Dinner With a Vampire (22 page)

‘But face it, Vi, you are not going to make it out of this human. Do you really think your father can get you out of this? Do you really think you can just leave? Do you even want to leave?’ he finished, glaring at me as my mouth fell open.

‘Maybe this isn’t such a good time to talk about this,’ Kaspar offered, leaning against the counter.

‘Fuck off, Kaspar,’ Fabian snapped.

The other man sprang up, hands in the air, whistling. ‘Don’t shoot the mediator.’

‘You are going to be that nice vampire chick, Vi. Better than Lyla. Maybe not soon. But you will be, because I know you can’t live like this for a lifetime. Don’t you get it? This is all a waiting game. We are waiting for you to buckle. And I will wait until you buckle, whether you like it or not!’

I felt like I had been slapped. Kaspar gritted his teeth, running a hand down the side of his face as Fabian’s chest heaved.

‘It’s Violet, not Vi.’ Leaving my tea behind, I stormed from the room.
I don’t need this. I don’t have to put up with this.
However, Fabian darted after me and, just as I stepped onto the carpet of the living room, he grabbed my arm, swinging me back around.

‘If you deny me your affections, then at least tell me one thing,’ he demanded in a tone of voice I had never heard him use before.
Loathing.
‘You wouldn’t deny Kaspar, would you?’

My face formed into a scowl. ‘I would, and have!’

‘I can’t believe that,’ Fabian muttered. ‘I will wait for you. I will.’

I didn’t hang around to listen to him. Darting back up the stairs, I hesitated before throwing myself through the door to my room, realizing I was being stupid. The windows to my room were locked; there was no way he could get in.

I found a fresh pair of socks and used them to replace the ones I was wearing, diving onto the bed and smothering my face in the freshly changed sheets. I enjoyed the complete darkness behind my eyelids, knowing it was only a matter of time before tears would start to fall.

He could have waited. He didn’t have to bring it up now. Did he think I don’t have enough to think about? Was Ilta not enough?

His name made me feel dirty; contaminated. It was as though he had singed the parts of my skin his hands and fangs had passed over, leaving me to burn and crumble.

You can’t crumble,
my voice said.
You’re stronger than that.

‘Budge over, Girly; you’re taking up the whole bed.’

I was prepared to spring up when I heard the voice, but relaxed back down into the mattress when I realized it was Kaspar. I didn’t move. After a moment, I heard the bed springs at the end of the bed groan as he leaned against it.

‘He’s only being a bitch over this because he isn’t used to being rejected by human girls, you know.’

‘I’m a dhampir, remember?’ I answered, voice muffled by the sheets.

‘Tomahto, tomayto.’

I rolled over onto my back and dragged myself upright, propping myself against the pillows.
I won’t buckle. They can wait all they like.
But I couldn’t look at Kaspar whilst thinking that. Maybe I was afraid my face would betray my determination. Maybe I was afraid I would fall out of favour – and right now, I needed that favour.

I sighed. ‘Are there many dhampirs?’

He nodded. ‘About a thousand. A fraction of the total number of vampires. Most of them are hunters or slayers.’

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Rank. Slayers are more skilled than hunters, but to be honest, they’re all rotten bastards. I don’t tend to discriminate.’ Unsurprisingly, his eyes flashed black. I let my head fall against my knees, drawn into my own thoughts, trying to suppress the rising image of Trafalgar Square.
I know you don’t discriminate.

Kaspar didn’t return for the rest of the day and, in the end, I figured he must have gone hunting. Fabian didn’t come near me and everybody else left me alone. This was exactly what I didn’t want. To lose the one vampire I was close to calling a friend.

With the daylight pouring in, the empty room didn’t seem so menacing and maybe I even welcomed the time alone. But then, the next minute, I would perch on the windowsill, watching the edge of the forest and half-expecting a figure to appear from their cover.

Why had
my
life turned upside down? I should be starting university, not stuck with creatures that shouldn’t even exist.

And Ilta. What had he said?
That I should die? That he was
saving
me?

To top it all off, Fabian’s words from earlier refused to leave my overcrowded, frantic mind.

‘Do you really think you can just leave? Do you even want to
leave?’

