“Charles is the vamp that was found drained at Harry’s party wasn’t he? Surely if he killed his beloved sister, Edward would be the obvious suspect.”
George gave a sinister laugh. “Oh don’t think you’re the first to have come up with that theory. It’s not being entirely ruled out, nothing is, but it doesn’t seem very likely on closer examination. First of all Crispin insists that Edward was with him all night, and although he’s a scheming bastard, his story rings true. More than that though, it just wouldn’t make any sense. Edward and Charles generally got on well. As you’ve seen, Edward is completely integrated into the Cavaliers. During the election he’s been surrounded by us constantly and never once has he seemed suspicious.”
“He strikes me as someone who’d be a good actor though,” Harriet said thoughtfully. “Plus this was his sister we’re talking about. I don’t have any real siblings, but if someone hurt one of my cousins, I think I’d be capable of doing anything to them. My cousin Stephanie died last year and I’m convinced it’s because someone spiked her drink. If I could find whoever did it I’d happily drain their blood.”
George gave her a look that she didn’t quite understand. “Well that’s useful to know. I hope her death didn’t hit you too hard. As for Edward though, whilst he loved his twin sister, this was before the change. Afterwards, especially for the first few years, human emotions tend to fade and family ties break. I’m sure he’d rather Alice was still alive, but once he was turned Charles was more a member of his family than she was, and he realised this.”
They’d reached the college by this time. When Harriet opened the late gate, George followed her through it.
“Damn it, I never should have invited you in,” she said, half teasing him, half concerned.
“I’ve been invited into your staircase as well, remember, but never into your room more’s the pity. I doubt that’s going to change tonight, but let me at least escort you to your door.”
Harriet grudgingly agreed. She’d woken up during the walk back, but safe within college walls, the tiredness was hitting her again. She resolved to stay on her guard and be ready for any tricks that George might try. He seemed perfectly civil as he opened the big wooden door to her staircase and helped her up the steep stone stairs. She noticed with relief that the lights were still off in Tom’s room. She didn’t want him to see her walking in with George, however innocently.
Outside the door to her room, George gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I don’t suppose you would consider letting me in?” he asked longingly.
“Absolutely not. Don’t you dare try to mesmerise me into doing that.”
“Interestingly, that’s one thing we can’t ever do with mind control. Our gifts are our weapons; humans’ ability to refuse us entry is their shield. It wouldn’t do for the one to entirely cancel out the other.”
He kissed her other cheek, slightly harder this time, and she hurried through her door before things got out of control.
“Well, if that’s how you want to play it, I’ll wish you good night. God you’re wasted on Tom though.”
He walked away, but as he was descending the stairs, he turned and shouted back to her. “One more thing. You saw tonight how much the Cavaliers dislike failure. If you don’t want Ben to be treated in the same way as Harry, I suggest you urge him to make sure his boat ends up Head of the River.”
***
Harriet woke up that afternoon, still flushed with success. In the daylight, the confusing and unpleasant aspects of the night before seemed like a bad dream. Her victory was all she could really think about, although between George’s warning and her own desire to support her friends and college she’d hoped to make it to the rowing. However, looking at the time she suspected she’d missed the first division races. Just then, Caroline bounded in, as usual without knocking. A rather calmer Olamide followed her in.
“Well done on the election,” they said in unison, before both hugging her.
Caroline had brought a bottle of champagne, which she brandished at Harriet before depositing it in the fridge.
“Have you eaten yet?” Ola asked with some concern. “From the way you’re still wearing pyjamas I’m guessing not. Shall I grab you a sandwich whilst that chills?”
“You’re amazing, both of you. Thanks for the bubbly; I’ll get that open in a second. Ola, if you do want a trip to the sandwich shop a bacon and brie baguette would be great. Don’t rush though, sit and have a chat first.”
Whilst they settled themselves down, Harriet went next door to fetch Josh and tell him the good news. He hugged her too.
“See, I told you not to worry,” he said. “Now, the question is, are you going to go for Standing Committee next term?”
Harriet hadn’t decided yet. The election had made for one of the most stressful and one of the most exciting weeks of her life. She wasn’t sure she wanted to put herself through those highs and lows again, but could hardly resist doing so. Catherine was probably going to be running for President, she ought to speak to her.
The girls explained that they’d come from the river, where Ben’s boat had finally managed to bump Oriel. They’d be starting Saturday, the final day, in first position. To win Torpids all they’d have to do tomorrow was make it to the end of the course without getting bumped in turn. That was easier said than done, but Caroline seemed confident of the chances of Ben and the rest of the team.
“So where’s Ben now?” Harriet asked, as Olamide returned with sandwiches.
“Oh he’ll be over asap. He needed to put the boat away, take a shower, chat to the guys, all that kind of stuff, but he’s looking forward to congratulating you.”
Harriet cracked open the champagne and they were well into the food and drink by the time Ben arrived. He knocked quietly. Caroline rushed to great him. Between his victory and Harriet’s success they were all expecting to find him cheerful and over excitable, but instead he seemed wretched.
“What on earth’s wrong?” Caroline asked.
