Oxford Blood (The Cavaliers: Book One)

by Georgiana Derwent

  Part of Harriet wanted to ask everything about the subject. The rest of her just wanted to collapse onto the nearest bench and have Tom comfort her. Before she could take steps towards either option, a drunken teenager approached them.

  “Can I borrow your phone mate?” he asked aggressively.

  “Sorry, no,” Tom replied.

  “Give me your fucking phone,” the boy shouted, leaning towards Harriet.

  Tom touched him on the shoulder and stared at him hard. “You’re going to leave us alone. You’re going to go home without bothering anyone else tonight and then you’re going to learn to be less antisocial in future. Maybe get some qualifications and a job.”

  The boy looked confused, whispered, “Sorry,” and ran down a side street without looking back.

  “Well, there’s one plus point to hanging out with vampires I suppose,” said Harriet. “How deep does that mind control thing go?”

  “I’m glad I could do one thing right for you at least,” Tom replied. “As for the mind control, it varies from individual to individual. In my case, that’d certainly be enough to make him go home and stay out of trouble for a few days. The whole suggestion of turning his life around was probably over ambitious, but some of the Senior Officers are good enough to make the entirety of the press forget that they’ve never seen the Chancellor during daylight hours. The only bars are that we can’t break another’s mind control and can’t mesmerise other vampires, apart from ones we’ve made.”

  Harriet longed to pursue the point about the Chancellor – which other public figures were vampires? – but before she could ask, they reached the college. Hours seemed to have passed since Harriet had been getting ready in her room, but the Porters’ Lodge was still open, meaning it couldn’t be after midnight yet. A sense of security descended upon her as they stepped inside the college walls.

  Several other students milled around, returning from low-key evenings, preparing to head into town for wilder ones, or just getting some fresh air mid essay crisis. Harriet loved the fact that she could never go anywhere without bumping into a few people she knew, even if it slowed every journey down.

  Harriet and Tom walked towards their staircase in silence, not wanting any of their discussion to be overheard. Several mutual friends and acquaintances gave them curious looks, obviously hoping for romantic gossip.

  “Where have you two been all dressed up?” shouted Omar, a chemist from the year above who often went to parties in Tom’s room.

  “Just a dinner,” said Tom airily. “Are you heading out?”

  “Well, I’ve got labs in the morning, but Harry and that lot are trying to get me out to Filth. Shall I call you if I’m going, or are you going to be busy?” He accompanied the last comment with an amused glance at Harriet.

  “I think I’ll give it a miss tonight, already feeling pretty wasted from this dinner.” With that, Tom strode away and pulled Harriet along with him.

  Harriet laughed as they opened the door to their shared staircase. “You might as well have told him you were going to spend the night with me. That’s sure as hell what he’s going to tell everyone.”

  “Maybe I should have,” he replied, raising his eyebrows. “Now, are you desperate to get to your room and have some time alone to reflect, or would you rather come to mine for an hour or two? We could have coffee and go over anything else that you still want to know.”

  Harriet didn’t answer, but she headed for his door.

  Tom smiled and let her in.

  Even by the standards of the college’s accommodation, the size of the room surprised Harriet. There were actually two rooms, one at the front for working and meeting friends and a bedroom at the back.

  They stood in the first room, which had a large window looking out into the quad, but as far as Harriet could tell from a glance through the door, the darkened bedroom entirely lacked windows.

  Expensive looking rugs and lamp filled the room and gave it a comforting, opulent air. Even so, Harriet noticed the oddities – the gramophone on one shelf, right next to the iPod speaker, the usual pictures of him with his friends in freshers’ week, accompanied by some black and white photographs and even sepia ones from decades ago.

  She studied one of the oldest looking ones. It showed him lounging against a wall in the college’s main quad with two other boys of the same age. They all wore blazers and boaters and looked very happy in the sun.

  “Is that from before you were changed?” Harriet asked.

