“Maybe I should have,” he replied, raising his eyebrows. “Now, are you desperate to get to your room and have some time alone to reflect, or would you rather come to mine for an hour or two? We could have coffee and go over anything else that you still want to know.”
Harriet didn’t answer, but headed for his door.
Tom smiled and let her in.
The room was large even by the standards of the college’s accommodation. There were actually two rooms, one at the front for working and meeting friends and a bedroom at the back.
The former had a large window looking out into the quad but the latter was entirely windowless and dark. The rooms was richly decorated with expensive looking rugs and lamps. Looking around, she noticed the oddities – the gramophone on one shelf, right next to the iPod speaker, the usual pictures of him with his friends in freshers’ week, accompanied by some black and white photographs and even some sepia ones from decades ago.
She studied one of the oldest looking ones. It showed him lounging against a wall in the college’s main quad with two other boys of the same age. They were all wearing blazers and boaters and looking very happy in the sun.
“Is that from before you were changed?” Harriet asked.
Tom took the photograph from her and studied it. “Yes, just. It was towards the end of Trinity term 1925, during Eights Week, about a month before the Cavalier’s summer party. It was scorching hot that summer and I practically lived outside, punting and picnicking and rowing and playing croquet and going to garden parties and balls. I always felt glad I got my money’s worth before I was unable to ever go in the sun again.”
Harriet didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, don’t look so miserable on my account. I’m sure Henry and Arthur there had plenty more summers like that, but they’re both dead now, so who really won?”
“Don’t people ask about the pictures and all the old stuff?” Harriet wondered aloud.
“Oh the gramophone and decanters and things people put down to me being posh and eccentric. The coffin in the bedroom too for that matter. I just say the pictures are of my grandfather. There’s a striking family resemblance isn’t there?”
The two of them sat down on the sofa.
“I’m truly sorry you’ve had such an awful night,” Tom said. “Do you feel alright from the blood loss?”
“A little lightheaded, which isn’t helping with my shock and confusion, but it’ll be okay. It’s nowhere near as bad as last time. George managed to show a little more self-control.”
“Well in that case, I suppose it’s question time. Now, there’s not a lot I can say about Augustine and your mother, partly because their relationship and her turning have always been shrouded in mystery, partly because it has to be her story to tell. But anything else you want to know about vampires in general or the Cavaliers in particular ask now and I’ll do my best. No more evasion I promise.”
“Tell me about the Cavaliers,” Harriet requested. “What’s the point of the society?”
“Well, there’s a degree to which they’re like every other dining society in this place – it gives everyone involved a chance to be exclusive, to dress up, to have wild and glamorous parties. Members come to Oxford every few decades to relieve their youth with others in the same situation. It’s a good place to do it. Plenty of young, rich attractive people in one place, plus most of us find the traditions and the old buildings comforting.”
After only a few weeks at Oxford, Harriet could already understand their urge to return every so often during an endless lifetime.
“And of course, there are some tutors at each college who are in on it, so we are admitted and treated as normal students, but generally let off essays and tutorials, unless we’re desperate for a little academic stimulation, in which case they’ll hold them at night.
“There is a much more serious purpose however, and that’s to maintain vampire influence by seeking out the most talented and ambitious students and making them one of us. We give them all the help they need to become powerful politicians and media barons and heads of major companies. Once upon a time, ancient vampires could hold the same important position at fifty-year intervals, but photographs and the internet leads to more questions being asked if anyone tries to reinvent themselves too quickly.
“We stick strictly to five a year. Too many people in government or at the same bank only coming out at night would suggest a conspiracy; a handful doing it seems like their own eccentricity. Anyone who reports injuries consistent with a vampire attack is hushed up, police cases against us are dropped, and investigative journalism pieces are not printed at the editor’s strict instructions. We even have a chap at Google trying his best to make sure internet searches into our activities only come up with the ramblings of lunatics and not anything more prescient.
“Basically, when people talk about ‘the old boys’ network’ or ‘the establishment’ or ‘the man,’ they don’t know it, but it’s us that they mean.”
Harriet nodded. “Old boys seems the right term. No-one’s thought to get women involved in this great conspiracy have they?”
“It’s been discussed in the last few decades. There are certainly enough amazing women at Oxford, and enough female politicians and lawyers and journalists to mean it would be a sensible idea, but you’ve got to remember that this is a society founded in the seventeenth century with many members older than that. Attitudes forged over hundreds of years change slowly, though I suspect they’ll crack at some point.”
“All of this is very interesting but it still doesn’t explain your behaviour,” Harriet said, leaning into him slightly. “What was with all the avoidance and the ‘it’s safer if we don’t speak’ stuff?”
Tom took her hand in his, and she felt tiny pulses of electricity shouting through her body. She wondered idly how it would feel if he touched her somewhere else, or considering the reaction she’d had when George had done it, if he were to feed from her.