Ben sat down and poured himself a drink. He was meant to be off alcohol for the duration of Torpids, but looked as though he needed it. “It’s Harry Fitzrovia. His scout found him this morning. He’d hung himself.”
Everyone was horrified. Harriet felt sick thinking of how he’d looked when the election results were announced. She hadn’t thought of him as being suicidal, but the Cavaliers’ rejection must have been the last straw. She wished she’d managed to get to him before the vampires had. Would it have helped if she’d said something about how student politics and societies didn’t really count for anything? How he was rich and intelligent and if not exactly her type, then objectively quite attractive? How he had his whole life ahead of him and everything to live for? If he was so far gone, probably not, but she still wished she’d tried.
“I can’t believe that,” Caroline said, shocked. “Sure, he must have been upset about the election results but he strikes me as the type more likely to kill his opponent than himself.”
“You never know what’s going on inside someone’s head,” Olamide said.
Harriet nodded, but the more she thought about it, the more she found herself agreeing with Caroline. Harry hadn’t been unhappy when he’d stormed off, he’d been furious. She remembered George’s words about Edward’s sister. A vampire had killed her and they’d made it look like a crash. Could they have made it look like a hanging this time?
The news subdued all of them, and one by one, Harriet’s friends left her room. Harriet tried to interest herself in a book about Renaissance Popes but couldn’t get her mind off Harry. She was desperate for it to grow dark so she could find Tom and voice her suspicions. The weather had been better over the last few weeks and she had been relishing the beginning of spring, but now the fact that it was staying lighter later infuriated her.
She ate dinner in hall sullenly. Several people came over to offer their congratulations and it took all her self-control to give polite answers.
Returning to their staircase she found Tom’s door locked but she knocked loudly and after a moment Tom opened the door. From his unusually dazed appearance, she assumed he had only just got up.
“Hey you,” he said, going in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you. I’m sorry I had to rush off last night, but now we’ve got time to celebrate properly.”
He picked her up and carried her to his bed. For a moment Harriet, forgetting why she’d come, giggled and clung to him. Tom pinned her to the bed with his inhumanly strong arms and began to kiss her all over.
“No, Tom, not now. I need to ask you something,” she managed to get out between gasps.
Tom gave her one more kiss then released her and sat up, looking puzzled. All Harriet wanted to do was lie there and luxuriate, but she forced herself to her feet.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to play?” Tom asked, sounding almost hurt. “We can go for a drink or something if you’d prefer.”
“Harry Fitzrovia is dead,” Harriet said. “He appears to have hung himself. I say that’s an overreaction to losing an election and even to losing a Cavalier place. What did you and the rest of them do to him?”
Tom looked at her sadly. “I’d have preferred that you didn’t have to know about the unpleasant side of the Cavaliers.”
“I need to know Tom. I’m sick of lies and evasions and half-truths from all of you.”
“Fine. In that case, yes, he was killed. Not by me, by Rupert, but like everyone else I had to give my judgement and I had to watch.”
Harriet sat back down on the bed before she fell down. All day she’d suspected that something along these lines had happened, but having it calmly confirmed by her boyfriend was almost more than she could deal with.
“But why? What had he done to make you all so angry?”
“It’s quite simple. When he lost his election, he failed. The Cavaliers want the best of the best. We don’t accept failure in any arena. As you know, we start with fifteen potential candidates and only ten make it to the summer party. Over the year, as they let us down, the remainder are drained by the Senior Members.”
Harriet wanted to rail against the unfairness and the horror of this. She wanted to ask why they couldn’t just reject candidates instead of killing them. But she knew that however much she tried to relate to them, the Cavaliers weren’t human and they didn’t play by human rules.
“So behind all the glitz and glamour and tradition you’re all still monsters,” she said finally, almost chocking the words out.
“In the top ranks they do what has to be done,” Tom said, reaching out to her. “For most vampires however, whilst they’ll feed most days, the only time they kill is on the day they’re turned, in order to complete the transformation. For those changed by the Cavaliers, that means their guest at the summer party.”
Harriet tightened her grip on his arm, her horror making her hysterical. “Oh this whole vampire thing had been presented as absolutely lovely. A lot of charm, a bit of hypnosis and anyone will give you just enough blood to sustain you. No one mentioned killing innocent people and new recruits draining their dates’ blood.”
Tom took her hands, and in her panic she didn’t resist. “It’s regrettable, but it’s how the magic works. The blood of a new vampire’s maker brings them back from the dead, but until they drain a human they are powerless, stuck between life and death.”
Harriet tightened her grip on him. “So you’re saying that you basically approve of this? And that you’ve drained and killed someone yourself, back in the day?”
His voice was shaking slightly but he looked her in the eyes as he replied. “Yes I did. All of us have. I did what I had to do live, the same way people always do. I wouldn’t say I approve of it as such, but I condone it and I’m not racked with guilt. I should have told you. I know how much you hate being kept in the dark about things. It was just that I knew you’d react like this.”
“You knew I’d react like this.” Harriet was actually laughing. “It’s called having human feelings Tom. Of course I’m not going to be cool with murder.”