  Tom took the photograph from her. “Yes, just. It was towards the end of Trinity term 1925, during Eights Week, about a month before the Cavalier’s Summer Party. It was scorching hot that summer, and I practically lived outside, punting and picnicking and rowing and playing croquet and going to garden parties and balls. I always felt glad I got my money’s worth before I was unable to ever go in the sun again.”

  Harriet didn’t know what to say.

  “Oh, don’t look so miserable on my account. I’m sure Henry and Arthur there had plenty more summers like that, but they’re both dead now, so who really won?”

  “Don’t people ask about the pictures and all the old stuff?” Harriet wondered.

  “Oh the gramophone and decanters and things people put down to me being posh and eccentric. The coffin in the bedroom too for that matter. I just say the pictures are of my grandfather. There’s a striking family resemblance, isn’t there?”

  Tom put some music on (via the iPod rather than the gramophone). She’d have picked out just the same sort of slow, acoustic playlist for this sort of moment. The two of them sat down on the sofa. Harriet noticed a newly released fantasy novel by one of her favourite authors open on the nearby table. She’d been meaning to find time to read the same book. She wouldn’t have thought Tom would like it at all.

  “I’m truly sorry you’ve had such an awful night,” Tom said. “Do you feel all right from the blood loss?”

  “A little lightheaded, which isn’t helping with my shock and confusion, but it’ll be okay. It’s nowhere near as bad as last time. George managed to show a little more self-control.”

  “Well in that case, I suppose it’s question time. Now, there’s not a lot I can say about Augustine and your mother, partly because their relationship and her turning have always been shrouded in mystery, partly because it has to be her story to tell. But anything else you want to know about vampires in general or the Cavaliers in particular ask now, and I’ll do my best. No more evasion I promise.”

  “Tell me about the Cavaliers,” Harriet requested. “What’s the point of the society?”

  “Well, there’s a degree to which they’re like every other dining society in this place – it gives everyone involved a chance to be exclusive, to dress up, to have wild and glamorous parties. Members come to Oxford every few decades to relive their youth with others in the same situation. It’s a good place to do it. Plenty of young, rich attractive people in one place, plus most of us find the traditions and the old buildings comforting.”

  After only a few weeks at Oxford, Harriet could already understand their urge to return every so often during an endless lifetime.

  “And of course, there are some tutors at each college who are in on it, so we are admitted and treated as normal students, but generally let off essays and tutorials, unless we’re desperate for a little academic stimulation, in which case they’ll hold them at night.

  “There is also a much more serious purpose and that’s to maintain vampire influence by seeking out the most talented and ambitious students and making them one of us. We give them all the help they need to become powerful politicians and media barons and heads of major companies. Once upon a time, ancient vampires could hold the same important position at fifty-year intervals, but photographs and the internet lead to people asking questions if anyone tries to reinvent themselves too quickly.

  “We stick strictly to five a year. Too many people in government or at the same bank only coming out at ni
ght would suggest a conspiracy; a handful doing it seems like their own eccentricity. Anyone who reports injuries consistent with a vampire attack is hushed up, police cases against us are dropped, and investigative journalism pieces are not printed at the editor’s strict instructions. We even have a chap at Google trying his best to make sure internet searches into our activities only come up with the ramblings of lunatics and not anything more prescient.

  “Basically, when people talk about ‘the old boys’ network’ or ‘the establishment’ or ‘the man,’ they don’t know it, but it’s us that they mean.”

  Harriet nodded. “Old boys seems the right term. No-one’s thought to get women involved in this great conspiracy, have they?”

  “It’s been discussed in the last few decades. There are certainly enough amazing women at Oxford, and enough female politicians and lawyers and journalists to mean it would be a sensible idea, but you’ve got to remember that this is a society founded in the seventeenth century with many members older than that. Attitudes forged over hundreds of years change slowly, though I suspect they’ll crack at some point.”

  “All of this is very interesting, but it still doesn’t explain your behaviour,” Harriet said, leaning into him slightly. “What was with all the avoidance and the ‘it’s safer if we don’t speak’ stuff?”

