She’d woken to find Jamie stood with his hands on her shoulders. Suddenly, there was some kind of signal, and the old vampires leaned forward and bit the dazed girls, before quickly thrusting the newly turned ones onto them. Some of the new members hesitated, some outright tried to refuse, especially where their partner was also their long-term girlfriend. Good old Jamie had no such qualms. He sunk his teeth into her neck with vigour. Adelaide’s resolve to stay quiet and pretend she was as out of it as everyone else broke and she started to scream.
Tristan, the member in charge of that year’s proceedings came over, held her head and tried to make Adelaide look at him, but she wouldn’t be pacified. Tristan called for Augustine in desperation. He had looked at Adelaide properly for the first time, and had momentarily frozen. The next thing she knew Augustine had grabbed Jamie, dragged him off her and thrown him half way across the stage. He bent and licked her neck to close the wound, the tension on his face showing what a challenge it was not to start drinking himself.
Tristan watched in amazement before scuttling away to tend to Jamie and to give Augustine some privacy.
“Who are you?’ whispered Gus, wide-eyed.
“Adelaide French,” she replied, trying to sound confident, though her voice was shaking and her throat ached from Jamie’s attack.
“You remind me of the first person I ever killed. Outside of the battlefield at least. She was my wife. I was made to drain her in order to complete my transformation, and I couldn’t forgive myself for centuries. Perhaps letting you go will be some kind of recompense.”
She hadn’t known how to even begin replying to that and had simply nodded.
“I’m going to drive you back to your college,” Augustine continued. “By rights I should wipe your memory, but I want you to remember me, and I’m sure no-one would believe you anyway. Promise me you’ll say nothing.”
She started to promise, but suddenly remembered where she’d seen him. Not in a past life, but in the Financial Times. He was the head of one of the country’s biggest stockbrokers, the place she was hoping to work.
“I’ll say nothing if you get both me and my boyfriend onto the Meridian and Lamb training scheme.”
Looking at him to gauge his reaction, she saw to her surprise that he was smiling. “You have her personality too. I think we have a deal Adelaide. Now get us both another drink!”
She poured herself a much-needed brandy, took a swig of it and passed another glass to Augustine.
“Would you mind awfully if I were to put you under again whilst we finish here? I promise you won’t get hurt.”
Not wanting to push her luck too far, she’d nodded her assent. He touched her head and the woods started to spin.
When she woke, she found herself sat in his Bentley. They’d driven back to her college, talking and talking. Part of her was terrified, but on the whole she’d felt oddly comfortable and the conversation had flowed. Almost too soon for her liking, they were back to Somerville.
Once parked, he asked if she’d let him try just a little of her blood. “As you’ve seen,” he said, “I can control people’s thoughts and actions to a certain degree, but I promise I won’t use this power on you. You can make your own choice.”
Somewhat against her better judgement, she’d silently nodded. He’d leant in, gently licked her neck, and then slowly let his fangs sink through the skin and into the vein. She gave a little yelp at the moment of penetration, but after that, it didn’t hurt at all. She closed her eyes, and enjoyed the feeling of relief, of closeness and almost of being cleansed. I was difficult to keep track of time but it could only have been a few moments before he pulled away.
“Thank you,” he sighed. “Please let me return the favour. I have no intention to let you take enough to effect a change, but it’s a mark of respect to let someone drink our blood, and not just use them for sustenance.”
A firm believer in trying everything once, she nodded again and when he opened the vein in his wrist clamped her mouth to the wound and drank. It had tasted more like mulled wine than blood, rich and slightly spicy, although there was a metallic undertone. She kept drinking, and quickly began to feel very relaxed and content. After a few moments, he pulled his arm away. He gave her the briefest kiss on her lips, licking away the last traces of blood as he did so, and then was suddenly all business again.
He opened the door and let her out. He wished her good night, said what a pleasure it had been to meet her and assured her that the job offers would be in the post. Already, the horror of what she’d seen at the party was fading. It felt like a bad dream and Augustine the only reality.
After a few seconds, he’d called her back. “Take this,” he’d said solemnly, taking a pendant from around his neck and pressing it into her hands. “I don’t ever want that sort of situation again, some young upstart thinking that they can help themselves to your blood. Wear this always and no-one will dare.”
Chapter Nine
Harriet woke at lunchtime. She bounded out of bed and was showered and dressed in record time. She didn’t feel tired or hungover in the slightest and which puzzled her until she remembered her taste of George’s blood. The night before had definitely been the oddest of her life. She considered calling one of her friends, but didn’t know where to start with an explanation of what had happened, so instead went for a walk by herself until it was time for her tutorial.
As always, the beauty of the city soothed her. She brought herself a ham and brie baguette and a coffee, and ate them strolling around the town. Inevitably, she bumped into a few people she knew and had hurried conversations with them, but generally managed to maintain the necessary degree of solitude. It was a crisp and clear day. After a while, the weak winter sun began to hurt her eyes and she hurried back to college, wondering whether this was a side effect of the blood.
