Oxford Blood (The Cavaliers: Book One)

by Georgiana Derwent

  ***

  The following weekend was May Eve. The evening began with a pirate bop. Harriet fastened herself into the corset top she’d bought for the occasion and looked forward to the fun that would be occurring. She accompanied the top with a short, floaty black skirt and fishnet tights - an almost inevitable part of all the women’s bop costumes and half of the men’s. She threaded a ribbon printed with skull and crossbones through the laces of the corset and finished it all off with a pirate hat and sword she’d bought from the fancy dress shop. She forced her hair into wild pre-Raphaelite curls and put on a ton of black eyeliner, wishing she still had her necklace, both to complete the look and to protect herself.

  She met Tom briefly when the sun first went down. The Cavaliers had organised a members’ only dinner in college, which he’d be spending most of the evening at. Since he’d defied George and the senior vampire hierarchy to be with her he’d been keeping his distance from the other Cavaliers, but in recent weeks he’d been drifting back into the fold.

  “The May Eve Dinner is one of the most important events of the year, and there’s always fantastic food and drink,” he explained.

  “And people to drink from,” Harriet added.

  “Well yes, that. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

  Harriet shook her head and mumbled something about it being okay. The thought of Tom drinking the blood of other people disturbed her from both a squeamish and a jealous perspective, but the idea of him looking weak in front of the others worried her even more. Besides, although she allowed him to feed from her regularly, she alone couldn’t provide him with enough blood without seriously endangering herself.

  “I’d be grateful if you can at least try and pick the ugliest girl there,” she added, only half joking.

  “Well, that’s usually exactly what I get, but no doubt this year George will take it upon himself to find me the most beautiful and delicious donor he can, in the hope of luring me away from you,” he replied, laughing.

  Harriet sulked and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard.

  “You don’t have to have any worries on that score,” he said. “I’d like to demonstrate that to you, but we should be off to our respective parties. You know what they say about the First of May though. Meet me after midnight.”

  “What do they say?” Harriet asked.

  “Oh, if you don’t know, you’ll have to wait and see.”

  Harriet dragged herself out of Tom’s room, grabbed a bottle of wine she’d bought earlier and took it over to Ben’s pre-bop room party.

  All the usual crowd had poured into the room, as well as Ben’s rowing team, some friends of Josh’s from the choir and several random people from the staircase. Maybe the theme had appealed or maybe the special occasion had spurred people on. Either way, almost everybody had made a real effort to dress as a pirate. The fancy dress shop had done a roaring trade in hats, swords and Jolly Roger flags and the charity shops and Primark had sold hundreds of stripy shirts. In one corner of the room, a group attempted to make their own swords with cardboard and silver foil. Their tequila shots didn’t help the process along, but they seemed to be having fun.

  Harriet had several shots herself. After a while, a few of them settled down with their glasses to play Never Have I Ever. Each player took it in turns to announce something that they had never done, from cheating in an exam to having a threesome. Everyone in the circle who had done the thing had to down their shot.

  The game didn’t embarrass her too much. Everyone knew Tom, so no one speculated about who she was or wasn’t sleeping with, and as far as normal behaviour went, she’d done enough interesting/amusing/sexy things to sound fun, but not so many as to sound weird or overly slutty.

  As long as no one says, “I have never gone out with a vampire,” or “I have never broken a sacred blood bond,” then I ought to be on fairly steady ground.

  “I have never kissed a girl,” she said, when it was her turn, struggling to think of anything more imaginative. All the guys drank, including Greg, who was openly gay.

  “I was fifteen,” he said indignantly when several people looked at him questioningly.

  Several of the girls also drank, Caroline included, much to the boys’ delight.

  “Why don’t you give us a demonstration,” one of the drunker ones shouted. “Poor old Harriet has never tried; maybe you should show us how it’s done.”

  “Wait, wait, let me get my camera,” his friend shouted.

