Dinner with a Vampire
Page 16I gasped.
Hundreds of couples were gathered about the glittering room, the ladies in elegant ball gowns and gentlemen in dress suits. The only source of light came from the chandelier, which threw a pool of light onto the centre of the room. Waiters, dressed in white, weaved about the guests, carrying tall flutes containing a liquid that I’m sure wasn’t wine.
Heads turned as we entered the room, eyes of every colour staring curiously up at us.
‘Is that her? The human?’
‘She doesn’t look human …’
Voices broke through the low murmur, as more and more people turned to look. But I didn’t care. Everywhere I looked there were dark flowing dresses, almost all wearing blood-like crimsons and maroons, blacks and shades of midnight blue and I gripped the banister of the balcony on which we stood with a sort of feverish excitement, breathless as my childish imaginings of fairytale balls were proved true.
Every person in the room looked so dark, so compelling, as the soft light illuminated their haunting, emaciated faces. They were not perfect, like the stories always said: they were not moral enough to be perfect. But they were as damned near as nature could get.
‘Violet?’ I turned to see Fabian beaming down at me, hand on my arm as he took in my animation.
‘It’s beautiful,’ I whispered.
‘Like you,’ he whispered back. My smile faltered and my eyes flickered up and down as they struggled to meet his.
‘I—’
‘Come on,’ he said, pulling me by the arm towards the left-hand set of steps. We descended and began to meander through the crowd. Some parted as we came their way with a respectful silence; others turned away in disgust. Fabian was guiding me, and glancing around; a frown appeared on his face. He muttered something that I could not hear and suddenly his expression was clear again. He grabbed my hand, and started pulling me back through the swarm of people again, who buzzed like flies.
‘Fabian, where exactly are we going?’ I asked, sensing he was leading me somewhere.
‘To my parents.’
‘What?’ I exclaimed. My expression must have looked panicked, because he shot me a ‘be sensible’ glare. I dug my heels in and put up a protest anyway until he gave up.
‘Later then,’ he warned above the sound of the orchestra on the far side of the room, retuning with the grand piano. Gone was the soft, soothing music. Instead, the violins drew out three long, clashing, spine-chilling notes and launched into the most haunting fanfare I had ever heard.
The marching beat of a huge timpani drum sounded, and the violins followed, notes crisp and unforgiving as deep, resounding horns echoed around the room.
The crowd parted, creating a winding path leading from the grand door to the throne at the far end of the room. The hairs on my neck stood on end, as the bloodcurdling sound of a choir joined in with the strings.
My blood ran cold.
‘What’s happening?’ I muttered in an undertone to Fabian, extremely conscious of the vampires opposite staring at us. Whatever was happening, I didn’t like it, as an unwelcome spirit began to take over my flesh, making me shiver, my stomach roll, my legs go weak.
‘The Varns are arriving,’ was all the reply I got.
A compelling thrill rippled through the crowd as they waited with such electrifying excitement that the room seemed to churn like multicoloured water, swaying as one. It struck me that most here probably only saw their rulers on very rare occasions, and that this must be such a long-awaited appearance. And I get to mutter some new curse at the Prince every day. Lucky me.
Run! my voice suddenly cried.
My throat was constricting, my skin crawling as all-consuming, vice-like anticipation took over. I had no will left, no strength to stop this irrational desire; this irrational want to set eyes upon them; them, the predators so well suited to destroying my own kind.
Run from the rose!
My breathing came in short, sharp rasps, not enough oxygen reaching my head. My hand tingled and I felt something cold through the gloves. A gentle pressure. I looked down to see Fabian’s white-gloved hand clutching mine, holding onto me as though I might blow away at any second.
‘Keep breathing, it will pass in a moment,’ he said in nothing more than a whisper. I nodded shakily, vision wavering.
Run before it’s too late! Run now!
The music was rising and rising, filling my ears, as it towered to a crescendo, sending my heartbeat spiralling out of control.
Run or face rising to the throne!
