, and he knows everything there is to know about turning.’ Again, I didn’t know whether to be reassured or concerned.

  ‘Do you want to know something?’ he said, clearly keen to change the subject as he entwined his fingers with mine. He didn’t wait for an answer as he placed my hand over the spot on my chest where my heartbeat was the strongest. ‘I can’t wait until that heart stops beating.’

  I rolled up onto my toes and planted a kiss on his lips. I could wait, but if there is ever going to be a good reason to turn, it is for more of these moments. I rested my head on his shoulder. He had his back to the mansion and I looked up at the place that had been my home for the past three months. I stared at it, wondering how such a large, empty, cold house could feel so right, even after everything that had happened.

  And from the top floor, a face stared back: the King’s. His expression was neither kind nor angry, just blank, just as I thought his heart had been for so long. But now I realized he suffered, more than any of us; and a floor below that, a second man looked on: my own father. I didn’t need to study his face to know that it was full of hurt.

  I pressed my bare midriff into Kaspar, hoping they wouldn’t see and glad the darkness hid my flushed cheeks.

  I won’t let any feud between them come between Kaspar and I. I can’t let it.

  SIXTY-TWO

  Violet

  All traces of the storm had disappeared by the next morning. The sun streamed through my windows, voiles thrown open by Kaspar to wake me up before he left. He had gone to hunt, because he wanted to make sure he wasn’t thirsty before he turned me.

  Today is the day. Today, I become a vampire. Today, I seal it all.

  The hairs on my arms stood on end. My legs slowly warmed as strips of light divided the sheets I was tucked beneath; moments before they had been frozen from his touch.

  This is it.

  The clock on the bedside table read a little after nine. When the hands reached half-past, my father and Lily would leave, escorted by Eaglen.

  There is no going back.

  It could be months before I saw Lily again. I hadn’t even seen my mother.

  Tonight is the night.

  I slipped my feet from beneath the sheets, cursing how cold the floor was as I pulled one of the sheets with me, to cover my nakedness. When it occurred to me that no would see, I dropped it, letting it pool at my feet as I picked my way through the sprawled clothes that lay on the floor.

  So much for not being able to forget.

  The mirrors in my wardrobe reflected every inch of my form: haggard, drawn, the cold making me rosy-cheeked – not for much longer. The skin was taut over my bottom rib – it never used to be. My hips jutted out more than I liked and my knees looked scrawny. I was thin: too thin for a body that had once been rounded and curvy. My skin was torn and bruised from weeks of torment and caress under Kaspar’s hand. My eyes were wide, always wide; always fearing what would come next.

  ‘Is this what you want, Violet?’ I whispered to my reflection, reaching out and touching my glass shoulder. ‘Truly?’

  My reflection did not answer, but stared back, lips only parting as mine did to sigh.

  Truthfully, want was never a luxury you were permitted to have, my voice said, so clear in my mind that it could have come from a real person beside me.

  ‘I know,’ I replied, turning away and pulling a clean shirt down from the railing. When I had dressed, I attempted to pull a brush through my damp, tangled hair, but it only left it frizzier, so I gave up.

  The entrance hall was still quiet when I reached the bottom of the stairs. The butlers stirred from their stone-like stature when I passed, bowing. A maid replaced the black roses in the vases with fresh white lilies, pressing the petals of the withering flowers between the pages of a heavy book she had placed upon the table.

  Nothing was out of the ordinary. Nothing had changed. Nothing would change, but me.

  In the kitchen, Cain greeted me with a grin, laughing and joking from behind a tumbler of flowing red liquid, which swirled from side to side, staining the glass pink. His eyes twinkled as he asked after my sister; dulled when I replied that she was leaving shortly.

  The apple I picked from the bowl was as red as the blood he drank. I sank my teeth into it, wondering if this was how it felt to sink fangs into flesh – but no, skin would be softer. I swallowed a chunk of the apple, moist and sweet, forgetting to chew most of it.

  The digital clock on the wall read 9.26 a.m. I contemplated returning to the entrance hall. I should say goodbye. But how do I say goodbye when I only greeted them a day ago?

  Lyla’s beaming face appeared in the doorway, chased by a cheering Fabian, who chuckled and grabbed her as they pulled closer and locked lips. I saw them only as fi
gures against a bleary background. Felix and Charlie followed, not far behind, and bowed. It slowly percolated my skull that they lowered themselves for me. Declan, late; spread a newspaper across the counter, his fingers tracing the edge of each page, headlines and pictures and columns merging into one black-and-white whirl. I found myself walking away, reminded of my first morning at Varnley.

  ‘But you choose to kill people instead.’

  The metallic smell filled the corridor, seeming to stick to the carpets of the living room like smoke. It filled my throat, drained my saliva and left me propped against the back of the sofa, clutching my throat and gagging.

  A few hours and I will lust for the stuff.

  When my breathing eventually slowed, I moved off in a daze, not convinced I was even awake. My hand rested on the door out of the living room and I froze, wanting to stay, to just let them go; forget goodbye, because goodbye was too hard and I knew that tonight, I would betray them, particularly my father, in the ultimate way.

  But it wasn’t goodbye for good. It was goodbye to the Violet they knew, who ate and drank and got ill; the Violet who would die before she had seen a century pass; the Violet who they had loved and cared and fed and taught for the past eighteen years. That’s all.

  I took a deep breath and twisted my wrist to turn the handle, allowing the door to swing inwards. I stepped through, seeing Eaglen first, then my father and the other two men from the government, arms grasped by the guards. Lily stood close by. She saw me first; her face a picture of sadness and disappointment, only outshone by my father’s face as he looked away and refused to meet my gaze.