Abigail Gibbs

The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire


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through his hair. The others stood up too and the two vampires I didn’t know made a hasty departure from the room.

      ‘Arabella, how, err … nice to see you,’ Kaspar stuttered, still running a hand through his hair. I turned around. Stood beside the door was a very cross-looking Arabella, hands on hips, flashing us the most livid expression possible. Noticing that my top had slipped down over my bra a little, I pulled it up, averting my gaze as a scowl came my way.

      ‘Yeah … about this … we can explain,’ Fabian faltered.

      ‘It was all Violet’s fault,’ Kaspar blurted, pointing in my direction.

      ***

      ‘Stupid, stupid, arrogant vampires,’ I muttered darkly under my breath as I swept tiny shards of glass into the dustpan and brush I was using. I crawled across the floor, picking up every last piece of bottle known to man. Kaspar was doing the same over the other side, a frown creasing his normally faultless brow as he too cursed under his breath. My only consolation was that I knew the spoilt brats were being made to clean instead of the servants, though Fabian had slipped away after chucking a few empty bottles into a black bin liner. Nobody had questioned his disappearance, or even seemed to notice it.

      ‘That should do it,’ Lyla announced, as she placed her weight on the broomstick she was using. ‘Father won’t notice the odd little patch.’

      ‘You missed a spot,’ a low voice rasped. I stood up, just in time to see the King flitting into the room, a black travelling cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He stopped, facing us all, anger twisting his face. Fabian appeared behind him.

      If colour could tint the King’s pale skin, then he would most definitely be purple. He opened his mouth and pure venom seemed to pour out.

      ‘I leave you for one night. Just one night. As responsible adults, that should not be a problem. Yet I return to find that yet again, you have engaged in behaviour not fitting to your status, humiliated me, and made a complete mess.’

      ‘We tidied up!’ Kaspar protested, glaring at Fabian who wore a smug smile.

      The King silenced him with a raise of his hand. ‘Enough. You have some explaining to do.’

      Kaspar gawped. ‘Me?’

      ‘Yes, you. Violet too. My study, now.’

      ***

      I trailed behind the King, throwing filthy looks at Kaspar. His face was blank, apart from the occasional grimace and I was sure he and his father were having an angered conversation in their heads. I could even detect some fear in his manner, all usual signs of arrogance gone. His fear only added to mine. I knew the King was not one to cross.

      My bare feet slapped on the stone flag floor, as we weaved our way through unrecognizable corridors. Torches were hung high in brackets, their burning fuel the only source of heat in this part of the mansion that I never wished to visit again.

      After a few minutes, the air began to warm a little and more light flooded in. We passed through a wooden door back into the main corridor, heading towards the double set of doors halfway down, which were opened by a manservant. The King made an abrupt turn and entered. We hurried after him and, in an instant, he was stood behind a great desk, a floor-to-ceiling window framing his figure as a silhouette against the bright light, which bounced off shelf after shelf of books.

      Here, it was clear he was King – the one creature who wielded such awesome force over a species far superior to our own, who exercised such restraint; such compassion upon every other being ever known to live. He could end us, if he wanted; a wave of his hand and humanity would be mincemeat. Yet here he was, about to lecture his ‘teenage’ son, along with me.

      ‘Sit,’ he ordered. I followed Kaspar forward to where three wooden chairs were placed in front of the desk. As I sat down, the legs scraped against the floor.

      The King closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to calm himself. ‘I am told by Kaspar, Miss Lee, that it is your eighteenth birthday today.’

      I nodded. And what a great one it is turning out to be.

      ‘Then many happy returns.’

      I hesitated. ‘Thanks.’

      ‘But what you two did last night was unacceptable and dangerous for you, Miss Lee. I am not angry at you for it, as my son has already confessed to supplying you with drink with corrupt motive. Under the influence of alcohol, your actions are forgivable. But let me stress this to you: do not do it again, for I may not be so merciful on another day.’

      I nodded, surprised at his calm demeanour. But he didn’t need to worry – I would definitely not do that again. But something else bothered me. Kaspar owned up.

      ‘As for you, Kaspar, I tell you time and time again that your behaviour is unacceptable; that you jeopardize the Kingdom with your womanizing ways. But you never seem to listen. I understand that you are of the age when you feel the need to... experiment... find your own legs, as one might say, and that is quite alright, but only behind closed doors and not under any circumstances with Miss Lee.’

      I blushed bright tomato red. Kaspar didn’t react.

      The King went to sit down, but changed his mind. Instead, he leaned on the desk, and sighed. ‘Sometimes, I wonder Kaspar, if you would have been different if your mother were still alive.’

      Immediately, I went rigid. I had never heard the King mention the Queen before. I glanced at Kaspar. He sat deathly still beside me, his eyes a stormy grey.

      ‘Perhaps she would have been able to talk sense into you, as I cannot. Or perhaps you would not have to despise this power you possess … perhaps you would not be heir,’ he seemed to mutter to himself. He turned away and walked towards the window, his head hung low. As he turned, I caught sight of his eyes and suppressed a gasp. There was no colour in them. They were an empty white. It was repulsive to look at, but too compelling not to look. I glanced at Kaspar. Still, he did not move.

      The King turned back to the window and I shifted uncomfortably, feeling as though I was an intruder on a conversation I was not meant to hear.

      ‘You are not to do anything of this kind again to Miss Lee, do you understand, Kaspar?’ the King demanded rather than asked, his harsh, authoritative voice returning.

      ‘And if I do?’ Kaspar challenged.

      ‘When one plays with fire, one gets burned.’

      I frowned, looking from one man to the other. I’m not a fire of any kind and I can’t ‘burn’ them, so what does he mean? But Kaspar seemed to understand and he got up, storming towards the door when the King spoke again.

      ‘You may go.’

      I shot up and scrambled after Kaspar, passing him in the doorway as he hung back.

      ‘Why do you have to lecture all the time? Mother never did,’ he spat at his father in a bitter tone, sweeping passed me without a second glance. I hurried after him. He was already halfway down the corridor when I called after him.

      ‘Kaspar, wait up!’ He stopped, turning slowly. I jogged to catch up and looked up at his eyes. Their usual emerald green was tainted with grey and each watched me coldly. ‘What did your father mean about the fire?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Yes, you do know. Why else would you leave like that?’

      He closed his eyes and forced a breath through his gritted teeth. ‘Look, Girly. Maybe I do know. But either way, I’m not going to tell you.’ He marched away but I caught up with him again and touched his arm.

      ‘What?’

      I paused, uncertain. ‘You owned up.’

      ‘Yes, I did,’ he grunted, pushing my hand away and turning on his heel.

      ‘But why?’ I questioned, talking to the back of his