Dinner With a Vampire (16 page)

I looked once more at my sallow-looking skin. Blush was strictly taboo in the world of vampires, so I wasn’t wearing any – it left me looking ill,
but it worked.

‘Here, you will need these,’ Lyla said, handing me a pair of crystal-white gloves. I pulled them on and they reached just past my elbows. ‘Don’t ever take them off,’ she instructed, and I nodded, turning to look at her properly for the first time.

Gone was the usual pink tinge from her hair, replaced by an even shade of deep chestnut. It was pinned up, a few loose strands falling around her face. Her dress was emerald and backless, the material falling as low as the hollow in her spine. The rest of the material flowed to the floor, where it pooled in a small train. She wore very little make-up – not that she needed it.

She pulled an emerald sash over her dress, the Varns’ coat of arms emblazoned across the material in silver. The one maid who had remained came forward, placing a dainty, not to mention very expensive-looking diamond tiara on Lyla’s head, and handing her a pair of white gloves, almost identical to the ones I wore.

‘Well, I think I am ready and you certainly are. I must say, you are my most impressive achievement,’ she prattled.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled sarcastically.

‘You could almost pass for a vampire,’ she continued, as the maid helped to fasten a silver chain around her neck. I turned back to the mirror.
Do I really look that different? Can I really pass as a vampire?

The answer was no. I could still see a throbbing vein in my neck; see the natural blush colouring my cheeks; feel my steady heartbeat. I did not have the grace, or the elegance of a vampire and I completely despised everything they stood for. And of course, I knew I would smell most appealingly like a human.

Butterflies tickled the lining of my stomach and a little dread poisoned my mind. I could hear soft sounds of an orchestra playing downstairs and the drumming of many feet moving across a hard, marble floor. Outside, it was a hive of activity as cars pulled up, butlers and valets rushing to attend to the guests. Each time I heard the incoherent voice of someone speaking far below, my stomach would do back flips, making me lurch. Even the clock seemed to taunt me, as the hands crawled towards midnight.

‘Who did you say you were going with again?’ I asked, anxious to preoccupy my mind.

‘My second cousin. Arranged of course. A favour to my aunt,’ Lyla explained in a displeased tone, clearly annoyed at her lack of choice in the matter.

‘Minger?’

She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘Have you ever met a vampire who was a minger?’ I shook my head. ‘Precisely. They don’t exist. He just has an infuriatingly big ego. He will have the first and second dance and then disappear. We’ll be lucky if they find him tonight.’ She scowled, before muttering something incomprehensible under her breath.

‘Guessing you wish you could have gone with someone else, huh?’ I asked, nonchalantly.

‘Yes. And I know
exactly
who I would have gone with,’ she pined. Her eyes dulled, but that could just have been a trick of the light, because immediately afterwards, she straightened up and smiled. ‘Ready?’

Just then there was a brisk knocking at the door and the maid hurried to answer it.

Fabian strode into the room, wearing a dark tailcoat. His white shirt was well fitted, and hugged his torso until it disappeared behind a royal-blue cummerbund. His fair hair was sleeker and tidier than usual. A triangle of white poked out from his breast pocket and he also wore a pair of white gloves.

‘Wow,’ he breathed, his eyes taking me in. ‘Lyla, you’ve worked wonders!’ I blushed, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult.

Her eyes turned a faint shade of pink, and her gaze glided to the floor. ‘Oh, it was nothing.’ I noticed that neither she nor Fabian credited the maids, who had done most of the work.

She walked over to me and softly pecked me on the cheek, but not before she whispered, ‘Take care of him,’ in my ear, a single fang tugging at her bottom lip, which quivered. My eyes followed her as she withdrew into her enormous wardrobe, a lump forming in my throat.
How could I have been so stupid?
It was
Fabian
she had wanted to take. That explained her expression when he had asked me to the ball.
But does Fabian know?

