by Tim Collins
I suppose I should try to sort it out. The problem is, my private blood supply doesn’t seem to have been affected, and I don’t want to rock the boat. I know it sounds selfish, but it’s important I drink enough to stay alert in these difficult times. In a way, keeping quiet to protect my daily blood delivery is the least selfish thing I can do.
11:00 p.m.
I went round to see Seth tonight and he showed me how he puts his makeup on. Both men and women used to wear it back in his time, and he saw no reason to give up after he transformed.
He uses this black dust called kohl to trace almond shapes around his eyes. Then he dabs blush on his cheeks, paints his nails with henna, and rubs scented oil on his neck. Most vampires would have found this weird, but I didn’t because I’m open-minded and understanding.
Seth offered to apply the makeup to my face, and I was reluctant at first. But when he said it would help to ward off evil, I thought I might as well give it a try.
I thought I looked quite cool when he was finished, and I gazed in the mirror, imagining myself riding chariots, building pyramids, and bathing in milk (yes, we vampires can see ourselves in mirrors; don’t believe everything you see in horror flicks).
I’d forgotten all about it by the time I went back down to my room. I passed Dad and Cecil on the stairwell, and I couldn’t understand why they were staring.
Dad shook his head. I wonder what he wants sometimes. He complains I don’t have enough friends, but when I make them he’s still not happy.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 22
Everyone was really tired in class today. Even Mr. Dashwood didn’t have the energy to tell anyone off. I got my phone out and played Angry Birds in the middle of his lecture about anti-vampire weaponry and he didn’t even mention it. He just kept droning on about religious symbol barricades and holy water traps.
After the lesson I caught up with Lenora in the corridor.
“What about these rations?” I asked, faking a yawn. “They’re a real fang in the neck, aren’t they?”
“They’re a disgrace,” she said. “I can’t believe you handed over power to that twerp.”
“Don’t think I went down without a fight,” I said. “You should have seen me in there. It was like something from the Vampire–Werewolf War.”
“Well, I hope someone does something,” she said. “Half a pint a day isn’t enough.”
I glanced around. Most of the others were strolling listlessly away, so I leaned in and whispered, “If you’re really thirsty, you could pop over to my room. I’ve got a couple of spare thermoses I could be persuaded to share.”
Lenora grinned at me. I caught a brief glimpse of fang, which shows how thirsty these rations must be making her.
“Sounds good,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
I’m much better at talking to girls now. Just a couple of years ago I’d have taken ages to work up the courage to ask her round for a drink. This time I just came right out with it. I’ll probably get a kiss out of it too. I’m as smooth as a glass of type A- these days.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 23
Lenora knocked on my door at four this morning.
“Can I come in?” she whispered.
I switched off my PlayStation, selected some romantic piano music on iTunes, gave my fangs a quick brush, took a couple of wine glasses out of my cupboard, and lit my candelabra.
“Come in,” I said. I was going to say, “Enter my realm,” but I didn’t want to overdo it.
Lenora threw the door open. She was wearing a black dress that tapered to a thin waist and a wide-brimmed hat with a green feather on the front.
“Is that offer of a drink still on?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said, gesturing to the two glasses.
“Great,” she said. “Come in guys.”
She stepped inside, followed by Ezekiel and Abraham, two middle-aged vampires with brushy mustaches, stovepipe hats, and velvet-lined capes.
I sighed and rooted around in my cupboard for two more glasses.
Ezekiel and Abraham are so boring. They spent all night talking about something called “the Corn Laws.” I’m sure I would have fallen asleep if that were possible.
Lenora nodded and smiled as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard. I bet she wasn’t interested either. She just wanted to make a big deal out of being older than me.
When Lenora’s friends had drained my blood and my will to live, they bowed and took their leave. I was hoping she’d stay behind, but she curtsied and left with them.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 24
I can’t believe I gave up two entire blood bottles for a curtsy. So much for the kiss I was hoping for!
That’s what I get for liking a Victorian vampire, I suppose. She’ll probably want me to propose to her before I’m even allowed to hold her hand.
I wish I fancied a vampire from an era when everyone was less uptight, like the 1960s or caveman days.
Why do I always have to make it difficult for myself? Am I destined to spend eternity alone?
Hang on a minute, I feel a brood coming on. Better nip down to the graveyard before someone steals my place.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 25
Lenora’s stupid friends obviously can’t keep their mouths shut. Shortly after I took in my blood delivery this morning, I got a knock on the door.
It was Rob from the blood collection squad.
“All right, mate?” he said. “I heard you had a stash tucked away in there.”
I could hardly refuse him a sip after all the work he’s done, but I was still annoyed that word about my supply had spread.
Ten minutes later a French vampire called Arnaud called round to see if I could spare a glass of the delicious stuff he’d heard so much about. I have no idea why I let him in.