She went to her tutorial at two. After a few weeks at Oxford, her original terror of the tutorials had mostly worn off, but they were still intensely nerve-wracking affairs. Her tute partner for the term was Callum, Olamide’s boyfriend, a boy who seemed to know everything about everything and appeared to never leave the library. The grumpy old tutor loved him and half the time the tutorials turned into a passionate debate between them, leaving her on the sidelines. She still hadn’t decided whether to be relieved that this took the pressure off her, or upset that they clearly regarded her as their intellectual inferior.
On this occasion however, the vampire blood seemed to have stimulated her mind as well as her body. She found herself remembering every detail of the books she’d read on the Civil War and quickly turning the facts into coherent arguments. Callum and the tutor stared at her, clearly impressed.
“Of course, Edgehill was just so very frustrating,” she said suddenly. “That sense of a clear victory slipping out of our hands. The idiot Cavalry commanders pushing their luck and chasing the fleeing enemy. Why couldn’t they just have held their ground and stuck with the infantry?” She was aware that her voice was becoming increasingly hysterical and that Callum and the tutor were looking at her oddly.
“It could so easily have been a decisive battle. Fucking Rupert had to go and ruin everything. The next thing I know, there’s Essex. Then James is dead beside me and I’m the heir and it’s everything I ever wanted, but not like this.”
“Are you quite all right Miss French?” the usually stern tutor asked kindly. “Your knowledge of everyone’s position at Edgehill is certainly impressive, but perhaps you should get a little air. That’s enough for today. Here are your essays. Mr Lucas, would you be so kind as to take Miss French back to her room?”
“Are you okay Harriet?” Callum said, bringing her back to the moment. “I think I should take you to Ola, she’ll know what to do.”
“I’m fine, I obviously spent far too much time working on this essay,” she said, managing a weak laugh.
“Well, it paid off until the last moment. I’ve never heard anyone swear in a tutorial before,” Cal
lum said with a grin. Her odd behaviour had invigorated the usually quiet boy. “Just one thing though, who on earth is James?”
“James? What do you mean?”
“You said something along the lines of: ‘James was dead and I was the heir.’ It wasn’t clear who you were talking about or why it was so terrible.”
“Oh I’m not sure,” Harriet replied, trying to sound breezy. “I probably meant something else.”
Harriet was worried that Callum was going to make her explain everything to Olamide, but when they got to her room, an over-excited Caroline greeted her.
“Harriet! Just the person I’ve been looking for! Guess what happened last night?”
Harriet had no idea. She wondered if Caroline’s evening had been as eventful as hers.
“I was asleep, and there was a knock at my door. As it was the middle of the night I was just wishing they’d go away, but I got up to open it, and there’s Ben, dressed in white tie, slightly drunk and very wide-eyed. I was puzzled, but I asked him in. He didn’t say anything at first, just kissed me.”
“Wow,” said Harriet, forgetting her own problems. “About time.”
“Exactly. Then within minutes, we were in bed. It was amazing. All that tension we’ve been building up all term just exploded.” She smiled beatifically at the memory. “He went to the Cavaliers. Did you see him? I think they must have shaken some sense into him.”
“So do you think this was a one off or are the two of you going to spend next term all loved up?” Harriet asked.
“Well, last night there was no time for discussion,” Caroline said, grinning. “But he stayed the night and this morning over breakfast we talked and that’s it – we’re official.”
Everyone offered their congratulations to the overjoyed girl.
“Actually, I’ve got similar news,” Harriet said eventually. “There really must be something in the water at those Cavalier dinners, because I got together with Tom.”
“You and Tom?” Olamide queried. “Didn’t you go with this George guy? And didn’t you decide you hated Tom after your argument in the bar?”
“Yes you sneaky thing, I think you’d better tell all,” said Caroline cheerfully, all her concerns of the night before having evaporated in the blur of new love.
“It’s a bit of a long story, but basically Tom walked me back from the party, explained a few things and it all went from there.”
“Well that’s just perfect. Tom and Ben get on well, so what do you say to the four of us going for a meal then onto Harry’s house party? Oh, Ola and Cal, you too of course if you’d fancy it.”
Olamide and Callum agreed to the meal if not the party, and Harriet thought it would be a great idea. With the exception of Callum, who quickly went back to the library, everyone was too overexcited for work or anything else productive, so the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of tea, snacks and amusing YouTube videos, followed by a trip to G and D’s, a fantastic ice cream parlour in the town.
At six, Harriet judged that it was probably dark enough for Tom to have woken up and nervously went to his room. As she knocked, she half expected him to have had one of his odd mood changes and refuse to speak to her, but when he opened the door he appeared delighted to see her and pulled her into his embrace.
Once he’d stopped kissing her, she raised Caroline’s suggestion of a meal and then the party. “I didn’t think vampires eat food, but judging by last night it doesn’t seem to be a problem.”
“We get no sustenance from normal food, but we can still enjoy the taste and we generally like to live extravagantly,” Tom explained. “The meal sounds good. Ben’s a great guy and I’d love to get to meet some of your friends properly. I don’t think Harry’s party is a very sensible idea though. A candidate’s party is going to be swarming with Cavaliers out to judge him and it’s best they don’t see us together.”
