Where Loyalty Lies

by Hannah Valentine

  “Good.”

  I watched as Holt worked his way round the kitchen. His movements were swift and confident, giving me the impression that he’d done this many times before. In almost no time at all, he’d produced a stack of amazing-smelling pancakes right in front of me.

  “Do you have maple syrup?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  I ransacked my cupboard to find a bottle that was still sealed. I’d brought it a few months ago when I’d attempted to make pancakes for Pancake Day. It hadn’t gone quite as well as I’d hoped and they’d gone straight from frying pan to bin.

  “Oh my God, they’re amazing,” I said rudely through my first mouthful.

  Holt looked just a little pleased with himself. I couldn’t blame him. These put every other pancake I’d ever eaten to shame. I was halfway through the stack before it occurred to me that Holt hadn’t made any for himself.

  “So, it’s just... erm... blood that you eat, then?” I asked. “I mean, you don’t ever eat normal food?”

  “No, we don’t ever eat food. Most of our kind do still drink, but that’s for pleasure not for necessity.”

  “So you still sit and have a cup of tea?” I asked, amused by the image.

  “A small handful do drink tea or coffee, but most of us are more partial to something a little stronger.”

  “You mean alcohol?” I asked and, when Holt nodded, I chuckled. “So your need for all food and drink is taken away and the one thing that you hold onto is alcohol? Personally, I think I’d have gone with chocolate. Or maybe these pancakes.”

  Holt smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

  I finished my last mouthful and started washing the plate.

  “Do I need to bring stuff like this with me?” I asked, holding up the plate.

  “No need for anything like that. Whatever happens with The Sénat, you’ll likely be at Rillith for a while. Everything will be provided for you there, so all you really need is clothes and personal belongings.”

  Holt and I cleaned the kitchen together and I finished my packing in even less time than I’d anticipated. Holt didn’t seem at all surprised that I could fit all my worldly possessions into two bags. He took them with him back to the hotel he’d been staying at. He wanted to get his things and his car. He instructed me to wait in my flat until he called to say he’d pulled up in the street outside.

  As I waited, I paced from room to room, feeling like I’d forgotten to pack something important. I’d moved around a fair bit in the last few years but this move was very different. Before, I’d always moved to a similar kind of run-down flat and got any mundane jobs I could find that paid cash-in-hand. I had a feeling there was going to be nothing run-down or mundane about Rillith.

  Since I’d officially made up my mind to go with Holt, my excitement had overridden my nerves. I was well aware that this wasn’t going to be a fairytale ending, where I was taken into a new world, finally accepted and lived happily ever after, but ever since I was a child I’d been told that I had evil in me and that I should spend my life doing good and praying in the hope that it might one day be removed from me. I’d known for a long time that the things Mary had called “evil” were merely abnormalities that scared her because she didn’t know how to explain them; now I had a chance not only to discover them, but to divulge them to people who’d accept me as normal.

  When Holt called to tell me that he was outside, I said a last goodbye to my flat and left. On the way out I posted a letter into Mr Jackson’s to explain that I’d had to leave for a family emergency. I’d included enough rent to pay for the month. I was tempted to give it to him in person so that I could see how annoyed he’d be at having paid for my new locks when I wasn’t even going to live there anymore, but after last night I decided that a quiet exit was better. I felt satisfied that at least the next tenant in my flat would be safe from Ben’s thieving ways.

  I heaved a sigh of relief as I climbed into Holt’s gunmetal Aston Martin. Either Chris had decided against his threat to make me pay, or he was too late. I’d not only got away but I was doing it in style.

  I wondered if Holt had bought the Aston Martin because he loved the James Bond films, or if he’d bought the car first and then discovered that a fictional character called James Bond was always associated with it. Judging by his non-existent knowledge of Harry Potter, I assumed the latter.

  I waited patiently for Holt to pull away and start our journey, but instead he just sat there giving me an odd look. My stomach clenched. Had he changed his mind? Did I look so glaringly out of place in his beautiful car that he was realising I would never fit in at Rillith?

  “Well? You need to tell me where to go,” Holt said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Well I was kind of hoping you knew the way there, seeing as my only knowledge of Rillith is that it’s somewhere in Scotland.”

  I saw Holt trying to cover up another of those amused smiles.

  “I meant, where do you need to go first?”

  “Nowhere,” I answered, not really sure what he was getting at.

  “Well, don’t you need to go and inform someone that you won’t be showing up for work?”

  “I’ve already done that.”

  “Well, how about a bank? You must need to get some money out.”

  “I don’t have a bank. I keep all my money to hand.” As soon as I’d said it, I realised it probably wasn’t the best idea to be telling a near stranger that my life savings were packed in all my stuff in the back seat of his car.

  Holt frowned at me. “Why don’t you have a bank account?”

  I averted my gaze and pretended to watch a young couple walking down the street, hand in hand, while I decided what to tell Holt. Eventually, I decided on the truth, but I kept my gaze on the couple as I talked.

