Abigail Gibbs - The Dark Heroine - Dinner with a Vampire

I drew back, scared of this side of Fabian I knew of, but had never seen. He looked down at me, his blond hair falling over his livid eyes. Immediately, his expression softened, and his eyes returned to their airy blue.

‘I’m sorry, Violet. You don’t want to know this,’ he murmured softly. He pulled me back to him and I sank onto the arm of the chair, letting the onslaught of information sink in, fitting its way around what I already knew. It made so much sense.

‘You need to go to bed,’ Fabian’s musical voice chimed in my ear. I nodded, my eyes dropping.

I felt him begin to lift me and, in seconds, I was being lowered onto soft sheets. My eyes were just about open when I saw him sweep down. For a moment, panic swept through me, but it faded as his lips, as cold as they would be on a winter’s day, brushed my cheek.

‘Sweet dreams, Violet.’

I heard a click and the lamps went out. Lazy thoughts drifted in and out of my mind, forming the beginnings of dreams.

My father had entered government just three years ago. He didn’t like vampires. My eyes flew open, and I sat bolt upright in bed.

He couldn’t have, could he?

It’s a coincidence, I told myself firmly. A coincidence. Anyone could have ordered her death. Desperate, I placed all thought of it into a box in my mind, locked it and chucked away the key. I would not think about it again.

I must have sat up all night, because before I knew it, the sun was seeping through the delicate voiles covering my window. My eyes blinked furiously, not used to the glaring light creeping its way across the room. I slipped the ruffled covers off myself and slid out of the bed, realizing I was still wearing my clothes from last night. I shuddered, disgusted. My top stuck to my stomach and beads of sweat ran down my back.

I walked towards the window, hoping that it might have unlocked itself. It hadn’t. I smacked the glass in frustration and my stomach knotted up, although that might be something to do with the stomach-ache that was beginning in my gut. I slid down the wall, as homesickness overtook me. Thoughts of my family rushed through my mind: my friends; my room; my home. As every image flashed through my mind, more and more sobs escaped my throat. I just wanted to go home. That isn’t too much to ask, is it?

Sighing, I felt the heartfelt longing ebb away. I hauled myself up and with some reluctance, headed for the shower.

When I got out some time later, I tripped over the rim and by the time I had got dressed, half the bottles on the sink had ended up on the floor too.

Butter fingers, I thought. I snatched them off the floor and placed them back upright. As I stood up, I had to grip the sink for balance as stars appeared in front of my eyes and my temples began to thump. When it had faded, I walked back into my bedroom and dropped onto my front, crawling under the bed to cross off another day on my makeshift calendar. I grabbed a pencil off the floor, and made a small mark on the wall. 16th August . That date rang a bell for some reason. I screwed my forehead up, trying to remember the significance.

Dropping things? Dizziness? Stomach cramps? Messed-up emotions? Panicking, I started counting twenty-eight days back. ‘Crap,’ I breathed.

***

Lyla was away. It was a Sunday, so the maids had the day off. That left Fabian. Great.

I searched most of the mansion – at least the parts I knew about – until I found him swimming lengths in the indoor pool. He broke the surface and seeing me standing there, he smiled, hoisting himself out. My mouth formed a large ‘O’. He was wearing nothing but swim shorts and his stomach was toned. Very toned. Droplets of water ran down his body, gliding over his smooth skin. His almost-white hair was plastered to his face, falling over his eyes and he jerked his head to the side, flicking it away. Oh man. It was like a cologne advert, right in front of my eyes.

‘Morning,’ he said in his usual cheery tone, not even a hint of colour in his cheeks, despite the fact he had just been swimming. He grabbed a towel off a chair nearby and flung it around his shoulders. Before I knew what was happening, he had dropped his shorts, and was pulling a pair of boxers on. I spun around, facing the opposite wall, moving so fast I almost slipped on the wet floor. I screwed up my eyes and felt my cheeks go red hot.

‘A little warning next time!’ I squeaked, mortified.

He chuckled. ‘You don’t strike me as the type of girl who hasn’t seen it all before. So, come on, how old were you?’ My eyes widened, but there wasn’t any point denying it. He was right. I heard the closing of a zip. ‘You can look.’

‘Fifteen,’ I muttered as I turned back around.

He arched an eyebrow. ‘Honestly, back in my day and you would have never seen the light of day.’

I shrugged. ‘But it’s not back in your day. Besides, I have a question.’ He gestured for me to carry on. ‘If I was bleeding, would you be able to resist it?’

He picked a towel up from the ledge that ran around the wall and rubbed it over his hair, drying it. ‘Well, that depends on how hungry I am. I mean generally, I like to think I could exercise enough control. Why?’

‘W-well,’ I stuttered. ‘It’s kind of embarrassing.’

‘Can’t be that bad.’

I grimaced. ‘Well, I might be, you know, on .’

He shook his head, throwing the towel aside. ‘On?’

‘What I mean is, it’s that time of the month when I might be starting, my, you know...’ I made odd gestures with my hands, as though that would explain it. He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, trying to understand. He shook his head slightly, still not getting it. I grimaced. ‘Period,’ I muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes widened in alarm and became pink, like he was flushing. ‘So, what am I going to do about it?’ I asked, snapping him back from his mortified state.

‘Erm, yeah. Have you, you know, started yet?’

I shook my head. ‘No. But I might today,’ I explained in a hurry.

He nodded. ‘Well, I think Lyla might have some stuff for that.’ His tone made it sound as though it was some disease and he rushed from the room like it was the plague. He came back five minutes later, his arms full of sanitary towels and tampons. ‘Never say a word of this to anyone. I’ve already had a weird look from the butler and Kaspar would never let me live it down.’

‘Trust me, I won’t,’ I promised, piling the tampons into my arms. ‘I’m surprised you know what a period is, actually.’

‘Vampires get them too. Well, obviously only the girls,’ he added, his eyes becoming pink again. ‘But only every few years. They have a longer cycle than humans, which means they are more fertile and can we stop talking about this? It’s grossing me out. And you better go and do whatever you need to do.’ Again he motioned with his hands, implying his meaning. I took the hint and left, hoping I wouldn’t smell like a walking lunch.

So much time passed here unnoticed, as if the sands of time seemed to take pleasure in dropping when my back was turned. Before I knew it, the sun had set over the Varns’estate, Varnley, and the moon would be rising, if it were not covered by menacing storm clouds that rolled in over the forest-covered hills. It had started raining earlier, just as it had on my first night here. I gave the weather merit – the rain persisted right through the afternoon and well into the evening and still fell as night drew in.

Just as I changed for bed, the first flashes of lightning illuminated my dark room. Great shadows were cast on the walls, and I watched, almost in awe, as forks were sent rocketing to the ground. Seconds later, great clasps of thunder echoed over the valley. The voiles covering the French doors swayed a little, as the fierce winds found there way through minute cracks in the frame. I slipped into bed, forcing the childhood fear of a storm aside and pulled the sheets tightly around myself, banishing the cold. I screwed my eyes shut and waited until I fell into an uneasy sleep.