‘Time to go.’ He smiled, linking my arm with his and leaving me no time to ponder that question. He led me out of the room and down the stairs, where we joined the throng of people moving towards the ballroom. A few heads turned towards me and I flushed, over and over, the blood rushing to my cheeks. Fabian received a few nods from noble-looking men –
vampires
– and I tensed up, stricken.

‘Relax,’ Fabian murmured in an undertone. ‘You’re safe, I promise.’ I nodded, uncertain, not having the heart to tell him that it was just as much his touch that was causing me to become rigid

Gradually, we moved towards the double doors that led to the ballroom. I vaguely heard Fabian complaining that people should stop loitering in the entrance, but I wasn’t really listening. My eyes were set dead straight, at a head of long blonde curls, twisted into a wreath of tumbling red flowers.

Again, we inched a metre or so forward. I was afraid that if we didn’t keep moving, my feet would stiffen and refuse to move, or worse, my knees would buckle from under me. I was sure that if I went down, I wouldn’t get back up again – the bodice of the dress had been laced so tightly that I had to maintain a completely straight back or face being stabbed by one of the stays.

I found that if I rolled up onto my toes, I could just see the sparkling light of a thousand black candles in the chandelier. The roar of voices in the entrance hall mingled with the muted sound of violins and a choir and the echo of what seemed like thousands of yet more voices.

In one wave, the crowd loosened and those in front of us surged through the double doors and onto the wide balcony where Kaspar had confronted me over Thyme. Fabian, perhaps mistaking it for fear, pulled me closer.

We crossed the threshold into the ballroom and the woman with the blonde curls and her partner veered to the left, descending one of the two sets of steps onto the dance floor. With that, the view of the room opened up.

I gasped.

Hundreds of couples were gathered about the glittering room, the ladies in elegant ball gowns and gentlemen in dress suits. The only source of light came from the chandelier, which threw a pool of light onto the centre of the room. Waiters, dressed in white, weaved about the guests, carrying tall flutes containing a liquid that I’m sure wasn’t wine.

Heads turned as we entered the room, eyes of every colour staring curiously up at us.

‘Is that her? The human?’

‘She doesn’t look human …’

Voices broke through the low murmur, as more and more people turned to look. But I didn’t care. Everywhere I looked there were dark flowing dresses, almost all wearing blood-like crimsons and maroons, blacks and shades of midnight blue and I gripped the banister of the balcony on which we stood with a sort of feverish excitement, breathless as my childish imaginings of fairytale balls were proved true.

Every person in the room looked so dark, so compelling, as the soft light illuminated their haunting, emaciated faces. They were not perfect, like the stories always said: they were not moral enough to be perfect. But they were as damned near as nature could get.

‘Violet?’ I turned to see Fabian beaming down at me, hand on my arm as he took in my animation.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I whispered.

‘Like you,’ he whispered back. My smile faltered and my eyes flickered up and down as they struggled to meet his.

‘I—’

‘Come on,’ he said, pulling me by the arm towards the left-hand set of steps. We descended and began to meander through the crowd. Some parted as we came their way with a respectful silence; others turned away in disgust. Fabian was guiding me, and glancing around; a frown appeared on his face. He muttered something that I could not hear and suddenly his expression was clear again. He grabbed my hand, and started pulling me back through the swarm of people again, who buzzed like flies.

‘Fabian, where exactly are we going?’ I asked, sensing he was leading me somewhere.

‘To my parents.’

‘
What
?
’ I exclaimed. My expression must have looked panicked, because he shot me a ‘be sensible’ glare. I dug my heels in and put up a protest anyway until he gave up.

‘Later then,’ he warned above the sound of the orchestra on the far side of the room, retuning with the grand piano. Gone was the soft, soothing music. Instead, the violins drew out three long, clashing, spine-chilling notes and launched into the most haunting fanfare I had ever heard.

The marching beat of a huge timpani drum sounded, and the violins followed, notes crisp and unforgiving as deep, resounding horns echoed around the room.

The crowd parted, creating a winding path leading from the grand door to the throne at the far end of the room. The hairs on my neck stood on end, as the bloodcurdling sound of a choir joined in with the strings.

