Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(11)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

He looked sincere enough and I scrambled down the stairs until I caught up with him. He opened the door and led me across the living room and through another door. It was like stepping through a time portal. Whereas the main entrance hall didn’t look as though it had changed in hundreds of years, the passage we walked down was thoroughly modern and, as we entered the kitchen, I was hit by an array of stainless steel and glass counters, cabinets and tables, although the floor was made of the same marble as the entrance.

Fabian rounded the breakfast bar and began searching through the cupboards. ‘Do you like toast?’ he asked, his head popping up above the counter. I nodded, hoisting myself up onto a stool. ‘Toast it is then,’ he said, dropping a couple of slices of brown bread into a toaster. I watched him as he pulled a plate from another cupboard, fascinated by his fluid movements. He met my gaze.

‘Hey, I know I’m inhumanly hot, but you don’t have to stare.’ A huge grin appeared on his face and he winked.

I blushed a tomato red and my eyes hit the floor before bouncing back up to him. ‘I wasn’t staring.’

He put his hands in the air. ‘Sure,’ he chuckled. ‘Good to see you talking though. You don’t strike me as the shy type.’

He’s right, I thought. I’m not usually shy, but then again, I’m not usually being held captive by vampires.

I continued to watch him as he pulled the door of the fridge open and took the butter out. Before he closed it again, I caught a glimpse of several tall bottles containing a red liquid that didn’t look like wine. I shuddered.

‘I’m sorry I can’t do anything nicer than toast, but we only keep snacks in here,’ he nattered, spreading the butter on the bread, which was burnt around the crust. ‘The servants usually cook downstairs when we actually want food and not blood.’

He slid the plate towards me, took one look at my face and then spoke again. ‘Okay, you have questions.’

I nodded, biting on my lower lip. ‘Can I ask anything?’

For a second, a flicker of doubt crossed his face, but it soon disappeared. ‘Of course,’ he replied. I didn’t speak for another minute or two as I rehearsed what I wanted to say in my head. He said nothing, pouring a glass of juice and pushing that in my direction too.

‘It’s real, all of this, isn’t it?’

He placed his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands, watching me with as much fascination as I had watched him. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘I don’t want to believe any of this, but I do. I’ve seen too much not to.’ I tugged on a strand of hair, picking out patterns in the marble floor.

‘‘How many have you killed?’

‘I’m not sure I should tell you that,’ he murmured.

‘How many?’ I repeated.

‘Hundreds, thousands, maybe … I lost count,’ he said. I felt my eyes widen and I leaned away from him. That many? He shook his head. ‘Don’t look at me like that, that is a pretty good track record considering I am two hundred-and-one.’ The calm blue of his eyes dissolved and became black.

‘What about the others?’ I managed to whisper, my voice hoarse as I fought back the horror.

‘Kaspar, thousands, and Cain, around thirty, but only because he isn’t full-fledged yet. I’m not sure about the others.’

My fingers gripped the edge of the steel counter, warming the spot they touched. ‘Can’t you drink donor stuff?’

‘We could.’

‘But you choose to kill people instead.’

‘No,’ he hissed and I was taken aback at his sudden change of tone. ‘We choose to drink from humans. We don’t set out to kill them.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I breathed. ‘Was that the plan when you killed all those men in Trafalgar Square? Because it didn’t look like you were just dropping by for a pint to me.’

His eyebrows lowered. ‘That was different.’

‘Was it?’

He didn’t answer and I went back to my toast. Aware that he was watching me, I lowered my head and hid behind my hair, which was drying and twisting into ringlets. It chilled me that he could talk of the people he had killed as though they were just numbers and not people with loved ones and hopes and dreams. It chilled me even more that he wanted my approval. But they were his prey and it was probably easier for him to think like that.

‘I know you think that we’re murderers, Violet. And I know you would do anything right now to get out of here, but maybe, for your own sake, it would be better if you hold judgement until you know us better.’

I didn’t move my gaze away from the plate, afraid he might see my eyebrows arching in disbelief. I’m not going to get to know you any better, I thought. I’m not going to hang around for long enough.

Don’t be so sure, the voice in my head chuckled. It wasn’t my mind imagining someone chuckling, but the actual sound, bouncing off my skull. I heard Fabian say something and I blinked a few times, coming back to my senses.

‘What does full-fledged mean?’

He walked around the counter and pulled up a stool beside me. I shifted my stool back. ‘Changing the subject, are we?’ His eyes had returned to blue and a watery sheen coated them, making them twinkle in the light that slipped through the small windows high up the walls. ‘A fully-fledged vampire is an adult vampire.’

Seeing my confused face, he smiled. ‘A vampire born into vampirism – yes, most vampires are born and not turned,’ he added, interrupting himself. ‘A born vampire ages normally until he or she is eighteen. As in each year, they look a year older. They are not fully grown yet, so they are slightly weaker and not as thirsty. Cain is sixteen, so he won’t be full-fledged for another two years. Get it?’

I flicked a crumb across the plate. ‘Sort of. But what happens when a vampire reaches eighteen?’

I went to flick another crumb, but the plate tipped and fell off the edge of the counter. I cringed, waiting for it to smash. But the sound never came as Fabian reached down and snatched it from midair. Unfazed, he placed it back on the counter, brushing the remaining crumbs onto the floor.

‘We get faster and stronger,’ he said in a low voice, watching me watching him, my mouth ajar. He had moved so fast; so effortlessly. ‘And we start to age, but very slowly. Centuries pass and it doesn’t put a year on us.’

‘So vampires aren’t immortal?’ I asked, feeling a slight spark of interest.