Dinner With a Vampire (18 page)

To simply get her to give in and stop being so stubborn, however, I would tell her the sky was green. ‘Fine,’ I agreed, equally as terse.

She removed her hand from mine and I found Fabian frowning at me. I rolled my eyes with a slight shake of my head, which Violet didn’t miss.

‘Lyla!’ She seized my nearby sister’s hand with as much vigour as when I had seized on the chance to steal a dance. ‘You dance with Fabian.’ She joined their hands and left before they could protest.

I hurried to catch up with her. ‘Girly, you little matchmaker!’

‘You know too?’

‘She
is
my sister.’

She seemed somewhat disappointed that she wasn’t the only one to know about my sister’s obsessive – but very recent – crush on Fabian, and didn’t speak as she curtsied without any prompting and gazed over my shoulder. She broke out into a smile and when I glanced back, it became obvious that the sight of Lyla in Fabian’s hold was the source of her happiness. But Fabian was my best and oldest friend, and I knew him well enough to see that he led my sister only in a stiff, mechanical fashion.

‘This is a little too risqué for the elders,’ I explained as I moved away and circled her, already having missed the more traditional waltz at the beginning. As much as I thought my sister’s love of clothes was almost as fanatical as her feelings for Fabian, I couldn’t deny that she had done a good job with this waif.

She watched me warily, craning her neck as far as it would go. ‘I’m sorry about—’

I cut in before she could finish. ‘Sorry about lecturing you and crap.’ Her eyes narrowed and I could see in her face exactly what was in mine:
apologies?
I looked away before she could register any surprise in my expression.

Everywhere I looked there were joyous smiles, raucous laughter, and the younger vampires holding one another far closer than what was ‘proper’. Hands grazed necks and shoulders; outwardly, it looked innocent, but the looks in their eyes told me it wasn’t. And I was about to show Violet exactly why that was.

‘Are you ready?’ I grinned and placed my hands firmly on her waist, tightening my fingers around the boning of the dress.

‘For what?’ She looked rightly anxious.

‘For this.’ The music paused and with that I hoisted her high into the air; she shrieked and her hands automatically sought my shoulders, forcing me to inhale first the perfume dabbed on her wrists, which I recognized as Lyla’s, and second a scent that made my throat burn. She might
look
like a vampire for the ball, but she still smelt like dinner.

I lowered her a heartbeat too early and as soon as her court shoes kissed the floor she was telling me off.

‘A little bloody warning would be nice next time!’ With that she purposefully stepped forward instead of back and jammed her low heel onto my toes.

I let my eyes flicker closed. ‘You do realize that didn’t hurt me in the slightest?’

‘You do realize you’re intolerable?’

‘The feeling is mutual then.’

I lifted her twice more, and would have done an extra time if she hadn’t put up such a loud fuss, cursing vampires under her breath.

‘You never learn, do you? You have to be polite to me. I am the Prince.
Prince.
Ring any bells?’

She folded her arms as she curtsied. ‘No. And the Prince will receive some courtesy when he is so kind as to show some himself.’

I smirked. ‘In your dreams, Girly, in your dreams.’ When she started to back away, that smirk only widened and I grabbed her wrist. ‘No, you don’t get away that easily. You’re having a second dance.’

She looked at my hand like it was a manacle, and shook it off in much the same way. ‘I have to go,’ she muttered with a frown. ‘But I’m sure Charity would love a dance.’

In the second I was distracted by the platinum-blonde to my right, the brunette somehow slipped away. Nowhere amongst the crowd was there a purple dress.

My hands found themselves in my pockets again. That was twice
in one night she had escaped.
I really am going to have to do something about that.

The truth was, that dance had been a little
too
easy.
Too
comfortable. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it. Especially when it was with
him
.

He brought you here. Don’t forget that, Violet.

Forced, more like,
my voice added and I was inclined to agree.

I stood there for a while, content to be alone with my thoughts. Yet I was interrupted when Fabian stepped into the gloom.

‘Where’s Kaspar?’