  Tom took her hand in his, and tiny pulses of electricity shot through her body. She wondered how it would feel if he touched her somewhere else or, considering the reaction she’d had when George had done it, if he fed from her.

  “I owe it to you to explain. I was immediately attracted to you on that first day in the New Rooms, but once I noticed your necklace, I realised who you were. For years, we’ve all been curious about Adelaide’s mysterious human daughter. I didn’t dare take things further without asking her permission, but when I called her, she told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t good enough for you. She ordered me to keep an eye on you, to ensure that you met the right people and came to no harm, and above all, to report back to her. But on no account could I make my feelings known to you or make any attempt to act on them. To be on the safe side, I had to avoid you as much as possible.”

  “That’s insane. It’s not the eighteenth century. I can go out with whoever I want. Besides, I adore my mother, but I’m not having my love life dictated by someone who walked out on me when I was a baby.”

  Harriet saw shock in Tom’s eyes. She supposed that between her charm and her apparent status as first lady of the vampires, open criticism of her mother was rare. For that matter, other than token jokes to the twins, she didn’t think she’d ever had a bad thing to say about her before.

  “It’s not that simple. Vampire culture still holds to those old-fashioned ideas. Augustine and your mother just aren’t used to being defied, even on the little issues, and nothing matters more to her than who is going to turn you.”

  “To turn me?” Harriet went paler than Tom. “You mean my own mother wants me to become a vampire?”

  “Isn’t it understandable? What mother wouldn’t want their child to live forever? What mother wouldn’t want her daughter to be powerful, beautiful, and always young? It’s the same as wanting you to get a degree, eat healthily, or marry the right man. Besides, most vampires regard most humans with a strong degree of contempt. Why would she wish that sort of mediocre life on you?”

  “So this is her attempt at being a pushy parent? Do you have some way to contact her? I need words right now.”

  “Don’t speak to her tonight. It’s almost the holidays. Visit her and say what you need to say. I know she’d love to see you. In the meantime, whilst it kills me to say it, I mean what I told you in the bar. The closer we get, the more we risk making two very powerful vampires utterly furious. Three if you count George. We need to keep apart.”

  “Forget that,” said Harriet. “She might not have been around, but I’ve spent my whole life being defined by my mother. I’ve had enough.” With that, she leaned in closer and kissed him.

  She seemed to have caught Tom utterly by surprise. For a second, it looked as though his sense of self-preservation might prevail, but then he gave into the force of the moment.

  The strange electrical feeling flowed through Harriet’s entire body. She pressed hard against Tom, kissing him relentlessly, terrified that if she came up for air for even a second, one or both of them would lose their nerve. The sensation of his lips on hers and of their arms around each other was so right. A faint twinge of guilt hit her at the idea of acting like this after already getting so close to George just a few hours before. She pushed the thought aside. Tom was the man for her – if he just had the strength to give in and resist her mother’s commands.

  The kiss unleashed the force of Tom’s weeks of self-control. She could feel his fangs with the end of her tongue, and the sensation of this made her shiver. He ran his hands over the silky fabric of her beautiful gold dress, leaving Harriet barely able to breathe. He slipped the dress’ thin straps down over her arms, leaving her breasts entirely exposed, and then broke off the kiss to take first one and then the other nipple in his mouth. For all his evident strength and bloodlust, he licked her surprisingly gently. She moaned slightly, and he looked at her and smiled.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “There’s still time to back out and not take the risk.”

  Harriet shook her head violently. “Don’t you dare stop now!” she said between shallow breaths. She stood up, allowing the silk dress to fall completely to the floor, showing her matching silky gold knickers and black stockings.

  Tom gasped. From then on, he asked no more questions. He stood too and elegantly took off his white tie outfit down to his boxer shorts.

  Harriet half expected him to be wearing some bizarre 1920s underwear so was both relieved by his Calvin Klein’s and impressed by the bulge in them.

  He picked her up as he had done that night on the Steele Walk, only this time holding her more tightly and allowing his hands to explore her body. Moving as quickly and easily as though he were carrying nothing at all, he led her into his bedroom.