  “Shut up, you perverts,” Caroline said, laughing. “Anyway, it’s my turn. I have never been arrested.”

  The game went on for another few turns then everyone agreed to head over to the bop. The shots and the revelations of the game combined to fill Harriet with warmth and amusement. She couldn’t wait to dance.

  Their group had to force their way into the bar. Harriet hadn’t seen it so full since freshers’ week. Third years usually shunned organised college events in favour of either work or their own parties, but even some of them had come along.

  Like Ben’s friends, everyone had made an effort with their outfits, and enjoyed plenty of drinks before coming out. They also seemed more willing than usual to dance. In Tom’s absence, Harriet danced both in a big group and with her friends.

  Josh looked great in a ripped black silk shirt held together by a leather cord. It fit him tightly, showing off his body and his naturally tanned skin. She danced with him for the first time since the toga bop, relieved that all the awkwardness of that night had evaporated.

  “Will you be my college wife?” he asked, presenting her with a child’s sparkly ring. “I want to have little fresher children with you next year.”

  Harriet laughed and squeezed the plastic ring onto her finger. “I’d never dream of college-marrying anyone else.”

  Afterwards, they joined Ben, Caroline and Olamide and jumped around happily in a group.

  “Where’s Callum?” Harriet asked Olamide, smiling at her black jeans and striped shirt. She looked good, but she was pretty much the only woman not dressed in a mini-skirt.

  “He’s working, would you believe? On May Eve. Don’t get me wrong, I think work is important, but he’s so over the top sometimes.”

  Harriet looked at her in surprise. She had never heard Olamide say a bad word about her boyfriend.

  Before she knew it, 2am came around and that part of the evening drew to a close. Along with several other people, Harriet went back to Ben’s room. By sheer chance, most of the people living on his staircase also possessed outgoing natures, and they’d given over the entire building to the party, with one room having music blasting, another storing the drinks, and a third acting as a makeshift chill out room. The porters seemed to have accepted that everyone was likely to be awake and didn’t try to break up the party.

  Before long, someone knocked at the door. Ben frowned – people had generally just been wandering in and out and the door was wide open. Harriet glanced up to see Tom leaning against the doorframe in his white tie Cavaliers outfit. The way he never seemed at all tired or dishevelled, even after partying hard all evening, always impressed her.

  “Hey, Tom,” Ben said, his confusion evident in his voice. “Why are you just standing there? Come in and get a drink. I’ve got Harriet here too.”

  As soon as Ben extended the invitation, Tom walked through the door and into the room. Harriet wondered how much the potential recruits knew about the existing members’ ‘condition.’ Judging by the fact that Ben seemed unaware of Tom’s need for an invitation, she could only assume not a lot.

  Tom helped himself to a vodka and coke and chatted to a few people, most of whom (despite still being dressed as pirates) gently mocked his formal attire. After a while, he cornered Harriet. She noticed his rosy cheeks and wondered who he’d fed from.

  “Good night then?” she asked. “Where are the other Cavaliers?”

  “They’ve still got the room. So drinking in there, or
wandering the grounds looking for likely donors.”

  Harriet smiled to hide her discomfort at the concept. They weren’t really doing any harm – most girls would even be delighted to bump into the handsome, charming members in a dark alley, let alone on such a special night, and they neither felt nor remembered the bloodletting, only the fun before and afterwards.

  “Anyway, it’s time for some fun of our own. Did you find out what it is they say about the first of May?”

  “I’ve still no idea,” she replied.

  “Way-hey, first of May, outdoor fucking starts today,” he whispered, taking her hand and leading her out into the quad and then onto the Steele Walk. Hands gripped tightly, they walked until they reached a sufficiently secluded spot, where he spread his jacket on the ground.

  “Don’t mess up my outfit,” she said, giggling. “You don’t know how long it took me to get into this corset.”

  “Then we’ll leave it on. It suits you.”

