Darren Shan - Volumes 5 and 6 - Blood Beast/Demon Apocalypse

The phone rings. Loch. It’s as if he’s sensed my wavering mood and is intervening to sway me back into party mode. “Has Dervish gone?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Good. I didn’t want to discuss it at school – too many ears – but what about booze? Yay or nay?”

“That might be a bit much,” I mutter. “Things will probably be wild enough if everyone’s sober.”

“Yeah, it’ll be wilder if everyone’s drunk,” Loch laughs, “but a lot more fun! I was thinking about all those bottles of wine in the cellar…”

“No way,” I snap. “Most are expensive. Very expensive. Nobody goes near the wine. That’s a golden rule. If anyone breaks it, I’ll kick you all out.”

“Spoilsport,” Loch grumbles. “Well, what about beer? I could ask one of my older cousins to get us a crate or two.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re not wimping out, are you?” he asks suspiciously.

“Well…” I start.

“Good,” Loch says quickly. “Let’s forget about the booze then. If anybody brings some, great. If not, we’ll just muddle by sober. Fair enough?”

“Yeah,” I say unhappily. “I guess.”

“Great. See you in the morning. Oh, and I’ll be bringing Reni, to help carry the bags. Is that OK?”

“Sure,” I say, spirits lifting, instantly forgetting about my reservations. “That’ll be… fine. Yeah. Whatever.”

A short laugh, then Loch hangs up, leaving me to get on with the planning of the party.

→Loch, Reni and I make three runs to the village. Frank and Leon join us on the last run, when we realise we need more hands. It’s brilliant spending so much time with Reni, walking beside her in and out of Carcery Vale, discussing the party, bands, politics… whatever she feels like talking about.

Loch offers to chip in with some money for the drinks and food, but I tell him it’s OK. Dervish is rich – there’s a family fortune knocking about which will one day be mine and Bill-E’s – and he never begrudges me anything. He left a wad of cash for me in his study and told me to make good use of it.

Reni does a lot of the organising. I spent a couple of hours last night drawing up a list of everything we might need and was more than a little pleased with myself. She took one look at the list this morning, laughed and tore it up. “Is Jesus coming?” she asked.

“Uh… no,” I replied, astonished.

“Then forget about the loaves and fishes miracle. What you had on that list wouldn’t have got us through to nine o’clock. Now, fetch me a fresh pad and pen—this needs a woman’s considered touch.”

Much as I hate to admit it, she was right. Carrying the supplies back from Carcery Vale, it feels like we’ve bought far too much—we could feed the starving millions with this lot. But by the time we’ve divided it out into plates and bowls, and distributed them around the three main party rooms – two big living rooms and the kitchen – there doesn’t look to be a whole load.

“Maybe we need to make another run,” Frank muses, opening a bag of crisps.

“Maybe you need to stop snacking before anyone arrives,” Reni retorts, grabbing the bag from him. “No,” she says, casting a professional eye around. “This will do. Any more would be a waste.” She checks her watch. “I’m going home to get ready. And you boys…” She wrinkles her nose and pulls a face. “Ever heard of showers?”

She leaves. I look around at Loch, Frank and Leon. They stare back. Then we all raise an arm and sniff.

→The party’s not set to start until seven, but the first guests begin arriving soon after six. I’m nervous and twitchy, worrying about where their coats should go, if there’s enough food and drink, if anyone’s smuggled in anything they shouldn’t have. But as more arrive and the laughter and buzz of voices increase, I begin to relax as I realise people are having fun.

Not everyone who comes was on the invitation list, but there’s nothing I can do about that. If I turned them away, I’d sour the atmosphere. A few blow-ins have to expected at any party.

Loch and Frank help (Leon can’t make it until nine), opening the front doors and greeting newcomers while I’m showing others around the mansion. It’s cool to be a guide to so many fascinated guests. I love leading them through the corridors, pointing out weapons on the walls, explaining the house’s bloody history, showing them the hall of portraits and the faces of the dead.

“How come there are so many young people?” Mary asks, studying the paintings and photos.

“We’re an adventuresome lot,” I lie. “We don’t sit around quietly, waiting to grow old. We embrace life and danger, and as a result a lot of us die young.”

“They leave good looking corpses though,” Reni says and giggles sweetly when I blush.

→Bill-E arrives at a quarter to eight. I’m coming down the stairs when he enters, admitted by Loch.

“Hey, Bill-E, great to see you, glad you could come,” Loch enthuses, offering his hand, which Bill-E predictably – and, I must admit, amusingly – tries to shake. “Sucker!”

But even Loch’s teasing can’t spoil the mood. Bill-E breezes past him, feathers only mildly ruffled, and makes for the nearest pile of food. Ten minutes of solid munching later, he’s by my side, marching after me as I lead the latest group on a tour. By midway he’s taken over—he knows much more about the house and its legends than I do and is better at telling the stories. I don’t mind. It’s nice to see him come out of his shell. I wish he was like this all the time.

→As the night lengthens I start to feel strange. Nauseous, dizzy, the rooms and people around me appearing oddly out of focus. My breath is heavy in my ears and my stomach and chest ache if I move quickly. It’s not alcohol – nobody brought booze – but maybe somebody spiked the soft drinks with a spoon of nasty powder or a pill.

“Are you OK?” Reni asks, spotting me staggering towards the kitchen.

“A bit… weird…” I gasp, having to sit on the floor a couple of metres shy of the kitchen door.

Reni squats beside me. “You don’t look good,” she says and feels my forehead. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?” I shake my head. “Drugs?” Her voice is hard.

“Not… that I know… about,” I wheeze. “I was going… to the kitchen… to check. Think somebody… might have spiked… the drinks.”

“They’d better bloody not,” Reni growls, surging to her feet. “I’ll have them arrested if they have! You wait here.” She storms off to investigate. Five or ten minutes later – hard to keep track of time, my head’s throbbing so much – she returns, calmer. “Everyone else is fine. I don’t think the drinks have been tampered with.”

“Maybe I’m just sick,” I mutter.

“That’s what it looks like,” she says, then grabs my arms and hauls me to my feet. “Let’s get you outside. Fresh air will do you a world of good.”

She steers me through the kitchen and out the back door, then props me against the wall and stands watch beside me as I take deep breaths and try to focus. After a few minutes my head clears a little and my stomach settles.

“Better?” Reni asks, tilting my chin up, examining my eyes.

“Good as new,” I smile.

Reni leans towards me, a serious look in her eyes. I tense. Will this be our first kiss? I hope I don’t mess up. How do they do it in the movies—tongue or just lips? But at the last moment her expression crinkles and she kisses me quickly on the nose instead of the mouth.

“Come on, Romeo,” she laughs, taking my hands. “It’s too cold out here for monkey business.”