Dinner With a Vampire (The Dark Heroine #1)(90)
Author: Abigail Gibbs

His question was blunt and the rich colour of my cheeks only deepened. I took a deep breath. ‘Will you turn me? I don’t fancy anyone else taking a chunk out of me and you’ve bitten me before and well, it’s just – well – I don’t know,’ I gushed. I waited a couple of seconds before I looked his way.

At first he looked surprised, but then his eyes betrayed him and his expression became darker.

‘You don’t have to,’ I faltered. Oh God, but please say you will. Say you will and you’ll pluck this lump beneath my ribs right out.

‘I’ll have to talk to Father about it, considering his touching rule and he’ll take it to the council, who will decide if it’s … appropriate for you to be my charge or not. It’s not up to me, sorry.’ He briefly glanced at me and I knew I must look crushed. ‘Like I said, there’s no room for free will here.’

That lump seemed to lodge itself somewhere in the vicinity of my heart, but I accepted it solemnly, knowing he spoke the truth about decision-making.

‘Kaspar, are you all right? You don’t seem too pleased about all this?’

His step faltered. ‘Not pleased? Of course I’m pleased. You really are funny sometimes, Girly.’

He glanced behind us uneasily before pulling his collar up around his neck. I followed his gaze, staring back at the clearing, just visible between the dark pillars. The trees that just moments ago had thrashed about like they were caught in a livid storm were now perfectly still, but the sun – the welcomed winter sun – had disappeared, shielded behind a mass of grey clouds. They rolled in, snatching at the blue skies, blown along by the absent wind. Stealing glimpses between the canopy, I could see each bank rising higher and higher as ascending steps to some hellish place, white tufts caught up in their extending claws, churning them until they too were part of the monotone mix. It was not normal, and neither was the decision I had made in the clearing. Something strange was happening, and I did not like it.

FIFTY-TWO

Kaspar

You needed to tell—

You didn’t tell her?

Two voices unanimously rung in my head: one my voice, the other belonging to Alex.

You heard?

Alex knew. It was Alex who I had confided in the moment I had returned from Romania. It was Alex who had counselled me through it – he beat discussing it with father, Eaglen and Arabella, the only others who knew.

A guilty image flashed through my head of him dropping back, allowing my sister and Fabian to get ahead until he was close enough to hear us.

Sorry.

I couldn’t do it, Alex. I can’t hurt her. She wants to become a vampire and I know it’s because of me. She wants me to turn her, for Christ’s sake! My fists clenched and I stuffed them into the pockets of my jacket so she wouldn’t see.

The longer you leave it, Kaspar, the more you will hurt her; the more you’ll hurt yourself.

I know, I groaned in my mind, frustrated and feeling more helpless than I had in a lifetime. How have things changed so quickly? A few weeks ago she had been a game. Now, without me even noticing, she was closer to my heart than it seemed anyone had ever been.

Think of it this way: if you don’t tell her soon, she will become a vampire and she will have nowhere else to go but Varnley. I’m no emotional expert, but do you really think Violet could live under your roof after you betray her like that? She would never forgive you. She would want to know why you let her fall for you, why you slept with her, why you saved her and why you’re showing so much affection for her when you knew damned well you couldn’t be together. Do you have the answers to those questions?

My silence answered his reasoning. Ignorance was my only plea, and that only applied to before I had been sent to Romania. It didn’t apply now.

If I had known it was possible to become so infatuated, so quickly – for a plucky little human teenager, of all things – I would have guarded myself better. But I didn’t, and now we both had to pay the price.

She deserves better than to be betrayed, Kaspar. Alex said.

I know, I moaned again, hopelessness becoming overwhelming. Whether I told her or not, she would end up hurt, but I knew what the right thing to do was. She shouldn’t have to endure prolonged suffering. Yet my own selfishness told me that I could wait a little longer, just until the end of the hunting trip. I only wanted to get close to her once more, like I had done in her room, so nearly revealing that I couldn’t face losing her, to death or to her father.

Tonight … when we set up camp. I won’t touch her. I just need to get close. Just once more.

Once more won’t hurt, my voice added, laced with encouragement.

Just until tomorrow, I reaffirmed.

Alex sighed heavily in defeat. I’ve known you since we were at school, Kaspar, and I have known all that time that you are a great man. But unless you sort this, you are never going to be a good one.

With that he severed our mental connection, disappearing into the midst of the consciences surrounding us. He left a sizzling trail of anger and disappointment behind which I did my best to ignore. I had enough on my mind without his disapproval troubling me. I closed my eyes briefly, letting my senses guide me as we descended further towards the estuary.

Fate is our enemy, but time is the danger.

FIFTY-THREE

Violet

If I had thought vampires were predators before, then my experience joining them on the hunt only convinced me that they were perfectly adapted killing machines.

‘See, look here, tracks,’ Kaspar whispered, pointing to the ground where there were several hoof marks. ‘What do you reckon made them?’

I scrunched up my face for a minute, pretending to think. ‘Feet?’

He groaned dejectedly, exasperated of my antics. For the last hour they had been slowly tracking their prey. Kaspar had attempted to teach me a few things, but I wasn’t interested after learning that once he had showed me it was possible not to kill when feeding, he was going to go ahead and kill anyway.

‘What animal, Girly, what animal?’

I rolled my eyes and took a guess. ‘Deer?’

‘Finally,’ he muttered. ‘And how old do you think the deer that made this print is?’

‘Just turned twenty-one. Celebrated with champagne.’

He buried his face in his hands, groaning even louder. ‘Lords of Earth, give me strength!’

I cocked my head. ‘Sorry, but I’m vegetarian and the thought of seeing dead deer just isn’t filling me with excitement. Can’t you just show me how you don’t kill the deer?’