  He pulled off her tights and her little pants, and leaving everything else in place, began to play with her.

  “Climb on top,” he commanded, once she was wet and squirming. “That should keep your clothes as perfect as possible.”

  Harriet did as he suggested. He too had only removed the most essential items of clothing. He still wore a white silk shirt, and a bow tie and waistcoat in the Cavalier colours.

  She frantically kissed him and stroked his soft dark hair as she rocked back and forth on him. They came almost together, and she collapsed exhausted onto his chest. He held her tightly, stroking her back as her breathing began to slow.

  Afterwards, they lay there for a while. Despite the cold, utter contentment floated through Harriet’s body and she had no wish to move. Tom, flushed with her blood and eternally warm, looked as though he could stay there forever, or at least until the sun came up. Eventually, he stirred himself.

  “I need to get back for the champagne duelling,” he said languorously. “You should come. Unlike most of our activities, it’s fun to watch and safe for public consumption.”

  It sounded ridiculous and intriguing in equal measure, so Harriet nodded and forced her over-relaxed muscles to let her stand.

  They walked back through the woods. With summer on the way, the trees full and the river low, it already seemed less spooky than it had done when George had attacked her out there. It already felt like years ago. She thought of that night as the real beginning of her time at Oxford.

  Surprisingly large numbers of people still milled around on the lawns despite the tower’s bell having already rang for 4am. Some still wore pirate outfits, whilst others had managed to make time to get changed. The Cavaliers had grouped on the lawn in front of the Manor, a striking Georgian accommodation block. Several people were staring at them. Between their beauty, their elegant outfits and that other indefinable quality, they certainly stood out.

  The Cavaliers made no speeches and observed no formalities. For once, they seemed just to be out to have fun. The format of the event was simple. Two members took a bottle of champagne each from a large pile. They shook it up and then ran to their opponent, the objective being to release the cork at just the right moment to soak the other as thoroughly as possible without being soaked themselves. In between rounds, the contestants either swigged the remains of the bottles or poured them over each other.

  Tom entered into the spirit of the thing. He covered his first opponent in champagne but received a soaking from his second one.

  Some of the onlookers laughed and clapped. Others just perved on the attractively soaked men, their white shirts clinging to their firm bodies. A third camp mumbled about the pointlessness and excess, and claimed it gave exactly the wrong impression of Oxford.

  Harriet grinned at the spectacle. She’d never seen the usually pristine vampires look so bedraggled.

  The event ended, perhaps inevitably, with a showdown between George and Rupert. They fired at the same time, the two streams of champagne merging into one in mid air, soaking them both. It occurred to Harriet that with their perfect reflexes, they should both have been able to jump away in time, but perhaps the rules forbade it.

  Everyone laughed as they all sat down on the grass, other than George and Rupert who glared at each other.

  Harriet ran over to Tom. Embracing him in front of them all probably wasn’t sensible, but he looked so cute with his wet hair that she just couldn’t resist.

  “How about a real duel?” George said suddenly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, George. It’s getting on for sunrise, and there’s no need to spoil the fun,” Rupert drawled.

  “Not with you, idiot,” George snapped. “With Tom. We still haven’t resolved this whole betrayal thing.”

  Everyone fell silent and looked at her. She still had one arm around Tom, and her heart began to pound.

  “Is that a formal challenge?” Tom asked in a strained tone.

  “Oh, absolutely,” George said, grinning now. “Are you going to come and watch, Harriet? Who will you cheer for? I suppose I could always make sure it’s me since you lost your little trinket.”

  “What does this involve?” she whispered to Tom.

  “We’d fight with swords, most likely. Try and stab each other through the heart. The point is that we can take what ought to be mortal injuries and be fine in a few days time, as long as fire or wood aren’t involved.”

  “Don’t do it,” she begged. “That sounds horrific.”

  “If it’s a formal challenge, I don’t have much choice. I’ve already pushed our laws and customs to the limit by being with you.”