“Excellent consistency,” he said, holding the glass up to my candle and swirling the blood round. He stuck his beaky nose into the glass and gave it a loud sniff.
“I’m getting sugar . . . I’m getting iron . . . hints of copper . . .”
He took a swig of the blood, swilled it round his mouth, and swallowed it. “Excellent!”
By the time I got rid of the pretentious fiend, there was a massive line outside my door. There was even an argument going on halfway down the line, because Hans had reserved a place for Eddie.
I brought out my thermos and let everyone have a sip. When it was finished, I told them my supply was over, and that they should never ever come back to check if I had more.
I’m going to have to bring my deliveries in right away and hide them behind my coffin from now on, and it’s all because of those loud-mouthed Victorians.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 26
Today we had a geography lesson about vampire covens around the world. The main ones are in Russia, Alaska, Canada, and Finland. There used to be a huge one in Antarctica, but that’s been abandoned due to melting ice caps.
I wonder if all those humans who drive gas-guzzling cars would feel guilty if they knew they’d destroyed our natural habitat.
Probably not. We get such a bad portrayal in the media that they might even be pleased. Whenever you see a vampire on TV, they’re always running after some young girl so they can drink her blood. In reality that’s a very small part of what we do. But we still get landed with the stereotypes.
Seth got told off halfway through the lesson for doodling. I looked over at his scroll and saw he was actually writing hieroglyphics.
I was going to stick up for him, but I didn’t want to get crucifixed again.
Not that Mr. Dashwood looked like he had the energy to punish anyone. He just told Seth to stop and went back to yakking on about covens.
11:00 p.m.
Soccer tonight. Everyone was really weak because of the rationing, so for once I was the best player on the field. I scored sixty goals in the first half, but Mike asked where I was getting my energy from, so I dialed it down. The last thing I want is for everyone to figure out that
my blood supply isn’t really finished.
The other team had Ron as goalie, so they didn’t have much of a chance. Ron’s legs were severed in a motorbike accident in the seventies. For some reason, he held them the wrong way round while they were healing, so now he has backward legs.
He could chop them off and heal them on the right way round again, but he says he likes being different. And yet he moans when he’s last to be picked.
Luckily, the other team got him tonight. Every time he tried to run forward to catch the ball, his legs went the wrong way and he got tangled in the net. It was actually quite hard to avoid scoring against him.
MONDAY, JANUARY 27
Incredibly, things have got even worse. Apparently, Viktor called Henry a “rapscallion’ and now he’s refusing to fetch blood too. I’m not sure what’s so offensive about that. Maybe it was a more serious insult back in his day.
I thought I was a bad leader, but the speed at which Viktor has brought the coven to a standstill is unbelievable. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to us now. Vampires don’t die without blood, but we eventually become too thin and weak to move. In a couple of months this coven will probably look like the supermodels section in a wax museum.
We can’t let it come to that. Someone has to stand up to Viktor. It should be me. But my daily supply of blood is still turning up, so I might leave it for now. But I promise I’ll confront him the moment everyone else is too weak to move or speak.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 28
Lenora came round to my room again tonight. And this time she didn’t bring her boring friends with her. I got a thermos out from behind my coffin and pretended it was the last of my supply.
I poured her a glass and we sat on my coffin and had a good chat. She seems to be warming to me, hopefully not just because of the blood.
She told me all about her old coven in the East End of London. They managed to keep themselves secret until one of their members went on a killing spree in 1888 and they had to disband. Luckily, the papers blamed it all on someone called “Jack the Ripper,” so they were never tracked down.
Lenora seemed interested to hear about my old life as well. I told her about how I used to trade in my old PlayStation titles at Games Exchange to get money off new ones. Actually, she might not have been that fascinated, because she kept looking out the window. I suppose it wouldn’t have meant much to her if she doesn’t know what a computer game is, but it’s still got to be more interesting than the Corn Laws.
“Freshen your blood?” I asked.
I poured her another glass and sneaked closer. I knew it was a good time to try for a kiss, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Maybe if I’d had a couple more glasses.
“I’m glad you saved this blood,” she said. “It means you’ll still have the energy to confront Viktor.”
“Yeah,” I said, inching closer.
“Excellent,” said Lenora, leaping up. “I knew you’d do it! Get him to apologize to Rob, Mike, and Henry, so we can resolve this stupid situation.”
She blew me a kiss and walked out. I suppose a blown kiss is a step up from a curtsy, but I can’t believe I wasted such a brilliant chance for a cuddle. And now I’ve got to confront Viktor and put my precious blood supply at risk. I don’t know why I bother with girls.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29
Viktor and Svetlana weren’t in their room today, so I went up to the discussion room.
I knocked on the door, and a vampire I’d never seen before answered. He was over six feet tall and had long blond hair and sunglasses. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and had a leather holster around his waist.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I was just wondering if Viktor and Svetlana are around,” I replied.