  “After that evening, I thought that you or he might have been after me; I packed up and left that same night and, when I settled down here, I didn’t want to do anything that could lead him to me. That’s why I don’t have a bank account, a payroll number, a passport or a driving licence because they’d all have my name on and it didn’t feel safe.”

  The couple had rounded the corner now but I kept my gaze outside, not wanting to catch a glimpse of Holt staring at me like I was an idiot.

  He said nothing but the engine of the car roared into life and my stomach flipped as we started to drive out of the town; it had nothing to do with nerves or excitement and everything to do with speed.

  It had always annoyed me, seeing people in fancy sports cars sticking to the speed limit. Surely the reason you have a car like that is to put your foot down and get some thrills? Holt clearly agreed with my way of thinking as he weaved us in and out of traffic at a speed that I told myself I was better off not knowing.

  Chapter 11

  We’d been driving for hours and the sky was darkening when Holt turned off the road and slowed to a stop. I looked out the window to see that we were at a service station and we were parked outside a Burger King. I gave Holt a quizzical look.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  I looked at the Burger King and then back at him. After our earlier conversation about his diet, I knew he wasn’t talking about chomping on a Big Whopper Burger.

  “Um...” I stumbled over a few sentences in my mind, trying to find a polite way to ask.

  “Just go in and get whatever you want. I’ll meet you back at the car.”

  I got out of the car and was so concerned about what it was that Holt was about to do, that I didn’t look where I was going and it was only when I smacked into someone that I snapped back into reality.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry,” I mumbled as the woman I’d collided with bent to pick up the bag of food that she’d dropped. She smiled at me as she stood up.

  “No harm done.”

  I mumbled another apology and made my way to the bathroom of Burger King, not knowing when I would next get the chance to go.

  A brief glance outside at the car, whil
e I was waiting for my food, showed me that it was empty. Nerves made me tap my foot against the tiled floor of the restaurant, feeling tense and jumpy under the harsh fluorescent lighting. I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting – people screaming, sirens blaring, one of those helicopters with a search-light beaming?

  The young guy behind the counter showed up with my bag of food and I headed back out. I was just wondering whether to get in the car or wait outside, when I saw Holt rounding the corner with the woman I’d collided with. My eyes widened as I took in her appearance; she looked... normal. Completely unalarmed. She shot me another smile as she passed and then, still holding her bag of food, got into her car and drove off.

  Holt got back into the car without saying a word. I stood by the passenger door, not quite able to bring myself to open it and get in.

  I’d known about what vampires drank, but I just hadn’t expected it to be done so quickly and easily, in a public place where nobody had even noticed.

  I stared at the handle of the car door. If I couldn’t cope with this, now was the time to decide, not when I was stranded in the middle of God knows where in Scotland. After a few minutes, it occurred to me that I’d been standing still for quite a while now, long enough for a group of lads who’d been standing around a car on the other side of the car park to be staring at me like I was crazy. Holt hadn’t said a word, nor had he wound down the window to tell me to hurry up; he was just waiting, letting me make my own decision, and I realised that this was a test. I had no idea how regularly vampires needed to feed, but I was sure that Holt could have waited and done it at another time without me even being aware of it. He’d deliberately left it till now so that I could have a small preview of what I was letting myself in for, and I could change my mind before it was too late. The realisation of that was enough to make me open the door and slide in.

  As we pulled off, I noticed Holt giving me an odd look.

  “What?” I asked as I cracked the window open, aware that the smell of my greasy food would probably linger in his expensive car for weeks.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d get back in.”

  I shrugged. “Some sort of mix of bravery and stupidity, I suppose.” After a pause, I added, “She looked so normal, like nothing had happened.”

  “She isn’t aware that it did,” he replied and then, at my confused look, he continued to explain. “Another gift of vampires is that we have what we call Influence. Once a human makes eye contact with us, we can influence them into doing anything. So when we want to drink from them, we can make them agree to come with us, then afterwards we can convince them that nothing has happened.”

  “You can make them do anything?” I was so horrified that I froze with my burger halfway to my mouth.

  “Yes, but it’s against vampire law to harm anyone more than we need. We even heal the marks on their necks with a drop of our own blood so that there’s no evidence of what happened.”

  Despite the topic, the first bite of my burger made me realise how hungry I was and I halted my questions so that I could pay full attention to filling my stomach. When I’d swallowed the last bite, I stashed the empty bag at my feet.

  “So, if you’d asked her to get in this car with us, she’d have done it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” came Holt’s simple reply.

  “What if you’d told her to walk in front of the next car that drove by?”

  Holt frowned. “Yes, but I ...”

  He was cut off by my gasp, as I suddenly had a thought.

  “Oh my God! Are you using it on me? Is that how you got me to agree to come to Rillith with you?”

  “No.” Holt shook his head and then repeated himself with more emphasis. “No, I’d never do that. It probably doesn’t even work on you.”

  He looked upset at my suggestion but I couldn’t get past it. He’d just told me that vampires could use Influence to make humans do anything. I felt like I’d decided by myself that I wanted to go to Rillith, but what if that was just what he’d told me to believe?