  He turned to stare at George. “I accept then,” he said. “But I want Harriet left out of this. No mind control.”

  “Well, I think she should watch, and if she’s doing that, I don’t want her getting involved. I’m told stab wounds are unhealthy for humans.”

  “If this is going ahead, perhaps I can exert just enough control to stop her from moving,” Rupert mused. “Would you accept that?”

  “I think you all seem to forget that I’m not a vampire. I don’t have to play by your stupid rules,” she said.

  “Of course not. You can walk away now if you’d prefer, and sit there wondering what is happening,” Rupert said. “But I think you’d prefer to see for yourself, and that means doing as we say.”

  “Oh, fine,” Harriet said. “Is this happening on the Manor’s lawn too? I’m sure everyone would love to see a stabbing. Now that really will give exactly the wrong impression of Oxford.”

  “We’ll go to Oak Meadow,” Rupert said authoritatively. “They shouldn’t be disturbed there.”

  Oak Meadow lay beyond the Steele Walk, about fifteen minutes away from the college. The trees on three sides and water on the other kept it completely excluded.

  “Doesn’t that involve crossing the river?” George asked.

  “Absolutely,” Rupert replied, smirking. “But if you’re going to insist on this sort of childish behaviour, I think you should put ridiculous superstitions aside.”

  They all headed for the large iron gates leading out onto Steele Walk.

  “Someone needs to fetch swords,” George said. If he had any nerves about the upcoming fight, he certainly wasn’t showing them.

  “I’ll go,” said Archie, despite having spent most of the evening sitting around sulking.

  Everyone looked at him in surprise.

  “My goodness,” said George. “You’re actually willing to get involved in a Cavalier event? Does that mean you’ve got over your lost love?”

  “No, and I probably never will,” he replied. “But I’ve always tried to do everything well. Maybe it will even work with this whole vampire business. Maybe if I prove myself you’ll give me the sort of boost you gave Edward.”

  “Well, that’s the spirit,” said Rupert. “Still, I hope you’ll forgive me for not trusting you 100% after the way you’ve been acting all year. We’ll all be very grateful if y
ou’ll go and collect the swords, but I want Crispin to go with you, just to be sure everything goes smoothly.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Archie replied.

  With that, Archie and Crispin strode away towards Tom’s room, whilst the rest of them stepped out onto the Steele Walk. They mainly walked in silence, focussed on the serious task ahead. Harriet could barely believe that only an hour before she’d been wandering the same path with Tom, laughing and holding hands.

  After a few minutes, their group reached the bridge that led to the meadow. The younger vampires stepped over it nonchalantly, but the older ones had to be coaxed or even dragged across by their companions.

  “Are the older ones just more superstitious or actually more affected by running water?” Harriet asked Tom, hoping the others couldn’t hear. He’d hesitated for a second or two then walked across the bridge without any real trouble. George, on the other hand, was acting like a startled horse. Harriet remembered his refusal to go on the bridge the night he’d attacked her.

  “A bit of both, really,” he replied. “It’s the same for most of our problems. The older and more powerful vampires are definitely more susceptible to sunlight. But they are also more nervous around crucifixes and things, just because they were brought up in a more religious time.”

  “George is stronger than you, isn’t he? I mean, that’s just a fact.”

  “That’s fair. This is your mother’s point after all. He’s a lot older, and he’s really worked on his powers. Plus, on a practical level, having been born into a seventeenth century aristocratic family, he’s probably just generally better at sword fighting than I am.”

  “Do you know how to do it at all?” Harriet asked. She didn’t think she could stand to see him hurt.

  “Oh yes, I’m reasonably good as it happens. I actually fenced for Eton and then for the college, back in the twenties. But that’s rather different to training daily to fight in a war.”

  Harriet didn’t ask any more questions. She didn’t really want to hear the answers.