“I owe it to you to explain. I was immediately attracted to you on that first day in the New Rooms, but once I noticed your necklace, I realised who you were. For years, we’ve all been curious about Adelaide’s mysterious human daughter. I didn’t dare take things further without asking her permission, but when I called her, she told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t good enough for you. I was to keep an eye on you, ensure that you met the right people and came to no harm, and above all, report back to her. But on no account was I to make my feelings known to you or make any attempt to act on them. To be on the safe side, I was to avoid you as much as possible.”
“That’s insane. It’s not the eighteenth century. I can go out with whoever I want. Besides, I adore my mother, but I’m not having my love life dictated by someone who walked out on me when I was a baby.”
Harriet noticed Tom’s shocked expression. She supposed that between her charm and her apparent status as first lady of the vampires, open criticism of her mother was rare. For that matter, other than token jokes to the twins, she didn’t think she’d ever had a bad thing to say about her before.
“It’s not that simple. Vampire culture still holds to those old-fashioned ideas. Augustine and by extension your mother just aren’t used to being defied, even on the little issues, and nothing matters more to her than who is going to turn you.”
“To turn me?” Harriet went paler than Tom as she thought about what he was saying. “You mean my own mother wants me to become a vampire?”
“Isn’t it understandable? What mother wouldn’t want their child to live forever? What mother wouldn’t want her daughter to be powerful, beautiful, and always young? It’s the same as wanting you to get a degree, eat healthily, or marry the right man. Besides, most vampires regard most humans with a strong degree of contempt. Why would she wish that sort of mediocre life on you?”
“So this is her attempt at being a pushy parent? Do you have some way to contact her? I need words right now.”
“Don’t
speak to her tonight. It’s almost the holidays. Visit her and say what you need to say. I know she’d love to see you. In the meantime, whilst it kills me to say it, I mean what I told you in the bar. The closer we get, the more we risk making two very powerful vampires utterly furious. Three if you count George. We need to keep apart.”
“Forget that,” said Harriet firmly. “She might not have been around, but I’ve spent my whole life being defined by my mother. I’ve had enough.” With that, she leaned in closer and kissed him.
She caught Tom utterly by surprise. For a second his sense of self-preservation prevailed and he tried to resist, but he was soon lost in the moment.
Harriet felt the strange electrical feeling flow through her entire body. She pressed hard against Tom, kissing him relentlessly, terrified that if she came up for air for even a second, one or both of them would lose their nerve. This was who she wanted, she was sure of it. The feel of his lips on hers, of their arms around each other, was so right. She felt guilty acting like this after already getting so close to George just a few hours ago, but she was convinced now that Tom was the man for her – if he just had the strength to give in and resist her mother’s commands.
Her kiss had unleashed the force of Tom’s weeks of self-control. She could feel his fangs with the end of her tongue, and the sensation of this made her shiver. His hands were suddenly everywhere. For a moment, he ran them appreciatively over the silky fabric of her beautiful gold dress. Harriet was barely able to breathe. Quickly, he slipped its thin straps down over her arms, leaving her breasts entirely exposed. He broke off the kiss to take first one and then the other nipple in his mouth. For all his evident strength and bloodlust, he was surprisingly gentle as he licked her. She moaned slightly and he looked at her and smiled.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “There’s still time to back out and not take the risk.”
Harriet shook her head violently. “Don’t you dare stop now!” she said between shallow breaths. She stood up, allowing the silk dress to fall completely to the floor, showing her matching silky gold knickers and black stockings.
Tom gasped. From then on, he asked no more questions. He stood too and elegantly took off his white tie outfit down to his boxer shorts.
Harriet had half expected him to be wearing some bizarre 1920s underwear so was as relieved by his Calvin Klein’s as she was impressed by the bulge in them.
He picked her up as he had done that night on the Steele Walk, only this time holding her more tightly and allowing his hands to explore her body. Moving as quickly and easily as though her were carrying nothing at all, he led her into his bedroom.
He wasn’t joking about the coffin, Harriet realised, shivering slightly at the sight of the very ornate one by the far wall. There was however also a double bed and to her relief it was this that he laid her down on.
For a while they simply lay, holding each other and kissing passionately again. Then slowly, Tom traced his hands down her body and began to stroke her through her delicate knickers. Harriet gave a little sigh and began to move against him. Smiling at her appreciation, he slid the tiny silk garments off her and resumed his work. His fingers felt almost too good on her exposed body. She breathed hard and reached into Tom’s boxer shorts to repay him in kind. His entire body was cold. Where his fingers touched her, she rather enjoyed the additional stimulation, like being teased with an ice cube, but the coolness of his cock surprised her. He made sounds of appreciation as she stroked him but she found it odd to hear no sound of heavy breathing and feel no increase in his heartbeat.
After a while, he took her hand away and pushed her gently onto her back. He shuffled down the bed and began to lick her with the same delicacy and purposefulness that she’d seen several vampires use on their victims’ necks. It felt fantastic and after a few short minutes she felt the tension within her build to an unbearable level. She gripped his free hand hard and stroked his hair frantically. As he licked her faster and faster whilst stroking her inside with a cool finger, she felt the world explode. She stiffened and gripped him, calling out his name in a gasp.