Between her dislike of Harry and all the excitement of the evening before, Harriet hadn’t actually been that keen on the idea of the party, but at Tom’s words, she became determined that they were going to go.
“If we’re going to be together I won’t have us hiding it. You say all the major Cavaliers are going to be there. I say fantastic; let’s let the whole vampire world know that we’re not afraid.”
Tom looked dubious but agreed. They embraced once more and then set out to meet the other couples at the porter’s lodge.
“Tom! Great to see you,” Caroline said. She was holding Ben’s hand, both of them looking as happy as it was possible to be.
“Thanks for the invite to the Cavaliers mate,” Ben added. “I guess it must have been you anyway. I had an amazing time. Just got to make sure I get selected now.”
“Lovely to see you too Caroline. Ben, you’re welcome, and don’t worry about the next steps, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Olamide and Callum were silent. They tended to get nervous enough around Ben. Tom seemed to have entirely overawed them.
They ate a cheap and cheerful supper in a pizza restaurant. Red wine and new love made everyone happy and talkative. Ben told a funny story about a teacher he and Tom had had at Eton.
“Why does he think the two of you were at school together?” Harriet whispered. “You must have gone decades ago.”
“Oh, we all pretend we’ve just graduated from one of the top schools, ideally the one we actually went to back in the day, and mesmerise the recent alumni we meet into remembering spending time with us there. Otherwise all the University’s smart set would wonder where on earth we’d appeared from.”
Once they’d finished their coffees, Callum and Olamide made their excuses and headed home.
“Party time,” said Caroline. “I can’t stand Harry, but with all the vote hunting I bet he’s going to make it a great night.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tom asked Harriet.
“Mate, I’ve never known you turn down a party before,” Ben said laughing. “Don’t get all loved up and boring on me. I certainly don’t intend to, not even for my lovely Caroline.”
Caroline giggled. Tom looked uncertain.
“Come on everyone,” Harriet said in her most decisive voice. Before there could be any further discussion, she strode towards Broad Street purposefully. The others shrugged and followed.
Harry was at Hertford, only a short walk from the centre of town. He had a large room and in addition, had taken over most of the rest of his staircase. They could hear the noise from the street.
“This is going to get broken up by the porters within the hour,” Caroline said scathingly. “Harry really does have more money than sense. Why he couldn’t have hired a room if he was so keen to do this I don’t know. I suppose he must want us all to see his lovely things.” With that, she dialled his number on her phone, and the host came out to let them into the college.
The four of them had to fight their way through people to get into Harry’s room. Music was playing loudly and there was a huge amount of food and drink laid out. People were sprawled on cushions and all over the bed. As she helped herself to a vodka and coke, Harriet noticed George standing in the corner watching her. A feeling of dread began to creep over her and she regretted her confident words to Tom.
“Turning up at the party with Tom I see,” he said coldly. “I hope this doesn’t mean what I think it does.”
“George, I’m sorry. After Tom took me back last night we had a talk and things have just escalated from there.”
George’s face was paler than ever, frozen and betraying no emotions. Knowing her necklace could keep her safe from hypnosis, Harriet looked into his bright green eyes and remembered just how terrifying he could be.
“I don’t think you quite understand the situation you find yourself in,” he said. “Do you think that we give our blood to anyone, that it means nothing? You can’t toy with us the way you might with human men.”
“Don’t give me that hypocritical rubbish. I’ve heard the stories about you, and even i
f they’re only half true, the number of women you must have slept with and fed off this term alone means you have no right to take the moral high ground.”
George laughed bitterly at this. “Fucking and biting yes, that’s one thing. But not giving them my blood. Not opening myself up and taking them into my protection. I haven’t done that in centuries. And you expect me to accept that an hour later you were in a lesser vampire’s bed? You expect me to shrug that off without complaint?”
“Look, I really am sorry. Last night was a weird night. I suppose I acted like a bit of a slut, but with all the shocks I had can you really blame me? As for the blood thing, I didn’t really know the significance of it and you made no effort to really tell me.”
“I would have thought someone as intelligent as you would have been able to work that one out without help. Did you see any of the other members donating to their guests?”
Harriet tried to reply calmly. “All I can say is that you’re charming and beautiful and even if you scare me a little I enjoy spending time with you. But it’s Tom that I want. I can’t change that and neither can you.”
“Oh we’ll see about that,” he replied, narrowing his bright eyes. “I’m going to speak to Augustine, speak to your mother and speak to the council. In the meantime I’m going to do everything I can to charm you back and to get Tom out of the way.”
Tom walked over and put a possessive arm around her. “And how are you proposing to do that?” he asked, assuming his most confrontational manner.
“Just watch your back Flyte,” George hissed. “You might have taken leave of your senses and decided that rank no longer matters and our leaders can be ignored and anyone can get the girl, but that certainly doesn’t mean everyone else has.”
“George, George, George,” said Rupert appearing behind him from nowhere and putting a hand patronisingly on his shoulder. “Go to the council and start your blood feud. If you want a war, I think you’ll find plenty of people willing to be on the other side. I’m certainly happy to lead them.”
Oxford Blood Page 12
