Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(108)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

I couldn’t finish as my voice broke and I was reduced to sobbing, fighting and muttering prayers for mercy. I had expected my terror to abate at my words, or my heart to stop shattering over and over, but it didn’t. It just made it worse. Guilt washed through me and all I could think about was dying with Kaspar thinking I regretted the past four months. Because I don’t. God, I don’t.

Neither do I, my voice murmured.

I raised my eyes and tried to scream the truth through my sobs but all I saw was Kaspar weaving through the crowds towards the doors, his head turned firmly away. I shut my mouth and stilled as Eaglen began a fresh wave of protests.

‘For the sake of your Kingdom, Vladimir, listen! She’s the Dark—’

He stopped and stared behind me. I was able to focus long enough on his face to register a brief look of relief before suddenly, my feet had left the ground and I was wrenched from the grip of Valerian, Ashton and the other vampire into another’s arms. I screamed as I was pulled backwards, half on my feet and half-dragged away from the King.

Just as abruptly I was dropped as we reached the grass. Whoever held me pulled me fully to my feet and I flung around, ready to struggle or run if I needed to. But to my astonishment, it was Arabella who clung onto me. Her eyes were as wide and astonished as mine as her gaze flitted from Sky to her father to the King and she turned back to me, looking shocked. I felt her gaze linger on the cuts littered over my neck and hands.

‘Are you seriously hurt?’ were the first words from her mouth as her eyes scanned my body. I shook my head but even if I had been hurt, I wouldn’t have acknowledged it because I was staring in the direction of the King: pointing directly at his throat was a sword.

‘King Vladimir Varn, I am required to inform you that under the Terra Treaties Act of 1812, the harming of Miss Violet Lee, henceforth known as the Lady Heroine, is an offence punishable by immediate execution, without trial.’

A gasp as loud as a howling wind spread through the crowd and many dropped to their knees as Sage appeared from nowhere, right sides encased in vibrant scars, swords in some of their hands, magic in others. They grabbed the guards and freed Eaglen, who dashed to Arabella’s side. Daggers appeared at the throats of the Varns and Kaspar was marshalled towards his family.

Valerian was dragged back and pushed to the gravel, magic circling around his wrists as restraints and a sword pointing at his chest, held by a girl. She looked a few years older than I was; her scars a deep burgundy red and startlingly similar to Fallon’s. She glanced up as I stared and nodded in my direction.

The speaker – Canadian, judging by his accent – held the sword to the King’s neck, waiting silently for a response. The King, however, didn’t seem capable of speaking as he looked wordlessly from the man in front of him, to me, just as shocked as everybody else.

‘Her?’ was all he managed.

The man nodded. He waved his hand and a large rolled up sheet of parchment appeared in his hand, sealed with wax and a deep red ribbon. ‘Confirmation of the removal of the Lady Heroine from the protection of King and Crown in the second dimension, to be replaced with the protection of King Ll’iriad Alya Athenea.’ He handed it to the King who snatched it from his hands and ripped the seal open.

His eyes scanned the paper. ‘Does your father no longer have any respect for the power I wield within my own Kingdom, Henry?’

The man took the roll back into his hands and lowered his sword. ‘I believe I speak on behalf of the Sagean people when I say we have no respect for a man who would murder an innocent girl for the crimes of her father.’

The King said nothing and the man – Henry – sheathed his sword. ‘Do you accept the terms?’

The King raised his head with an air of pride, but it seemed hollow at his next words. ‘I have no choice.’

Henry nodded and with a wave of his hand, the Sagean girl lowered her sword from Valerian’s chest and the gleaming restraints around his hands disappeared. He shot her a filthy look, but said nothing as he darted back to the crowd.

‘I suggest you wait for the remainder of your court to arrive and hold a council meeting this evening. There is much to discuss,’ Henry said and with that, turned and walked towards us. The girl joined him and slowly, the other Sage backed away from the vampires, but not by very far. None of the vampires moved.

I stood, rooted to the spot and not really sure of what had just happened. As they neared, they both dropped into full court bows.

‘My Lady,’ they said and I stared, flushing as they both rose and took a further few steps forward. From here I could see that the man had scars of a similar colour to the girl’s – deep red and brown – and that both their eyes were the same brilliant blue.

‘I-it’s just Violet,’ I choked, unsure of how to react, stealing glances at where the Varns stood. The man nodded.

‘Henry,’ he said. ‘I’m Fallon’s older brother. And my sister, Joanna.’

He gestured to the girl and I realized that they must be a Prince and Princess of Athenea. I didn’t pay them any more attention as I locked eyes with Kaspar. I stared at him. He stared back, until he turned on his heel and disappeared inside.

As my vision began to blur I could just see Henry whipping about to follow my gaze before he darted forward to catch me as my knees buckled. I felt myself sink and I could sense the cool dampness of the grass soaking into my shirt.

I knew I was becoming unconscious and the last thing I registered before I retreated into my mind was a voice.

‘No, Henry, leave her. Too much has happened for her mind to cope with. Leave her …’

Wherever I was felt oddly familiar. I knew the feel of the rug beneath my feet, plush but worn beside the door and beneath the bedposts. I knew the wood of the walls. The smell. The way the light loitered around the French doors.

I dropped down onto Kaspar’s bed and threw myself back, utterly convinced I was dreaming – I was too calm to be awake.

Everything was so clear now – the course of my life, before a puzzle, had slotted together to make a straight line; one that led to here; now; the beginning of my life as a Heroine.

Greg, an innocent, had died and I had turned to Joel. Joel had cheated and I had turned to clubbing every weekend, and that had pulled my line right across Kaspar’s. The Queen had died so he would kill Claude Pierre and create the Bloodbath. And at that moment, the two lengths of string we both trod knotted and we became tied.

‘But now he hates me,’ I whispered to the stillness.