‘Where’s Lyla?’ We spoke in unison, before laughing.

‘Kaspar’s dancing,’ I explained.

‘Lyla said she was going to go and get a drink,’ he explained. I raised an eyebrow.
Gone to get a drink. Sounds familiar.

‘So you two just had the one dance then?’ I probed.

‘Yes. She seemed flustered,’ he said, clearly puzzled. I almost smiled at his ignorance.
Honestly, men.

‘You really have no idea, do you?’

He shrugged his shoulders.

I couldn’t take it. I had to tell him. He had to know. ‘Lyla likes you.’

I expected his face to light up, or a smile to curl his lips, or at least to acknowledge what I had said. But he didn’t. He just stood there, as the minutes fell away.

‘Fabian?’

‘This makes things complicated,’ he eventually said, sighing and moving further into the darkness.

‘How?’

He sighed again and I saw his eyes go slightly black. ‘I don’t feel the same way about Lyla, if that is what you are thinking.’ He looked out towards the ballroom, before turning back to me, his eyes back to their original colour, but brighter, more alive. More stunning. ‘You’re so young and ignorant. I don’t blame you for not realizing sooner. But I know you don’t feel the same way, so don’t let this change anything. Not one thing, okay?’

My mouth fell open as the realization of what he had just said hit me.
Fabian doesn’t like Lyla. He likes me.
I nodded mindlessly, edging around him.

‘But maybe, one day, you might feel differently. Maybe when you become one of us—’

‘No,’ I whispered. ‘No, no, no.’

‘Violet! Please, listen to me!’

‘No,’ I breathed. I wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.

‘I-I’m t-tired, I think I will go to b-bed,’ I stuttered, turning on my flimsy heel, fleeing from the room.

‘Violet!’ I heard him call, but too late, I had passed through the great doors and out into the entrance hall. I walked towards the open marble door, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. I gazed out at the expansive lawns, knowing it would be so easy just to run right now.

But I wouldn’t.

I took another heaving breath.
How can I have been so stupid? It was obvious! So blazingly obvious!
Why else would he have invited me to the ball? And all those weeks ago, he had volunteered to stay with me whilst the others hunted. Is this why? And what about the others? Do they know? Kaspar must surely know. But does Lyla know?

But he doesn’t like me. He can’t like me. He just thinks he likes me. He doesn’t know me, not properly,
I reassured myself, and it was true. He only knew the defensive mask that I was using to survive and stay sane here.

My eyes began to droop and I trudged up the stairs towards my room. I felt eyes on my back, as some of the passing vampires left through the entrance hall, but I did not have the energy to care.

I reached the top and took one last look down, remembering the first time I had passed through those great doors, wondering if I would ever make the return journey a human.

Ignorant.

For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to be a vampire. What it would be like to truly leave humanity behind. What it would be like if these were my last few minutes of true human life. Could I leave it all behind?

I blinked and a corner became dark for a moment as one of the gas lamps blew out. Sleepy, I turned away, dismissing it. I walked the last few steps towards my room as a single tear fell down my cheek.

Where is the mask now?

I leaned against the wall beside my door, forcing myself not to cry, taking deep, shaky breaths. I had to become stronger. I had to. I leaned my forehead against the cool wall, breathing becoming more regular, hands pressed up against the wall. Something cold brushed against my neck, tickling me, and my hairs immediately stood on end. It felt like a bitter draft.

Except bitter drafts don’t snarl.

I wrenched my whole body around, heart beating at an impossible rate. I clutched at the wall, searching for my door handle.

A figure stepped from the shadows, outlined by the little light that slivered in from downstairs. He was tall and a liquid version of silver seemed to trickle down the side of his face. A red vial glowed around his collar. I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Oh, it’s only you, Ilta.’

My eyes searched the room, but to no avail. Some faces stared back, others scowled, but nowhere amongst them was there a small girl wrapped in purple.

They’re not here. Fuck.

I spotted Fabian and Alex deep in conversation in a dark corner near the door and flitted over, anguish rising. I could sense the tension mounting in my family, as they too shared my worry.