She thought about all the vampires she now knew. All of them had killed at least one person in return for their endless life and youth. If the leaders killed all the unsuccessful candidates each year then God only knew had many people George must have killed over the centuries. Suddenly her thoughts drifted to her mother. It was almost impossible to believe, but if vampires had no power until they’d drained someone, she must have done it too. Harriet felt sick.
“So who was it you killed?” she said after a seemingly endless silence. She didn’t really want to know but had to ask.
“A daughter of another big family in the county,” Tom said blankly. “We’d played together as children and attended the same dances later on. My parents and hers were hoping to marry us off. I wouldn’t have ruled it out but I wasn’t really interested, and I was born just about late enough to get my own say in that sort of matter. I couldn’t think who else to invite as my guest though, and I thought she’d be pretty and well bred enough to impress the committee. In those days our summer party was considered as a must do part of the debutante season.
“A lot of the girls still had a chaperone, but they were hypnotised almost from the start. The girls were very pleased when they mysteriously turned a blind eye to their drinking and dancing. I hardly remember killing her. When you first wake up nothing makes any sense. You’re empty of all blood. The urge to drink someone else’s is like the urge a drowning man feels to breathe air. Some of the men took a little coaxing, but I have to admit I had my teeth in Cecilia’s neck in thirty seconds flat. I felt better once it was over. Calmer, able to think almost normally. I never felt particularly guilty but I never felt the urge to kill again either.”
Harriet forced herself back to her feet. “I’m leaving. I don’t want to hear this.”
“Harriet wait, please. I know this is hard for you to hear. I know I did something wrong. But I’m not a monster I swear.”
Harriet thought hard. “If you’re really not a monster then you’ll help me stop it happening this year.”
She saw a flicker of hope in Tom’s eyes, but his voice sounded defeated. “I’d have no objection to that, but it’s not possible. I’m relatively weak; you’re human. What could we do against the entire rest of the committee and four hundred years of history?”
“If you want to stay with me, you need to make amends. If you want to do that, then you’ll find a way. I need some time alone. Come and find me when you’ve decided whose side you’re on.”
Before she could lose her resolve, Harriet rushed out of the room and climbed the stairs back to her own. For hours, she sat alone at her desk, browsing the internet and trying not to cry.
Just as she was about to go to bed, there was a knock on the door. She opened it and let Tom in. He gave the silk and lace nightgown that she was wearing a hungry look, but managed to stay business like.
“I’ve already risked everyone’s wrath to be with you against your mother and Augustine’s wishes,” he said. “I might as well push my luck further. I have no idea how we could stop the summer party, but I’ll work with you and together we’ll do our very best to find a way.”
***
The next day, still racking her brains for a solution, Harriet set out with the others to see the final days’ racing. Ben greeted them cheerfully enough at the boathouse, but his nerves were plain to see.
“It’ll be the first time we’ve been Head of the River in five years,” he explained. “We can absolutely do it. All we’ve got to do is stay ahead of Oriel, and we’re definitely the better team this year. The only trouble is there’s more motivation in chasing a boat than just rowing as fast as possible through an empty expanse of water. Plus I’m scared that we’re complacent and they’re hungry.”
All Harriet could think about was whether or not the Cavaliers would kill Ben if his boat lost. She clenched her fists, willing Ben and the rest of the team to ro
w as hard as they possibly could.
Some people in the college’s boathouse were working on the principle that victory had already been assured, downing Pimm’s and singing. As it was a Saturday and even science students didn’t have to work, the crowd was the biggest it had been all week.
When the race started, Harriet cheered and chanted along with everyone else. As Oriel’s boat drew closer to Lilith’s however, she had to close her eyes. Everyone was taking the race very seriously, but only she knew that it could well be a matter of life or death. She kept them closed until the cheering started again, louder and more enthusiastic tahn before. Caroline grabbed her and screamed with joy.
“Did you miss it? We made it over the line! We’ve won!” She rushed off to find Ben.
Harriet slumped against the edge of the balcony, utterly emotionally drained.
“Phew, that was fun,” Ola said. “Shall we go and congratulate Ben too once Caroline’s finished with him?”
Harriet agreed, and they climbed down the stairs. The path was full of overexcited college members. Caroline had managed to forcibly push through the crowd to reach Ben, but Harriet and the others held back.
“Congratulations!” Harriet said, once they’d finally managed to get near him. She gave him a hug.
“Thanks,” he replied, out of breath but happier than she’d ever seen him before. “I don’t think I’ve ever rowed so fast in my life. Oriel certainly gave us a fight. I feel quite sorry for Joe actually.”
“Who’s Joe?” Harriet asked.
“Oh another Cavalier candidate, he was rowing in their boat. I hope the committee cut him some slack, he couldn’t have rowed much better than he did.”
Harriet pulled Ben aside. “Listen to me,” she whispered. “Find this Joe. Tell him to get on the train to wherever he comes from to go and stay with his parents for a while. Don’t ask me why. Just do it.”
Ben was wide-eyed, but nodded. “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me of all people though. He’s going to be sulking after I beat him.”
Oxford Blood Page 18