They were all as still as statues, immaculate and elegantly poised. But their torsos were tense, their arms stiff, like a hunter ready to pounce. My eyes darted about the room, looking for a characteristic pierce of emerald eye, or a smirk, my heart frozen as the couples were, but preparing itself to leap.
Not there. Something in my head told my heart to prepare itself for disappointment, and it sunk.
Suddenly, the couple below us began to move, whirling in an elegant waltz, never breaking hold. They circled the couple nearest them who in turn began to move, who circled the next, the hem of her dress brushing the foot of the staircase I would soon descend. Again and again the couples circled, around and around, more and more unfreezing. I watched, stunned, as the room awakened in a great wave, gathering momentum and moving away from us, continually whirling and spinning. It was like a machine coming alive, the cogs turning, faster and faster in time to the music. It did not stop, spreading further and further, sprawling outwards in all directions.
Distracted, I saw colour in the corner of my eye and turned towards the orchestra. The woman, tall, elegant, curvaceous – perfect – stepped forward, her red dress bright and vibrant compared to the rest of the room. As she moved, so did the rest of the room; those not dancing who had remained still shifted in one fluid movement, forming an oval, large; inescapable.
Only those at the very far end of the room near the throne remained in their places. But the wave was rushing closer, the dance gradually becoming more elegant, more complicated, more embellished.
I felt a single bead of sweat roll down my neck as I stared at the vampires there. They all wore black with emerald sashes. The Varns. My hand clutched tighter around the banister. There were fifty, maybe sixty of them, and that just a fraction of all the vampires in attendance. I spotted Lyla amongst the sea of black and emerald, lumbered with the same partner she had complained so bitterly about at the last ball.
A surge of sudden and irrational anger shot through me. If she had snared Fabian, then she should at least be dancing with him. I spotted him too, not far away, dressed in dark blue. I knew that wasn’t how this worked, but it felt so wrong.
Deeper within the throng was the King with the same partner I had seen him with at the Autumnal Equinox. Her expression was as impassive as his. They were still. The rest of his family surrounded them and my eyes desperately searched, looking for him. The room continued to spin and I spotted a flash of yellow hair that looked like it belonged to Charity, and another figure that I could have sworn was Kaspar’s ex, Charlotte. Jag was frozen, a girl that was not Mary in his arms, Sky with Arabella wrapped and held close beside him. Cain was there as well, his partner a girl I thought might be a cousin – he had joked that the ball was a keep-it-in-the-family affair. Even Thyme was in attendance – she was not dancing but waiting at the edge of the ring, her tiny fangs resting against her pink lips, curled into a small smile. But I could not see him.
The music quietened; the room hushed. Heads turned towards us, standing on the little balcony. The candles in the chandelier far above faltered as a breeze, icy and bitter, swept in through the open doors behind us, stirring my dress and tousling John’s hair. I wanted to turn to see where it came from – I knew the main entrance was open but no draft was that cold. I never had the chance.
An arm had latched itself around my middle as the force of a body slammed me into the banister, pinning me to the marble. I felt the air leaving my lungs in a rush and I closed my eyes, winded, taking involuntary gulps of air. The pain clutched at my ribs but I had bigger trouble – a second arm had grabbed my wrist and I felt my feet leaving the floor. Instinctively my eyes burst open again and I lashed out, kicking and clawing only to stop again.
The music was rising and as one, the Varns awoke. En masse, the room glided as a sea of black and green, rising and falling to the unnerving notes, drawn out and only becoming more ferocious. My eyes never left the scene as I was half-dragged, half-carried down the stairs, tripping and falling, perhaps screaming; I would not know above the music. We reached the bottom and as I fell forwards, unable to stop, the same arm caught me. As it snatched me back I caught sight of the sleeve; it was one of the butlers.
John appeared beside me, held by another one of the butlers, struggling and fear, real fear in his eyes. Both of us knew what was coming but nothing could prepare me for the sickening jolt as the nearest couple broke apart, small smiles on both their lips. The man, quite young by vampire standards smiled, mouth widening to reveal two perfectly chiselled incisors that marked him as the hunter; us as the prey.
With his nod, we were thrown to the sea.
The room filled with sound, noise not music, a screeching, blood-curdling shriek filling the room, coming from the mouth of the woman I had thought beautiful. I flew through the air, tossed towards the young vampire who caught me in his arms. I smacked hard into his chest, hair over my eyes and one of the ribbons of my shoes slipping down to my ankles. But I barely had time to gasp before he had flung me backwards over his arm, his open mouth lowering towards my neck. He swept the hair from my shoulders, his breath reeking of blood and wine. My eyelids quivered as I saw a flash of white, John, passing me, enclosed in the arms of the woman. I closed my eyes, feeling his hands roam towards the hem of my dress … The music peaked and I was back upright, the blood draining from my head in one dizzying moment. I felt myself being pushed away, into another’s arms who threw me backwards, this new vampire’s reddened eyes coming ever closer to my still exposed neck. I sucked in a breath, wanting to cover my ears, block out the shrieking but I couldn’t; they were pinned to my side and the sick, dizzy feeling was getting ever stronger.
In a blink I was back on my feet and I felt the flush leaving my cheeks. A hand was placed on the small of my back and I was pushed to the next; John was sucked away in a mass of whirling silk and satin. I gulped down a breath of air as once again I was launched back to rest in the crux of yet another arm …
I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to look as I was passed from one vampire to another. I felt lace and muslin graze my exposed skin, tripping over my feet and falling, stumbling from one to another, new arms supporting me as fresh fangs lowered to my neck, throat, shoulders …
But they would not bite. I knew they would not bite. Yet it did not alleviate the feeling that I was bait amidst sharks, being torn apart, slowly and cruelly.
It stopped. The room froze once more and the music hushed. The couples around us – although it felt more like me, because only the freezing breath on my neck gave away the fact that I was not held by a statue – paused mid-step, becoming still again. My back was arched, the tip of my hair brushing the floor. I could feel my chest heaving and I screwed my eyes shut; I wanted to scream, it seemed so unfair.