Tom kept licking, extending her pleasure until she couldn’t take it anymore, and forced his head up. He grinned at her blissed out face and took her into his arms, kissing and stroking her whilst she rested and recovered and snuggled into him.
“Ready for more?” he asked after a few minutes had passed in a relaxed and joyful daze.
“Oh yes,” Harriet replied with a smile.
Without further words, he smoothly pushed her legs apart and laid his slim but firm body on top of her. They both gasped as he entered her. Tom quickly got a smooth rhythm going and Harriet matched it, pushing herself onto him and grinding against him.
She lost track of time as he moved in her. It was difficult to maintain conscious thought, but Harriet felt filled with a sense of joy and satisfaction that Tom had finally made his feelings clear in the nicest possible way. She felt another climax build and as she reached it, Tom began to move faster, kissing her hard as he did so. As she came for the second time, she felt him shudder, losing control at the same time.
They lay still, and then Tom rolled over onto his back and pulled her close to lie on his shoulder.
“That was unbelievable,” he said finally. “I’ve had decades of this, but I’ve never felt such closeness, such a connection before.”
Harriet tried to find the words to agree. She’d only slept with two people before, but that had certainly been something entirely different, fuelled by their obvious feelings for each other.
“So no more denial?” she managed. “Promise me you’ll defy them all, that we can be together?”
“I promise,” Tom said, his voice still thick with passion.
They kissed again and then fell asleep curled into each other. Harriet’s last thought before she gave into unconsciousness was that he hadn’t even attempted to drink her blood.
“Wake up Harriet.”
Harriet heard Tom’s voice and her eyes snapped open. She instantly remembered all that had happened, and hoped he wasn’t about to have another of his changes of mood.
“God you look beautiful,” he sighed, catching sight of her naked body sprawled on the bed, her carefully styled hair messed up and spread around her head. “I’d love to keep you here for hours, but it’s almost dawn. I have to get into my other bed now.”
Harriet looked puzzled, and he gestured sadly towards the coffin. Harriet jumped out of bed and pulled on last night’s clothes. She was astonished how energised she felt after what could only have been a few hours sleep. Clearly vampire blood really did have rejuvenating powers.
Once she was dressed, Tom gave her a final kiss on the lips. “Come and find me tonight. Whatever happens next, I’m glad we had that,” he said.
Harriet’s head was whirling as she left him and climbed the stairs to her room. She wanted to have a shower then spend some time alone to get her thoughts in order. Instead, on the landing outside her room, she bumped into Josh, who was already heading out for an early morning choir rehearsal.
“Last night’s clothes?” he asked critically.
“For what it’s worth, yes,” she answered, sounding angrier than she would have liked to.
“So, did you spend the night with the blond rich wanker or the dark haired posh twat?”
“I’m not even going to justify that with an answer,” Harriet snapped, storming into her room and slamming the door.
***
Adelaide’s first experience of the Cavaliers was at their summer party of 1983, the end of her second year at Oxford.
She’d been in love. With the city, with the University, with her friends and above all with Sam, who she’d been together with for nearly two years. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that could improve matters was for Sam to do something sufficiently noteworthy to be accepted into the Cavaliers. One of her best friends was dating a member and she was incredibly jealous of the social prestige
it had brought her and the doors it had opened.
“With my background that wouldn’t happen whatever I did,” Sam had moaned when she’d brought the subject up.
“Oh don’t believe the stereotypes,” she’d snapped. “Contrary to popular belief, as long as you’re willing to kowtow to tradition they care more about where you’re going than where you’re coming from.”
He’d shrugged, and she’d continued to make her case. “You’re clever, you’re handsome, you enjoy dressing up and everyone loves you. Let me help you excel in something and they’ll snap you up.”
Deep down she’d known it was a lost cause, so when Jamie, the Union Librarian, had bragged that he was in the running for selection and invited her to the summer party, she’d been unable to refuse, even though she suspected that his intentions were far from honourable. Sam had begged her not to go, but she’d promised not to do anything that would upset him and he’d relented, as he always did. She didn’t see why she should miss out on the event of the year just because he hadn’t made an effort.
It was a fantastic party, right until the moment when the inductees had had to select a partner. Jamie had called her up and she’d had a momentary flash of panic, wondering what she’d be expected to do and how she’d get out of it.
Then, Augustine had appeared. Immediately, she’d had a strange feeling of recognition and been unable to stop staring at him, but busy with the ceremony, he didn’t seem to have noticed her.
Adelaide watched as the members drank from the candidates and made them drink their blood in turn. She’d been amazed that no one was screaming, but glancing round saw that everyone was frozen as though in a trance. Terrified, she’d decided that her best chance of survival was to pretend that whatever they’d done to the others had worked on her. She assumed a blank look and watched the cycle of blood exchange, trying hard not to faint or call out. As soon as Augustine had started to speak however, she’d had a strange feeling in her head, and almost immediately slumped to the ground.
Oxford Blood Page 11