‘Fabian.’ They both turned to look at me. ‘Where’s Violet?’ I asked urgently.

‘She went to bed, about ten minutes ago,’ he said, averting his gaze.
So he told her.

‘What? Didn’t you go with her? Why aren’t you with her?’ I demanded, anguish turning to panic.

It could be nothing. It could just be a coincidence.

‘Kaspar, what—’

‘Ilta Crimson has gone too.’

They looked to each other and then back to me, eyes wide.

‘Oh, God,’ Fabian breathed.

And with that they darted off in different directions. I paused to gauge the room, before quickly flitting off to join the desperate search. Every Varn and friend of ours was looking up, dread turning their eyes colourless.

With sick guilt, my words from earlier echoed around my brain.
Then on your own head be it, Girly.

‘Ilta, what are you doing here?’ I peered closer, as he stood motionless, two paces in front of me. ‘Ilta?’ I called softly once more.

Still he did not move and I waved a hand in front of his face. He seemed to be caught in some sort of trance, eyes glazed over and unseeing.

‘Ilta!’ I said, more sharply. Suddenly, his head twitched and I recoiled away from the unnatural contortion. His body stirred and his arm darted out, a blur, snatching my wrist from midair. I gasped. A shiver rippled along the skin of my arm, across my shoulder and towards my hardworking heart, as it refused to slow its rapid beating. His icy skin scolded mine and I tried to wrench it from his tightening grasp, but I did not have the strength.

‘
Ilta
?’ I struggled once more to pull my arm free, but his grip only became more constricting. I felt the blood drain from my hand and saw it wither and go limp.

‘I am sorry, dear Violet, I was not entirely focused. Caught up in my senses, one might say,’ he purred, oily and slick as he soaked his lips with his saliva. I heard a faint sniffing and begged for my volatile heart to calm. He paused to look at me and I was forced to look into his eyes. Gone was the dark azure. Instead, they were
red
.

I drew in a sharp breath, eyes round, and took a step back, withdrawing away from his snarling, hissing face. He yanked me closer, using the lock he had on my wrist.

‘No, my sweet. You will not go anywhere.’ He pulled me up against his chest, before stooping down and placing a hand on the back of my knees, buckling them. I collapsed into his waiting arms. A second later, I felt the chilly air battering my cheeks and knew he was running from Varnley – where, I did not know. I closed my eyes, attempting to stop the tears falling. Only then did it occur to me to scream. And I did. A horrific, dreadful, spine-chilling scream that rang around out into the night.

But it was futile. No one heard and no one came.

Something sharp caught the skin on my cheek, teasing it away from the lower layers it was stitched to. My eyes flung open to see a bramble slash my skin and I winced as blood oozed from the fresh wound. I tried to raise my arm to wipe it away, but found it immobilized. I looked down and saw it was pinned between my hip and Ilta’s chest, all feeling gone as I tried to bend my fingers.

‘Do you not wish to struggle, sweet child? Do you not wish to be away?’ Ilta soothed, leaning over my face. He opened his mouth a little and I saw his sharp fangs, curved, lethal, as they dug into his lower lip. His breath reeked as he opened his mouth wider, a mixture between the stench of rotting flesh and the salty odour of dried blood. My nose wrinkled and I leaned away.

‘You’re stronger than me, so what would be the point? And get some mouthwash,’ I finished, determined to at least fight with words.

‘We will see if you feel the same way in a while,’ he spat. He leaned down further into my face, and swirling his tongue, licked the blood from my smarting cut. He siphoned every last drop. I could not help but close my eyes as his lips gradually followed my jaw line, until they came to a rest on my neck. He inhaled deeply and I felt him shudder violently. His hand came up to meet his lips and he trailed his fingers slowly across my collar, down to my breasts, inching his fingertips through the crease between them. I gritted my teeth throughout.

He inhaled deeply once more, before shakily exhaling against my skin. ‘Fuck! I cannot wait any longer,’ he hissed.