He swung the door open and beckoned me in. Svetlana was sitting at the far end of the table. Viktor was on her knee, sucking blood from a bottle. Six other vampires were standing behind her. They looked almost identical to the one who let me in, with long blond hair, sunglasses, and holsters.
“Meet the new blood collection squad,” she said. “They’ve already brought in an excellent crop.”
Svetlana pointed at the table, where three barrels of blood, a ladle, and a set of wine glasses were set out. “Try it.”
I picked up a glass and went through the barrels one by one. They were all utterly, utterly amazing. Last time I drank blood that fresh and delicious I was sucking it from an open vein.
The first barrel was a salty type A-, as thin and smooth as tomato juice. The second was a tangy, peppery type B+, the sort of thing I’d dip nachos into if I ate food. The third was a thick, sweet type AB+, a kind of red custard.
I drained the last glass, realizing that I’d just enjoyed the finest three-course meal of my vampire life.
“So what did you want to see us about?” asked Svetlana.
I was so distracted by the quality of the blood it took me a while to remember.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was wondering if Viktor could apologize to Rob, Mike, and Henry.”
“And why on earth would he want to do that?” asked Svetlana.
“So they can start collecting blood from the mainland again,” I said.
“But we have a new blood collection squad now,” said Svetlana. “And I think you’ll agree they’re doing a much better job.”
I ran my tongue over my fangs. The taste of the sweet AB+ was still on them. She wasn’t wrong.
Viktor took the bottle out of his mouth. “I hate those smelly old vampires! Don’t ever mention them again!”
“The king has spoken,” said Svetlana. “And if you want any more of this premium-quality blood, I suggest you listen.”
I looked down at the barrels. My fangs were extending again, even though I’d just fed. I was shocked at my own greed.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 30
There’s a large speedboat moored to some rocks at the back of the island. It has a cabin with mirrored windows and a large deck at the back.
This must be the boat the blond vampires arrived in. It would certainly explain how they can get the blood here while it’s still fresh.
There was a flask of that gorgeous sweet AB+ waiting outside my room when I got back. I glugged it right down, and it was just as delicious as I remembered.
I expected the rations to have been lifted by now, but no one seems to have announced anything. Cecil was on kitchen duty, and he was still only letting people take half a pint from the barrel. Judging by the smell, he was still serving the stale old leftovers of Henry’s last trip to the mainland.
When Lenora asked me how my meeting had gone, I said it was fine and everything would be back to normal soon. Which might be true for all I know.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 31
I’m getting a little worried about this whole Viktor situation. I don’t like the look of those blond vampires, I don’t like the way he isn’t sharing the new blood, and I certainly don’t like the way Svetlana referred to him as “the king.”
This evening I went to talk to my parents about it.
When I got to their room, I found Dad blasting out a violin concerto on his ancient record player, while Mum and Cecil were dancing in the middle of the floor. Needless to say, there were a couple of empty barrels lying around.
I couldn’t believe it. They’d been drinking too much, they’d been neglecting their duties, and, worst of all, they’d been getting more of that lovely blood than me. I knew I should have asked for more.
“I came here to ask you what you thought about Viktor,” I said. “But I can see you’re busy so I’ll call back tomorrow.”
Mum staggered over and draped her arm around my shoulder. “Viktor’s not so bad,” she slurred. “He’s like you. A bit of a wimp, but all right really.”
I hadn’t called round to be insulted by family members, but I thought I might as well keep trying.
“How has he been behaving in Circle of Elders meetings?” I asked.
“He’s cancel
ed those,” said Mum. She hiccupped blood down her chin. “But who needs boring meetings when you’ve got lovely fresh stuff like this?”
She flung her arm in the direction of the table, knocking her glass to the floor.
“And blood’s more important than your duty to the coven, is it?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Cecil. “Have you tasted this stuff? It’s amazing. There’s a salty flavor, a spicy flavor, a sweet flavor . . .” I slammed the door and stomped back to my room. I couldn’t believe they’d betray the coven just for a few swigs. I hope it tastes like ashes in their mouths.
When I got back to my room, I noticed that Viktor’s guards had delivered another flask of blood. I thought about taking it up to the discussion room and flinging it in Viktor’s stupid face.
“Here’s what I think of your bribery,” I’d say as I splashed the liquid all over his little suit.
I thought I’d better take a sip first, to check what flavor it was.
No prizes for guessing I didn’t throw it in Viktor’s face after all. I quaffed the whole thing down, and it didn’t taste like ashes in my mouth. It was delicious—a gloopy type A+ with a sort of honey aftertaste. I can honestly say I’ve tried nothing like it before. I just hope that French vampire Arnaud doesn’t get hold of any. He’d never shut up.
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1
Word seems to have spread about the new blood collection squad. Everyone is convinced it means rationing will be over soon. I don’t have the heart to tell them it could be over right now. I wonder when Viktor’s going to make an announcement.