The candles completely blew out, a ferocious wind raging through the ballroom, as the great grand doors were flung open. The Varns. The King swept down the stairs in the absolute darkness – darkness that turned to a flickering glow as he clicked his fingers. An astonishing crown sat atop his dark hair, made of some metal that looked to be liquid, lithe to his movements as the dark emerald jewels glinted in their silver settings. Set above those jewels, contained in four points made of glass, was a red, flowing liquid.
Run, or become one with their blood.
My breath caught and I gagged, throat tightening. My vision swayed, the room spinning and settling. I clutched at my chest, my ribs feeling as though they were being crushed, constricting around my heart that wasn’t beating in any sort of pattern.
The rest of the family followed, and I could see the true extent of the vampire royalty. There were thirty of them, maybe more, all dressed in black or emerald, sash about their shoulders, partners clinging to their arms with downturned eyes. Kaspar followed directly behind his father, Charity clasping his arm.
A wave rolled across the crowd, as all bowed and curtsied. I did so too once the King reached our quarter, bowing my head low, hand still encased in Fabian’s. But my legs began to give way when I went to stand and something sinister, something that was not my own mind erupted inside my head, but booming and thundering.
Throw yourself down, mortal child. You are not worthy. Die before fate catches you. Die, child. Die before it is too late.
My eyelids drooped, my knees gave away, and I was falling to the ground, ready to give in.
Run from his sin!
My eyelids snapped open and I was being pulled up, a comforting hand in mine, a pair of blue eyes staring worriedly down at me.
‘Violet?’
I grabbed at my chest with my free hand, clawing away, desperate to release this darkness clutching me, to be free from its strangling hold. Kaspar passed by and his eyes snapped to meet mine. Unease momentarily crossed his face, before his head faced forwards once more. My head thumped. The family reached the dais, filing out into a line facing their subjects. The King carried on to his throne, veering around to face us all.
A clock deep within the halls of the mansion struck midnight. Twelve reverberating booms, each making my blood run to ice.
Time will not be infinite forever, Violet Lee. It’s running out.
Run!
TWENTY-ONE
Violet
The King’s gaze locked onto mine and a flicker of doubt creased his face, before he returned to his pensive glare, staring down at his subjects as though they were pawns to be moved on a chessboard. When satisfied, he sat down upon his throne, lazily waving his hand at the waiters, who disappeared to the sidelines.
‘Violet! Breathe!’
Stricken, I realized there was no oxygen in my lungs. Panic rose and my chest burnt, pleading for oxygen.
‘I can’t,’ I croaked.
‘You can,’ Fabian insisted, gripping my shoulders. ‘Just concentrate.’
I screwed my eyes shut, focusing on the rise and fall of my ribs. After a minute, the vice around my neck lifted and I took a shuddering breath. The darkness disappeared, coherent thought returning. My vision returned, the room taking on normal shades, untainted by my tunnelling vision. I stayed there, gasping for breath for a minute or so, before I recovered.
‘What the hell just happened?’ I gasped.
‘Don’t worry about it. It was nothing,’ he murmured back, avoiding meeting my eyes.
‘Bullshit!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he hissed.
Bitterly, I lowered my voice. ‘Just tell me, Fabian! I have a right to know! And you quite clearly knew this was going to happen, so why did you invite me?’ I hissed back in an undertone, leaning in closer to him.
He sighed. ‘I invited you because I wanted your company and I wanted you to enjoy yourself. I didn’t tell you about this because I thought it might scare you off.’
‘And “this” is what?’ My tone was not as demanding this time. He wanted me to enjoy myself.
‘The King’s crown.’ He jerked his thumb towards the throne. ‘It contains cursed blood. If a human sees it, they are affected as you were. It was used back in the days when there were human sacrifices. Which is all just symbolic now,’ he added, seeing my face, which must have frozen at the thought of ‘human sacrifices’.
The voices and the dark might have subsided, but their message had not. That crown made me want to die. ‘Will it affect me again tonight?’
‘No. It only works once.’
