Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(41)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

‘Then we will leave you. I suggest you rest. Someone will not be far at any time, if you are in need of anything.’ They began to leave, Kaspar lingering for a second. The room fell silent, and swiftly, something clutched at my throat. Fear. I stared straight ahead, eyes bulging. I could not be alone. He would return to finish what he started.

‘Kaspar,’ I whispered. He turned. ‘Please stay.’

‘What?’ he replied, going stiff.

‘Please stay. I-I don’t want to be alone.’ I closed my eyes.

There was a pause where nothing penetrated the silence. But then the door clicked closed and I was sure he’d gone. The fear rose again, gripping me. I couldn’t be alone. The floor creaked. My heart stopped. The sound of footsteps muffled by plush carpet, and then silence. Slowly, I cracked open an eye.

He stood there, leaned casually against the post of my bed. His dark, almost-black hair flopped lazily across his eyes – the sun-streaked tresses were fading now, as summer turned to autumn. The lack of light too had turned his skin more deathly, more haunting, although that may have been my eyes seeing more clearly.

‘You stayed.’ My eyes flitted up to his and he nodded slightly.

‘I’m not as heartless as you think.’

There was silence.

‘You saved my life.’ I frowned. ‘Twice.’ He looked at the carpet. I looked to the sheets.

‘Yes, I guess I did. But if you die … your father, so …’

I nodded hastily. Lips pursed shut, I averted my eyes out the window. I heard him shuffle slightly.

‘Thanks, though. If you hadn’t come, I don’t know what he would have done.’

He waved his hand in the air, silencing me. ‘You remember all of it?’ He looked horrified.

I nodded sombrely. ‘Everything, up until I passed out.’ My vision glazed over and a shudder of disgust passed through me as I remembered Ilta’s words to me.

When you are alive to feel the shame, Violet Lee, feel yourself violated, it makes it far more fun, you see …

But Kaspar had saved me from that fate – by the narrowest of margins. Kaspar had warned me away from him in the first place.

I was stupid, so stupid for trusting Ilta; for letting him close to me. Kaspar had been right. I should have stayed away. But I let him dance with me. I left the ball alone. This is my fault.

I buried my face in my hands, ashamed to let Kaspar see me breaking down like this. I should be strong. I should just accept it.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said in a low voice. I looked up, surprised. His eyes were jet black and his fists were clenched. He had one arm wrapped around the post and was almost shaking. He might be staring at me, but he didn’t see me.

‘He will die for what he did to you. He’ll be ripped and torn and burnt until he is begging for mercy, which he won’t receive.’

‘Please, don’t say that,’ I breathed, as horrific images rolled through my mind. Bile rose in my throat and I gagged. His eyes snapped back to emerald.

‘Why? Don’t you want revenge?’

I shrugged, his words bringing on a fresh wave of tears. To try to stop myself from descending into sobs, I focused on my clenched palms and shuffled under the sheets, noticing how hot the room was and how a layer of sweat and oil coated my skin. The mud and blood might have gone, but I felt unclean and not in a way I felt I could wash off, but I wanted to try anyway.

‘Is there any chance I could have a shower?’

‘Yes, of course. You can have a bath, if you’d prefer.’ His eyes turned a faint pink colour. I nodded. ‘I’ll get one of the maids to run you one then.’

‘Don’t go!’ I insisted.

He smiled lopsidedly. ‘I won’t.’

Closing his eyes for a moment, I was forced to look at closed eyelids. His lopsided smile, something I had rarely seen, remained on his lips. It was partway between a smile and a smirk.

‘They’re running one now, in the bathroom opposite.’ He jerked his head towards the door.

‘Thanks.’ I twisted, throwing the sheets off and caught a glimpse of the clothes I was wearing: nothing but a long baggy T-shirt.

‘I’ll get you some clothes,’ he said, disappearing into the wardrobe, appearing again a moment later, handing me a pair of leggings, a long, light wool jumper and fresh underwear.

‘You need to keep warm,’ he explained, facing away from me, looking out the French doors. I took the clothes, tucked them under my arm and inched off the bed, gripping the post for support. Feeling like a child trying to take her first steps, I got to the bathroom, blushing wildly at Kaspar’s fussing.

‘Will you be okay on your own? I will be in my room, if, well …’

I nodded. Scented steam hit me as soon as I stepped in, wafts of lavender escaping into the corridor. The mirror was coated in condensation and all the fittings were dripping with water – so was my skin as I hung my fresh clothes over the rail furthest from the bath. Reaching to shut the door, I noticed that the key for the lock had been removed.

I grabbed a towel from the rail and stripped down as quickly as I could, wrapping the towel around myself. I did not dare look at my body. I fiddled with the support on my wrist, struggling with the Velcro, which might as well have been glued shut.

When I managed to free my wrist, I wiped a patch on the mirror, holding my breath. I did not want to do this. But I had to.

I let the towel drop and gasped. Most of the smaller scratches and cuts had healed; so had the larger wounds on my right side, but on the left, five strips of shiny, mottled skin ran across my br**sts and down my stomach. I touched the top of one of them, wincing as it stung, noticing that the scars on my neck that had been pinpricks were now each as big as my thumb. I sank onto the edge of the bath, covering myself back up again.

His face, his laugh, his slick, oily voice filled my head, and I could feel him touching me once more, hear his panting breaths, smell the reek of blood.

It is my duty to ensure you die before you ever fulfil your fate.

And he’ll come back to finish me off. I know it. How can I carry on, knowing that? As I thought that, my eyes fell on something glinting on the side of the bath. A razor.

Think about it, Violet. What do you have to go back to? What is there left for you?

I had done it once. But I remembered the blood and how much there was of it; blood seemed too precious to go to waste now. Neither did I want to be sucked dry.

All of a sudden, the door burst open and Kaspar flitted in. He brushed past me and I sprang up as fast as the pain in my stomach and my stiff legs would allow, tightening the towel.