Descending the stairs I saw the same group that had been in London that first night, with the addition of Lyla and another girl, her mousy-brown hair tied up into a bun. Beside the tall, slender Lyla, she looked short and stocky, although I was pretty sure the Princess would be jealous of the killer cle**age the other girl had.
Fabian handed me a familiar black coat. I reached out, hand a little shaky as the rough velvet instantly brought back a thousand memories, the most recent being that of a certain night out in London.
I shrugged it around my shoulders, glad of the sudden warmth. My thin cardigan wouldn’t have protected me much against the harsh breeze. There was a flurry of movement, as everyone unfroze and began grabbing various things from the living room, returning with car keys, purses and wallets, credit cards and handbags.
Kaspar walked right up to me, tucking a wallet into his back pocket. ‘I’m warning you, Girly, I’m not leaving your side all day. So no funny business, okay?’
I nodded, rolling my eyes. I’ve already had this discussion with my voice. He flitted around me and poked me in the back, forcing me forwards but I froze. The blood drained from my face and I took a step back.
Walking out of the corridor was someone draped in a black cloak, the hood thrown up, shielding the face from view.
Kaspar had frozen behind me too, finger pressed gently into my back. Every head in the room turned to him, and then me. At that very moment the King emerged from the depths of the corridor too, looking tense and uneasy.
Everything, including the cloaked man, seemed to become immobilized. He was tall, upright and with his appearance, the temperature in the room dropped. Kaspar grabbed me by the waist, pulling me into him and steering us towards the door, his face screwed up in concentration. I protested a little, but not much, torn between fear and wanting to know who this mysterious informant was.
His back was to us but at that moment his head tilted before he whipped around at a speed that should be impossible. His hood cast everything into shadow but his eyes, which were a dark indigo blue, fast becoming a flaming red.
‘Get her out of here!’ the King roared as the butlers stepped forward, placing themselves between us and the snarling figure in front. Kaspar didn’t need telling twice. His arm clamped down tighter on my waist and his other hand grabbed my wrist, tugging me out of the doors. I caught a glimpse of Fabian dropping to a crouch behind us.
‘Do not return before midnight, Kaspar,’ the King shouted over the confusion, voices and the sound of crunching gravel beneath our feet filling my ears as my breath caught, focusing in on materialising figures at the far end of the grounds. They were too far away to make out and before they could near, Kaspar had yanked me around the side of the mansion to the tucked-away garages. His hand fastened to me, I could see it starting to redden under the sun.
I went to turn around but Kaspar tugged me back around.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, trying to glance over my shoulder as he let go of my wrist and placed a hand under my chin so I had no choice but to look at him. ‘Kaspar, tell me!’
He grimaced. ‘Girly, you’ve got to trust me, but whatever happens, don’t look around, okay? Just keep on looking straight at the garages.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t argue, just do it. Promise. Please.’
There was such sudden desperation in his voice that I couldn’t refuse this soft side of him that rarely appeared. I nodded. ‘I promise.’
‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll explain what I can when we are out of here.’ His eyes were darting behind me, watching something just to the right of us. ‘C’mon.’ He grabbed my hand and set off once more at a sprint. As we neared the garages, the doors opened, revealing hordes of expensive cars. We skidded to a halt, Kaspar pulling out a set of car keys from his pocket.
The others appeared behind and there was a frantic scramble as they decided who would go with who, and in which car.
‘Who am I with?’ I asked.
‘You’re with me of course. Aston. Now.’ He was half-smirking and I felt my face drop a little.
Suddenly, all smugness disappeared from his face and the sound of footsteps reached my ears. ‘Don’t turn around,’ he muttered, his eyes fixed on something behind me.
Fabian took a few cautious steps forward. ‘What are you doing here, Fallon?’
‘Prince Fallon of Athenea to you. And I’m curious.’ I was surprised to hear an American – or maybe Canadian – accent; even more surprised to hear his title and fought hard with the urge to turn. ‘So this is the young lady all the fuss is about?’ I heard him taking a step forward and I mirrored his action.
‘Young lady has a name.’
‘I know you do, Miss Violet Lee.’ The crunch of gravel told me he had taken another step forward and I saw Kaspar tense. The others were completely still, watching on with concern.
‘Leave her alone, Fallon.’
He was so close I could feel his lukewarm breath on the back of my neck as he sighed. Yet, up and above that was an overwhelming sense of warmth that did not come from any breath. It was like the sun was beating down on my back, but that wasn’t possible – it was October and freezing. Whoever this royal was, he wasn’t a vampire.
Even I was surprised at how easily I could accept that. But then again, if vampires could exist, why couldn’t other creatures?
‘How long are you to protect her, Kaspar?’
‘As long as the inter-dimensional council rules that we should. Which, I will remind you, your father heads.’
‘I’m not my father. She will have to learn about our existence at some point if she turns, which is what so many people want.’
I sucked in a breath and gathered the courage to speak. ‘I don’t care if people want me to turn. It’s my choice.’
I felt a pressure on my shoulder, a hand, although I did not look. I could not look.
‘I wish I could say I agree with you.’
I felt the hand, surprisingly hot, brushing away the dark strands of hair from my neck. He pressed a finger into the tiny pinprick wounds that had never completely faded after I had consented to Kaspar taking my blood all those weeks ago. There was a quiet intake of ragged breath, so hushed only Kaspar and I would hear.
‘Time is running out, Kaspar.’ With that he withdrew his hand from my neck and I heard the crunching of gravel as he walked away. I loosened, but Kaspar remained rigid.
‘Time is running out for what?’ he yelled after the other man.