By now, the crowd had parted to form a large circle, walled with people. The crown was gone, the King was striding towards the centre of the circle and the enchantment of the ball was fast returning as the candles burnt brighter.
The violins struck up once more, and in the time it takes to blink, the Varns, in all their crowning glory, were stood there, poised to dance. They bowed low, before taking hold.
The Varns began dancing; gliding around the floor as though they belonged to the music, their steps flawless, perfected by thousands of years of practice. I watched in awe as Kaspar and Charity became one, her surprisingly elegant dress flowing around his ankles as she swirled around, melting into his form. The only clue in the mauve material to her true nature was the long slit running up the side, stopping mid-thigh.
A smile almost cracked on my lips as Kaspar glided past us, looking bored. He had donned regal wear, the tight black military-style jacket fastened with an ornate silver belt. A few medals hung from his breast pocket, underneath an emerald handkerchief tucked inside it. Around him, he wore an emerald sash, much like Lyla’s; it was emblazoned with the Royal Crest, proving his purity of blood.
The music rose to a crescendo and I gasped; as one, the Varns wheeled around, completely changing direction. The choir sang, the whole room echoing with their hallowing notes. The candles flickered, again, softly lighting the dancing figures. Any fear or terror had long gone now, forgotten as the majestic scene took over.
A huge grin spread across my face. This is what every girl dreamt of, but would never live.
‘It’s time.’ The music lulled and Fabian matched my grin. I placed my hand on his arm and he escorted me out onto the dance floor. We weaved our way about other couples, as hundreds, if not thousands, of vampires assembled themselves, dodging the now still figures of the Varns. We somehow made it to the centre of the floor, and I looked about to see many familiar faces – Cain poised perfectly still with his young partner, Alex and an unfamiliar girl, Eaglen stood by an ageing lady.
‘Curtsey,’ Fabian mouthed at me and the room dipped as one.
We took hold, the music lulled and then rose …
And we were dancing, whirling, spinning, around the room, interlaced with the other couples, ball gowns whipping around, music rising. I closed my eyes, trying to remember every detail, the scene imprinted on my dark eyelids. My smile faltered, remembering something the King had said many weeks before.
‘Your sentiments will change when you have grown accustomed to our ways, which will happen in time. And time you shall have, Miss Lee …’
I slowly opened my eyes to see Fabian gazing down at me, a curious lopsided smile playing on his lips. His eyes were the clearest of blues, so clear it put the sky to shame, the deep blue waves of the sea becoming weary as they admitted defeat compared with such a perfect colour.
How cheesy, my voice muttered in a dry tone.
‘What are you thinking about?’
‘I’m thinking about how amazing this is,’ I lied. ‘This whole ball. It’s just incredible. All these people … I feel like Cinderella.’ I laughed, unsure of what else to say. To my relief, he chuckled.
‘This is nothing. You should see some of the balls later on in the year,’ he cooed.
We stopped whirling and the music changed to something more dulcet and melancholy. Within seconds, we were dancing once more, slower this time, and I was forced to concentrate on my steps for a few minutes.
My eyes began to wander, watching the spectacle around me. Lyla glided past, her partner, an extremely attractive teenage-looking vampire, quite clearly staring down at Lyla’s chest. He seemed to like what he saw. I flushed red when I caught her eye. I liked Fabian – as far as vampires went he was one of the nicer ones – but she liked him in a much different way. And Lyla had been nice to me during my time here – I didn’t want to mess that up.
The King danced in the centre with an extravagantly beautiful vampire. Her long, light brown hair fell down to her waist, pin straight. Her angular jaw was set in a controlled line, aloof to everything around her, including the King. He too shared that same indifference, hardly glancing at the woman in his arms.
My eyes continued to roam. They settled on Sky and Arabella, who wheeled past us at that moment. They stared deep into each other’s eyes, as though they were the only two people in the room. I averted my gaze, uncomfortable. I felt as though I should not intrude on their moment. A tiny pang shot through me.