  The group sat down in the meadow, waiting for Crispin and Archie to return with swords. Apparently, the Cavaliers presented all new recruits with one shortly after they joined, as swords were one of the symbols of the organisation.

  “Would it help if I gave you more of my blood?” Harriet whispered to Tom.

  “I suppose it would, but I’ve already drank from you once tonight. I’m not sure it’d be a good idea to do it again.”

  “Don’t be stupid. If it’ll help you at all, then of course I want to do it. Take as much as you need. I’ll recover fast enough, and there’s not that much on next week.”

  Tom stared into the middle-distance, but she took his head and guided it to her neck. It would have been nicer to do this somewhere private, but there wasn’t time for niceties. He bit down. At first, he drank slowly, obviously cautious about taking too much, but within moments, his instincts kicked in and he began to drink deeply.

  Harriet’s muscles tensed at the thought of the duel, and despite her brave words, at the idea of Tom taking too much blood, but she tried to stay calm. She stroked Tom’s soft hair as he drank and let herself drift into the euphoric trancelike state that a drinking vampire could induce.

  “Here we are,” Archie shouted, reappearing with two swords. Tom broke off suddenly, keeping one arm around Harriet so that she didn’t fall to the ground. Archie threw one to George and the other to Tom. Both of them used their perfect reflexes to catch them easily.

  “Where is Crispin?” Rupert asked.

  “He wouldn’t cross the bridge. Seems dreadfully old fashioned to me,” Archie replied.

  “Oh well, we’d better get started. We’re running out of non-daylight hours.”

  Tom and George stood, and walked to the centre of the meadow. The moment he let go of her, Harriet slumped down. She suspected she’d never had as much blood taken before. Her eyes kept trying to close and her vision blurred, but if it helped Tom to win then she didn’t care.

  Rupert counted down, and when he finished, the two vampires strode over to each other and began to fight. Harriet watched their battle in a daze. Both Tom and George moved incredibly fast, faster than any human could. They swung their heavy swords as though they weighed nothing, and dodged attacks that seemed impossible to avoid.

  Harriet found it difficult to tell who had the upper hand, but Tom wasn’t struggling anywhere near as much as she’d feared he might. The fight went on and on. How were they finding the energy to keep going?

  “You’re better than I thought,” George shouted, laughing. “You ought to all but drain people more often. I always find it helps.”

  Tom didn’t reply, just concentrated on fending off George’s attacks.

  He’s starting to weaken, Harriet realised. All of his energy focussed on defence rather than attack.

  “When does this end?” she shouted to Rupert, who couldn’t take his eyes off the battle.

  “It’s a fight to the apparent death. At some point, one of them will take a wound that would kill a human. They’ll pass out but be fine after a while.”

  George gasped. Tom had managed to catch his arm, cutting the skin. Almost immediately, the wound closed and healed. George fought back with renewed intensity. Both combatants lost their cool, and before long, George had inflicted a similar cut on Tom. From then on, the fighting turned frantic. They abandoned the careful defences in favour of risking all on stabbing at each other. Every few seconds, one would make contact with the other’s body, cutting them terribly. Logically, Harriet knew that they would heal fast and that no real harm could occur, but watching it still sickened her. The others had no such qualms, cheering either the one they supported, or any impressive move.

  Suddenly, Tom had his sword to George’s neck, and everyone fell silent. Whilst she would rather it happened to George than Tom, Harriet could still hardly bear to see his throat slit. She closed her eyes, involuntarily. It took all her strength to open them again, and when she did, the sight of Tom on the floor horrified her. Somehow, George had dodged the sword and knocked Tom off balance.

  Get up, she willed silently. She wanted to shout encouragement, but couldn’t find the strength. George threw Tom’s sword across the meadow. He leaned over him and thrust his sword down hard. She screamed as it pierced her boyfriend’s heart. Blood went everywhere. My blood mainly, she thought, before passing out.