I should know the answer to that right away, but I didn’t, and that was what bothered me.
I don’t know,
I thought, as I forced my eyes closed, wanting to sleep.
I really don’t know.

I was still asleep, I knew that. And yet, I was aware of my surroundings, but not truly conscious.

I could feel the cold wind tickling my skin, hear it whistling against the glass, hear the floor depressing and creaking slightly. I could feel the sound of metal scraping against metal and even in my barely awake state, it made my teeth clench. The voiles rustled, as though blowing in a gentle wind – one that might blow through an open door. The clock ticked on and I could hear dust settling on the furniture. It seemed to become darker for a moment, like curtains had been drawn around my sleeping form.

I felt and heard the mattress depress, but still I did not open my eyes. I felt cold skin brushing my own, but I didn’t move, or even think to scream.

I felt his weight held perfectly on top of me, heard his icy breath as I felt the burn of him gazing down at me. I felt every inch of carved flawlessness arch into my corpse, felt the lust and want, need,
no,
thirst, pumping through his veins.

When I did open my eyes, the first thing I saw was that the window furthest away, almost as tall as I was and normally securely locked, was now flung wide open, a chilly breeze passing through. Only then did it occur to me that something was not right. Then I opened my mouth to scream.

He snarled, hastily clamping a hand over my mouth. I attempted to bite at his fingers, but found myself quickly subdued.

‘Play nicely now,’ he mocked, pressing himself closer. I caught sight of the deranged, lustful glint in his blood-red eyes. My eyes widened and I was hushed to silence, terrified.

‘Come on, Girly, just a little drop of blood. I’m so hungry. You’ll enjoy it.’

I scowled, and thrashed about as he lay draped across me, pressing his crotch hard into my stomach.

‘Kaspar, get off me!’ I spat, as he removed his hand. He stared down at me, his eyes consumed by bloodlust and I could almost smell his throat as it singed, desperate to quench the thirst.

‘If you scream, I swear I’ll kill you, so I suggest you keep quiet,’ he muttered, looking me in the eye, carefully pronouncing each word.

I scowled once more. ‘But what about the Protection?’ He faltered for a moment, eyes dulling a little.

‘Give me your consent.’

I blinked. He said those words almost remorsefully.

‘What’s wrong with the donor stuff?’

It was his turn to blink. ‘It doesn’t taste as good as your blood,’ he stated slowly, as though it were obvious. His eyes were rapidly fading, leaving crimson behind, emerald fast returning. But I could still smell the stench of burning flesh. He was still thirsty.

‘Please,’ he breathed.

His voice was so pleading, so desperate, like the piteous call of a starving child; and I whispered a word I should never even have thought of:

‘Okay.’

Immediately, his eyes flared red again and I tensed beneath him. He chuckled, but it was not the cruel laugh I was used to; more one of quiet amusement. His eyes trailed over the tank top and shorts I had changed into earlier that night and he smiled slyly.

‘Let me help you enjoy this.’

Slowly, very slowly, he allowed his full weight to rest on me and I groaned, feeling my chest compressing. He chuckled once more, but eased away an inch. His hand searched for mine, finding it pinned to my side. He stroked my fingers for a moment, before trailing a finger up the length of my arm. I shuddered at his touch, goose bumps forming.

I should
not
be enjoying this. I was almost drained a few days ago. I should cower away from his touch, I should be scared.
But I didn’t and I wasn’t.
And he saved me.
Now, maybe, I could save him.

His hand trailed across my collar, brushing the tops of my scars. I squirmed away then, but he had worked a hand behind my back, pulling me into him. It dug into my spine and I winced, but he ignored me; he was occupied as his hand trailed the vein on my neck, his eyes intently watching its rhythm.

His head sunk lower and I stiffened, expecting pain to erupt. But it didn’t. Instead, soft lips began kissing my neck.

‘W-what are you doing?’ I faltered.

‘Just relax and enjoy,’ he murmured into my neck. It sent tingles dancing along my skin and I suppressed an intake of breath.

You wouldn’t deny Kaspar, would you?