  He hadn’t been joking about the coffin. Harriet shivered slightly at the sight of the very ornate one by the far wall. To her relief, though, he laid her down on the double bed.

  For a while, they simply lay there, holding each other and kissing passionately. Then Tom slowly traced his hands down her body and stroked her through her delicate knickers. Harriet gave a little sigh and moved against him. Smiling at her appreciation, he slid the tiny silk garments off her and resumed his work. His fingers felt almost too good on her exposed body. She breathed hard and reached into Tom’s boxer shorts to repay him in kind.

  She rather enjoyed the additional stimulation of his cold finger, like being teased with an ice cube, but the coolness of his cock surprised her. He made sounds of appreciation as she stroked him, but it surprised her to hear no sound of heavy breathing and feel no increase in his heartbeat.

  After a while, he took her hand away and turned her onto her back. He shuffled down the bed and licked her with the same delicacy and purposefulness that she’d seen several vampires use on their victims’ necks. After a few short minutes of fantastic sensation, the tension within her built to an unbearable level. She gripped his free hand hard and stroked his hair frantically. He licked her faster and faster whilst stroking her inside with a cool finger and the world exploded. She stiffened and gripped him, calling out his name in a gasp.

  Tom kept licking, extending her pleasure until she couldn’t take it anymore and had to force his head up. He grinned at her blissed out face and took her into his arms, kissing and stroking her whilst she rested and recovered and snuggled into him.

  “Ready for more?” he asked after a few minutes had passed in a relaxed and joyful daze.

  “Oh yes,” Harriet replied with a smile.

  Without further words, he smoothly pushed her legs apart and laid his slim but firm body on top of her. The
y both gasped as he entered her. Tom quickly got a smooth rhythm going and Harriet matched it, pushing herself onto him and grinding against him.

  She lost track of time as he moved in her. Conscious thoughts faded away, but a sense of joy and satisfaction filled her at the idea that Tom had finally made his feelings clear in the nicest possible way. Another climax built up, and as she reached it, Tom moved faster, kissing her hard. She came for the second time and he shuddered, losing control at the same time.

  They lay still, and then Tom rolled over onto his back and pulled her close to rest on his shoulder.

  “That was unbelievable,” he said. “I’ve had decades of this, but I’ve never felt such closeness, such a connection before.”

  Harriet tried to find the words to agree. She’d only slept with two people before, but that had certainly been something entirely different, fuelled by their obvious feelings for each other.

  “So no more denial?” she managed. “Promise me you’ll defy them all and that we can be together?”

  “I promise,” Tom said, his voice still thick with passion.

  They kissed again and then fell asleep curled into each other. Just before she gave into unconsciousness, it struck her that he hadn’t even attempted to drink her blood.

  “Wake up, Harriet.”

  At the sound of Tom’s voice, Harriet’s eyes snapped open. She instantly remembered the events of the night before and studied his face to look for any hints of another of his changes of mood.

  “God, you look beautiful,” he sighed, catching sight of her naked body sprawled on the bed, her carefully styled hair messed up and spread around her head. “I’d love to keep you here for hours, but it’s almost dawn. I have to get into my other bed now.”

  Harriet looked puzzled, and he gestured towards the coffin. Despite only having a few hours of sleep, Harriet bounded out of bed and pulled her clothes back on. Clearly, vampire blood really did have rejuvenating powers.

  Once she was dressed, Tom gave her a final kiss on the lips. “Come and find me tonight. Whatever happens next, I’m glad we had that.”

  Harriet’s head whirled as she left him and climbed the stairs to her room. A shower then some time alone to get her thoughts in order dominated her mental to do list. Instead, on the landing outside her room, she bumped into Josh, who always had early morning choir rehearsals.

  “Last night’s clothes?” he asked.

  “For what it’s worth, yes,” she answered, sounding angrier than she would have liked to.

  “So, did you spend the night with the blond rich wanker or the dark haired posh twat?”

  “I’m not even going to justify that with an answer,” Harriet snapped, storming into her room and slamming the door.