The slayer chuckled. ‘Why should I? I do not buy into fate, and besides, what does this have to do with Lee?’
The rogue stood up. ‘Everything, because the Varns don’t know yet.’ He turned away, scraping at the bark with a long, withered fingernail. The vampires around him shifted uncomfortably, rising too, almost as though ready to flee.
‘Know what?’
‘I thought it wasn’t worth your time, slayer?’
The slayer’s face was contorted with curiosity and he half-rose from his log. ‘Spit it out, vampire, or I’ll ensure my stake meets your chest!’
The rogue chuckled darkly, gouging out a large chunk of bark and tossing it to the floor.
‘They’ve found the Sagean girl of the first verse. The Prophecy is true.’
The vampires began to move away, already swallowed by the darkness, save for their leader.
‘What?’
The rogue stopped, turning slowly, his lifeless skin illuminated by the half-moon.
‘They have found the first Dark Heroine. But after all, you don’t believe it, so don’t trouble yourself. We’ll let Lee know before Ad Infinitum is over.’ He smiled, like the thought amused him, and then turned and ran.
There was total silence in the trees for a full minute, as everything became frozen. Even the birds in their nests did not squawk at such a statement.
So it’s true. Athenea had been right all along.
The cloaked figure leapt from the tree, dropping to the ground as a black blur. He had to get to Varnley. But first, he would feed.
The slayer did not have time to turn or draw his stake before the vampire dove on his back, pulling him to the ground. Fangs sank deep into the flesh of his neck and his expression twisted into one of agony, before it pacified.
Blood seeped from his lips and onto the ground as he tossed the body aside and ran.
The cloaked figure knew if he was swift he might reach the border before the sun rose, perhaps even a little before.
The King has to know. The Prophecy of the Heroines is true. The second verse rang in his mind, carved into every being save for the humans of this dimension. The first had been found. The vampires were next.
FORTY-SEVEN
Violet
Tonight was Ad Infinitum. Tonight, I was the sacrifice.
I wrapped my arms tight around myself. It would not be long now. John stood beside me, hands clasped behind his back as we both leaned against the wall, just waiting. The doors to the entrance hall were thrown wide open, the butlers stood silently beside several footmen dressed in their smartest black and silver uniforms, complete with powdered wigs.
My legs were bare, as were my arms and shoulders. The tattered, fraying white dress hardly provided warmth – it was made from layers of a scratchy, rough material and coarse lace, held up only by thin straps. It fell to just above my knees, with my feet encased in flimsy white ribbon and petite little ballet-like shoes, which made my enormous feet seem to shrink.
My hair fell about my shoulders, left to dry naturally, just as instructed on the card left in my room that morning. It fell in waves, frizzy and unkempt and beginning to form ringlets. I wore no jewellery, no perfume and no make-up.
‘I hate waiting,’ John said. It was a simple enough statement, but it cut through the air like a knife.
‘I hate this.’ I barely muttered the words, but he heard.
‘So do I, and I don’t get bitten like you.’ This man, almost twenty years my senior, was clearly afraid of the family I would wager his love had taught him to fear. Already his loose linen shirt was sticky with sweat and his face was flushed. He wiped his brow, leaning against the marble wall. ‘At least I have a reason for being here. You—’
‘Are being punished? Yeah, I know.’ Again I chuckled awkwardly. ‘But it means I have a chance to see those who still don’t think I’m scum.’ I shrugged my shoulders, eyes focused on the door that would soon open.
‘I’m sorry.’
That I did not expect. I stood up straighter. ‘For what?’
He did not answer straight away as footsteps, echoing, were heard from the corridor that led deeper into the mansion. They faded again.
‘For them treating you like this.’
My fists clenched. ‘I’m used to it.’
‘You shouldn’t have to be.’
I had no answer to that, especially as the doors to the ballroom began to open, sending a surge of nerves through the pit of my stomach. I blinked a few times – the light of a thousand flickering candles lit the massive room – some burning blue, others orange. Black drapes framed the cathedral-like windows, the view through each pane of glass just as dark. The white marble of the walls, flecked with gold was cast in shadow, the tall pillars seeming to stretch into forever above the thousands of vampires – and it was thousands, all still. Perfectly, eerily still. Some were frozen in dance, some with drinks in hand, some poised to descend the stairs of the balcony that we would soon walk.
They all wore the colours and livery of their families, dark colours, mostly; immaculate make-up and smoked eyes, feathers, beads and withering lilies entwined in the hair of the women, swords hung at the hips of the men.
Waiters, frozen too, balanced trays carrying flutes of a red liquid that could only be blood, some tiny squares of raw, fleshy meat. Like the butlers, they also wore powdered wigs, stark against the gloom of the room.
But more stunning were the flowers tumbling in chains from the ceiling – roses, black roses with white leaves, strung together and hung from the beams far above the frozen spectacle below. They grew down the pillars and the far walls, some even wrapped around the King’s black throne. Rows of them decorated the tables upon which punch bowls and wine bottles sat, petals strewn between the platters of food. Some were draped from the chandelier and a few had been tied to the stands of the orchestra, so large it occupied most of the far end of the room. They were the only occupants of the room not immobile, the music still flowing from their instruments. A woman clad in red, beautiful beyond comprehension stood at their head, also still.
‘Violet,’ John said, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of us. ‘Only become a vampire for the right reasons. Don’t be swayed.’
The music swelled and drowned whatever else he had to say out, and I refused to answer a statement that felt so oddly honest.
I walked forward, focusing on each and every step, trying not to shake, not wanting the fear and pressure to show. My hands felt the air in front of me, grabbing, clinging and clenching the banister of the small balcony that overlooked the ballroom, my eyes surveying the occupants with what should have been faked fear.