  “Think about it,” Holt said. “If I’d used Influence to make you come, then you wouldn’t be doubting it right now. I’d have made it so that you were happy just to be here and not at all bothered why.”

  “Okay, is that supposed to make me feel better?” I asked.

  “Well yes, it sounds a little sinister but, actually, it’s true.”

  He was right. Surely, if he’d made me come here, then he’d have made it so that I didn’t cause any trouble either? I’d just be sitting here like a dummy, not asking questions and accusing him of kidnapping me.

  “I guess you’re right,” I said out loud so that Holt knew I was calming down. Then, feeling slightly guilty about my accusation, I added, “Sorry. It’s just that this Influence thing is a big deal to get my head around.”

  “I know you still have a lot of questions you want to ask, but if you don’t mind I’d like to ask you some.” Holt looked over at me to gauge my reaction and held his look long enough for me to worry that he wasn’t concentrating on the road.

  “Okay,” I answered.

  “What was it like for you, growing up? When did you first start to notice you were different?”

  I thought it over. “I don’t know when it started because, at first, I didn’t realise I was different. The first time I knew something was wrong was when I was a child and I lifted one end of the sofa up right over my head to see if my book was underneath it. Mary saw me do it and totally flipped. I’d been left on her doorstep as a baby and she’d always told me that it was God’s way of making sure I was given a proper Christian upbringing, like children should have. After that incident, though, she told me I had evil rooted deep inside me and I’d clearly been left on her doorstep so that she could help me live my life as I should, in the hope that enough good behaviour and praying would make God remove the sin from my soul.”

  Holt had a look of disgust on his face. “Typical of a human to see something they don’t understand and automatically class it as evil.” I was surprised by his reaction. It was the first time I’d heard him refer to humans so negatively. “But she treated you well?”

  “I can’t complain. She was very strict and religious which was fine with me but, after that day with the sofa, everything changed. She was scared of me and any love she’d had for me disappeared and was replaced with a sense of duty.”

  I stopped short, catching myself before the next sentence fell out my mouth. After Holt’s previous reaction, I didn’t think it was a good idea to mention that Mary had made me pray twice a day, asking to be absolved of sin so that when I died I wouldn’t go to hell. I changed direction.

  “The strength was the first trait I became aware of and, after that, I started to notice other differences as well. I understood that the other kids in the playground weren’t running at that speed because it was the speed they liked to run at; it was the fastest that they could run! So I made sure I slowed up and fitted in with everyone else. Luckily my speed hadn’t developed enough by then to have caused any unwanted attention. Other little incidents made me realise that my sight, sense of smell and hearing were also different so I never commented on anything like alarms going off or strange smells unless somebody else had noticed them first.”

  “How about the effect you have on people? I told you about Influence earlier, have you ever found that you are good at persuading people to do what you want?”

  I didn’t need to think that one over. “No, I’ve never had anything like that. Shame, it would have been handy at times.”

  “Is there anything else? Any particular way that people react to you?”

  I didn’t need to think that one over either. There was a very specific way that men reacted to me, but this topic of conversation would make me feel uncomfortable. I decided the best way to get out of this would be with a partial response that would answer his question just enough so that he’d move on.

  “Yes. Not long after my fifteenth birthday, men started
to notice me, and not in a subtle, appreciative kind of way. It was something different, more powerful.” I tried to look casual, like this topic was fine with me; I knew that one slip-up would make him dig deeper and I just couldn’t do that.

  Holt nodded knowingly. “But you were always okay? You could handle it okay?”

  If I hadn’t been so busy wrestling with my discomfort, I might have noticed the tension behind his questions, like the answers really mattered to him.

  “Yes, most of the time. I soon learnt to ignore it and, if that didn’t work, a few harsh words usually did.”

  Except for that one time, the one time I’d let my guard down and almost paid the price for it. My mind dragged up the memory before I could stop it.

  It always seemed to come back in flashes, silent except for a high-pitched keening. I’d always suspected the noise had been the sound of fear – the complete and utter fear of a fifteen year-old who’d gone into a state of shock. The flashes were always the same. Me walking into his office with my coursework in my hand, spinning as I heard the click of the lock, him throwing himself on me with such ferocity that I fell backwards with him on top of me, terror taking over as his mouth moved over my face and neck, his hands rushing over me, grabbing hard enough to leave bruises, one of his hands slipping beneath my top and trying to pull my bra down, that moment, that horrible, sickening moment when he’d touched my bare breast had been a brick shattering my terror like a mirror. I’d pulled my arms out from where they’d been pinned by my sides, hard enough for the rough carpet to rip the skin from my elbows. I’d shoved him off me and run from the room, not stopping until I’d left the school and found a quiet place where I’d collapsed. I’d stayed there for hours, shaking and sobbing and trying to decide what to do. I’d finally come to the conclusion that I couldn’t tell anyone. Mary wouldn’t be sympathetic and the thought of telling anyone else was simply mortifying. The teacher who’d attacked me was well-loved in the school and the village; I was not. I felt sure that, if it came down to his word against mine, I’d probably lose and would ever after be known as the girl who cried “attempted rape”.