My blood ran cold.

‘What’s happening?’ I muttered in an undertone to Fabian, extremely conscious of the vampires opposite staring at us. Whatever was happening, I didn’t like it, as an unwelcome spirit began to take over my flesh, making me shiver, my stomach roll, my legs go weak.

‘The Varns are arriving,’ was all the reply I got.

A compelling thrill rippled through the crowd as they waited with such electrifying excitement that the room seemed to churn like multicoloured water, swaying as one. It struck me that most here probably only saw their rulers on very rare occasions, and that this must be such a long-awaited appearance.
And I get to mutter some new curse at the Prince every day. Lucky me.

A bitter draft worked its way up, stirring my hair and dress, tickling my skin. High above us, the candles spluttered in their holders. The room moved from light to dark to light as the soft autumnal glow of the candles returned.

Run!
my voice suddenly cried.

My throat was constricting, my skin crawling as all-consuming, vice-like anticipation took over. I had no will left, no strength to stop this irrational desire; this irrational want to set eyes upon them; them, the predators so well suited to destroying my own kind.

Run from the rose!

My breathing came in short, sharp rasps, not enough oxygen reaching my head. My hand tingled and I felt something cold through the gloves. A gentle pressure. I looked down to see Fabian’s white-gloved hand clutching mine, holding onto me as though I might blow away at any second.

‘Keep breathing, it will pass in a moment,’ he said in nothing more than a whisper. I nodded shakily, vision wavering.

Run before it’s too late! Run now!

The music was rising and rising, filling my ears, as it towered to a crescendo, sending my heartbeat spiralling out of control.

Run or face rising to the throne!

The candles completely blew out, a ferocious wind raging through the ballroom, as the great grand doors were flung open.
The Varns.
The King swept down the stairs in the absolute darkness – darkness that turned to a flickering glow as he clicked his fingers. An astonishing crown sat atop his dark hair, made of some metal that looked to be liquid, lithe to his movements as the dark emerald jewels glinted in their silver settings. Set above those jewels, contained in four points made of glass, was a red, flowing liquid.

Run, or become one with their blood.

My breath caught and I gagged, throat tightening. My vision swayed, the room spinning and settling. I clutched at my chest, my ribs feeling as though they were being crushed, constricting around my heart that wasn’t beating in any sort of pattern.

The rest of the family followed, and I could see the true extent of the vampire royalty. There were thirty of them, maybe more, all dressed in black or emerald, sash about their shoulders, partners clinging to their arms with downturned eyes. Kaspar followed directly behind his father, Charity clasping his arm.

A wave rolled across the crowd, as all bowed and curtsied. I did so too once the King reached our quarter, bowing my head low, hand still encased in Fabian’s. But my legs began to give way when I went to stand and something sinister, something that was not my own mind erupted inside my head, but booming and thundering.

Throw yourself down, mortal child. You are not worthy. Die before fate catches you. Die, child. Die before it is too late.

My eyelids drooped, my knees gave away, and I was falling to the ground, ready to give in.

Run from his sin!

My eyelids snapped open and I was being pulled up, a comforting hand in mine, a pair of blue eyes staring worriedly down at me.

‘Violet?’

I grabbed at my chest with my free hand, clawing away, desperate to release this darkness clutching me, to be free from its strangling hold. Kaspar passed by and his eyes snapped to meet mine. Unease momentarily crossed his face, before his head faced forwards once more. My head thumped. The family reached the dais, filing out into a line facing their subjects. The King carried on to his throne, veering around to face us all.

A clock deep within the halls of the mansion struck midnight. Twelve reverberating booms, each making my blood run to ice.

Time will not be infinite forever, Violet Lee. It’s running out.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentleman, to Autumnal Equinox.’

Run!

The King’s gaze locked onto mine and a flicker of doubt creased his face, before he returned to his pensive glare, staring down at his subjects as though they were pawns to be moved on a chessboard. When satisfied, he sat down upon his throne, lazily waving his hand at the waiters, who disappeared to the sidelines.