Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(68)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

I arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you admitting you’re a stuck-up arrogant jerk then?’

‘I never denied it.’

I hummed sceptically, walking around the car and snatching the keys he had just pulled from his pocket.

‘I’m driving.’

He made to lunge towards me, hand outstretched to grab the keys, but I jumped out of his reach. Wrapping my fingers tightly around the metal I hid them behind my back, side-stepping towards his car.

‘Do you even have a license?’ he grunted, darting around me.

‘Yes.’

It was his turn to be sceptic as he continued to follow me around to the driver’s side, playing along with my game – he could easily catch me if he wanted to. After protesting that I was perfectly capable of driving (he was worried I would hurt his ‘baby’), he begrudgingly gave up and walked around to the passenger’s side.

‘I still don’t forgive you,’ I said.

He paused, his face faintly amused. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to, you’re far too stubborn.’ He opened the door and slid in. I wasn’t far behind.

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I demanded.

‘You really want to know?’

‘Yes,’ I replied, adamant.

‘You don’t give a damn that I killed that girl. You wouldn’t give a damn if I killed a hundred girls. You only care because you just can’t take the fact that it destroys your perfect little perception that we – I – am not a predator by nature.’ He watched me, gauging my expression.

‘I know you’re a killer, I’m not stupid,’ I sighed, jamming the keys into the ignition. ‘You have fangs, for Pete’s sake!’

I know he’s a predator. I can never forget it, despite what he thinks. Scars and marks dotted my body; endless reminders of what he and others were capable of, and what a vampire would do to get his or her way. But he’s right about one thing. It doesn’t really bother me that he killed that girl. Of course I felt bad; she had died instead of me and I knew I would live with the guilt of knowing others were sacrificed on my part. But I had seen them slaughter and devour so many humans and vampires alike that I was almost numb to it.

‘But do you?’ he questioned, wincing as I thrust the car into gear.

‘Yes! I have the bloody marks to prove it!’ I pointed at my neck, pulling my collar aside.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at my neck. ‘I’m not convinced. You still think you can alter what we are and you can’t. You just can’t …’ He trailed off, looking out of his window.

‘I’m not trying to change you. I just don’t agree with killing for food. I’m veggie, after all.’

‘Whatever. Left here,’ he mumbled as I turned out onto the main road. I sensed that the conversation was over and we fell into silence. Keeping my eyes on the road, I felt the quiet purr of the engine beneath my hands. It had been a while since I had driven; and then it was only my mother’s car in the congested centre of Chelsea. I had never driven anything this powerful or expensive, and never on sweeping coast roads either. A jolt of anxiety shot like an electric bolt up my arm as I thought of what Kaspar would do if I got so much as a scratch on his precious ‘baby’; of what he could do. I might have been bitten multiple times but it still terrified me and my breathing hitched as I remembered the pain and the drawing sensation.

I was transported back from my own thoughts as we entered a town, empty and still for the night. I followed the road around until we were trailing the sea again, passing a pier stretching out into the mud flat and eventually the murky waters of the Thames estuary.

‘Where do I—’

‘Head for the Isle of Grain but turn off at the sign for All Hallows. Then head for Low Marshes.’

‘Right,’ I muttered, surprised at his bluntness and sudden change of tone. I risked a glance his way to see that his eyes were fixed out of the window, his brow creased and his lips pursed into a thin line. I frowned.

His head snapped around. ‘What?’

I abruptly turned back to the road, blushing.

The night seemed to be getting darker, the sky losing the glowing halo of orange light the city adored so much. Here, it was clearer and the stars were dotted across the sky, like a child had sprinkled glitter across a dark sheet, only losing its sparkle when the occasional cloud wafted over. The roads were empty and we had already long left the main drag when the road started to narrow. I spotted the sign for Low Marshes and followed the arrow, gradually climbing away from the sea towards the rolling hills of Varnley.

It was strange to think it, but I yearned to be back within the thick walls of the mansion, tucked between cold sheets and inhaling stagnant air. It felt oddly safe – though it was far from – and I began to wonder if I was equating imprisonment with security. At Varnley, I made no decisions. At Varnley, I was just along for the ride.

But when I returned, much as I wanted the day to end, I knew there was a very real possibility that a decision on my humanity could have been made for me by this ‘inter-dimensional council’. That was one choice that should be my own.

And then there was the thought that I had almost kissed Kaspar.

A glare in the mirrors caught my attention. Chasing our tail was a car, headlights on full beam. Unnerved by how close it was getting, I sped up.

The car behind us had dropped back, obviously taking the hint that I liked my space. Kaspar let his head fall against the window again, his fingers rubbing circles around his temples.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright. ‘Slayers,’ he hissed. Then he exploded. ‘Pull over! Get out!’ he roared, but it barely penetrated. ‘Out! Violet, move!’ I did as he ordered. Slayers. ‘I’m driving, get in now!’ Slayers. ‘Violet!’

‘Slayers,’ I breathed. ‘Here …’ The Slayers from my dream. It had to be.

He threw his hands in the air from the opposite side of the car, thumping them down on the roof with a thud. ‘Yes, slayers, here for you, now get around here!’

I thought I was looking at him but all I saw was the dark sky, grey, rolling and dangerous. I thought I was hearing him but all I heard was the howling of the wind as it picked up, rustling the leaves. I thought he was speaking but all I heard was my own voice, quiet and timid compared to the awe of the thunder that had just crashed.

‘Here for me. I could go home …’

A quiet snarl escaped his lips. ‘No.’