Instead, I sighed, quietly, almost inwardly, and gradually relaxed. He leisurely trailed tender kisses down my throat, along my collarbone, until he reached my silvery scars, where he paused, breathing onto my skin before his tongue began to trace the indents. I jolted a little, as it tickled. He laughed and brought his lips back to my jaw line. His dark hair brushed my lips and I blew it gently away.

His head abruptly returned to my neck and I went rigid, sure he would bite this time. But again he began kissing my neck, his teeth grazing my flesh. But these kisses were deeper, more urgent and I shuddered under him.

‘I know you want to moan, Girly,’ he purred into my neck, and I could tell from his arrogant tone and full lips that he was smirking. ‘Go on …’

I will get to you, Violet Lee …

His hands began rubbing my side. I pursed my lips, as his own delved frantically at my neck. I whimpered beneath him, fighting and flailing.

‘Give in,’ he whispered as his mouth brushed my ear. And I did. A small moan escaped my lips and I compulsively found myself arching into him, forcing every inch of flesh to meet his. He pressed me further into the bed and yet another moan slipped through my lips. He was smirking into my neck again as his hand slipped up my side.

Suddenly, he picked me up and pressed me hard against the wall; hard enough that the panelling dug into my spine, like it had done that first morning.
‘You’ll bleed less if you are standing,’ he explained. ‘Just relax,’ he whispered, but I had gone rigid again, scared at just the sight of his fangs. He sighed, exasperatedly. ‘It will hurt less if you relax.’

One hand wrapped itself around my waist, palm pressed firmly into the hollow of my back, pulling me to him. The other hand swept the hair from my shoulders, exposing my bare flesh.

He tilted my head out of the way, moving closer the whole time, head lowering towards the pulsating vein of my neck. I tried to pull away from him as his lips parted slightly, revealing his fangs.

His mouth met my neck and I heard him inhale my scent. His tongue darted out, licking the spot where he intended to bite, hovering over my vein. His lips parted a little more and he softly kissed my skin. A shudder of pleasure ignited me, sending my mind into spasm, my body falling into his waiting arms, as my resolve evaporated.

The instant he felt me wilt he sank his fangs deep into my flesh, blood surging from the wounds, trickling across and smearing my skin.

I opened my mouth to scream, but all that came out was a muffled cry. A hand was clamped over my mouth, forcing my jaws together, stifling the sound. I felt him drink, taking short shallow breaths, panting, eyes gleaming red, a trickle of blood running down his chin. I backed further into the wall, but he pulled me back quickly.

‘Don’t scream,’ he ordered, lowering his head once more. I cowered away.

‘It hurts,’ I whimpered through his fingers, shaking. To my surprise his eyes softened, but he didn’t ease up as his fangs sunk into my neck once more. As he continued to suck, my jaw tightened and tightened, attempting to ignore the horrifying drawing sensation. It was like a blood test gone very, very wrong.

The thought of what was actually happening made my vision waver, and, sure enough, seconds later I blacked out, falling forward onto his shoulder. He withdrew at once and my eyes flickered open as he caught me.

‘Whoa there,’ he breathed, steadying me. I felt myself straightening up, sandwiched between the wall and his cold body.

‘You okay?’ he asked, genuine concern in his voice. I nodded shakily in reply. ‘I think I’m full.’ He laughed, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. Again I nodded, taking a few raspy deep breaths. The tunnel vision was disappearing, the pounding in my head subsiding. There was a strange tingling on my neck, exactly where the wounds were and I reached up to touch them.

What should be two mangled puncture wounds were now small incisions, stitching themselves together.

‘H-how is that p-possible?’ I began, but he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

‘Vampires are fantasy, Girly. Anything is possible.’

‘But—’

‘It happens every time we take blood. Otherwise you would bleed to death. Haven’t you noticed it before?’

I shook my head. ‘But then when
he
bit me, how did I lose all that blood?’

‘He drank it all,’ Kaspar replied bluntly, averting his gaze. I lowered mine to the floor.

The blood was drying, caking itself to my skin and leaving bloody streaks all across my chest and neck. I went to wipe it away, but Kaspar caught my hand.

‘Allow me.’ His head lowered to the top of my breast and his tongue traced the line of my top. He gradually worked his way up towards my neck, lapping at the blood; and by the feel of his leisurely pace, he was savouring every last drop. His hand had begun to caress my side again.