Oxford Blood (18 page)

“It looks vampiric to me,” said George thoughtfully, “though
any hunter worth his salt would try and make it look that way.”

“Is he completely drained?” another member inquired.

“He’s got a wound like that and it isn’t bleeding. That
suggests to me that there’s no blood left,” replied Rupert.

“So we’re after someone who’s sufficiently desperate for
power that they’d try to gain it in the most despicable way and who doesn’t
give a damn about the rules and culture of our race,” George mused
theatrically. “Tom, I’m looking at you.”

“So you think that going out with someone you have a thing
for is equal to draining one of our own do you?” Tom asked.

“I think it’s the logical next step for someone who ignores
a blood bond and denies a direct order from our first lady,” George said,
glaring at him.

Harriet hardly dared to speak in such a fraught environment,
but forced herself to jump to Tom’s defence. “Tom’s been upstairs all night,”
she said loyally. “Come on George, you know this, you were speaking to him most
of the time.”

“I was talking to you for the rest of the time,” George said
to Harriet. “I’d say we were sufficiently deep in memories not to have been keeping
tabs on your precious boyfriend.”

“He was with me whilst you were reliving old battles,” said
Rupert. “This is ridiculous. It could have been anyone.”

“We ought to let Augustine know,” Hugh said. He was visibly
upset. “This needs to be handled in an official way.”

Everyone nodded. Once that was agreed, they decided to take
the body out to Christ Church meadow and burn it.

“So vampires don’t just disappear in a cloud of dust when
they die?” Harriet asked Tom.

“The older ones do. They should have died and had their
bodies rot away centuries before, and once they die the spell is broken and
time rushes back into them. But Charles was only turned last year. Vampire or
human he should still be alive.” Tom looked positively sad.

Harriet had barely spoken to the dead vampire. She wondered
whether Tom was genuinely mourning him because he has been a nice guy, or
whether he was just upset by the whole thing.

“So one vampire never usually drinks another’s blood, is
that right?”

“Absolutely. Our laws strictly forbid it, and besides, most
of us find the thought of it hideous anyway, almost like cannibalism. There
have been cases of Cavaliers draining Roundheads and vice versa and there was
apparently plenty of it in the dark ages when the newer vampires tried to get
rid of the older ones, but within the same grouping it’s never done, even to
your worst enemies.”

“So why would someone do it? Especially to Charles, he seems
fairly insignificant. Surely he doesn’t have enemies.”

“Oh, for power, plain and simple. When a vampire drains
another, he takes all of their power on top of his own, and can get some of
their maker’s. Of course, the stronger the vampire you drink from the better,
but it would be practically impossible to keep someone like George or Rupert
down long enough to finish them.”

“Let’s go home,” Harriet said, after a few moments silence.
“You were right; we never should have come tonight.”

“Oh, it’d have been worse if I hadn’t been there. Much
easier to point the finger of blame. Get Ben and Caroline. We shouldn’t leave
them hypnotised in a room with twenty furious vampires who are looking for a
scapegoat.”

Harriet scurried off to pick up her friends. The hypnosis
inflicted on the human guests had worn off, although no one seemed to have any
memory of the dead boy. It was clear however that something was wrong, and the
four of them walked back to college almost in silence.

“Poor Harry,” Tom said, when at last they were alone and
back in his room. “What a party. I think he just scuppered his chances of winning
the Union election or the Cavaliers membership.”

***

A month before the crash, Adelaide had visited Spain with
Sam and baby Harriet. The holiday had been wonderful. Perfect weather, glorious
food, and best of all, proper time together as a family of three. It made a
change from the long days followed by the crazy nights that characterised her
and Sam’s life at Meridian and Lamb. Despite the fact that he was her ultimate
boss, she was disappointed to have heard nothing from Augustine since the night
of the party. Much as she loved Sam, there was hardly a day went by that he
didn’t cross her mind and she barely took his necklace off. Sometimes she
wondered whether she’d imagined everything that had happened.

On the last night in Spain, they had gone to a wonderful
restaurant on the coast. She’d spent a while getting ready, showering after a
day on the beach (perhaps the last time she’d ever really experienced sun),
slathering on a coconut scented aftersun and tropical perfume, delicately
adding a touch of bronzer, mascara and lipstick. Harriet had been asleep and
Sam had come up behind her in the bathroom before she had chance to dress.

“I have the most beautiful wife in the world,” he’d said,
and proceeded to kiss her all over her tanned body.

The trip to the restaurant was therefore a little delayed
but eventually they made it. Their table was on a balcony directly overlooking
the bright blue sea. It was still gloriously warm even as the sun began to go
down. They tucked into Rioja and a plate of freshly caught seafood.

The conversation had begun lightly enough, but after a few
drinks, Sam had grown serious. “Haven’t you enjoyed spending so much time
together?”

She’d intended some light, charming answer to disarm him.

“Haven’t you enjoyed actually seeing Harriet and actually
acting as if you’re her mother? Do you know she cried when I tried to take her
home from my sister’s last week?”

Adelaide had tried to answer but for once hadn’t been able
to find the words.

“She’s going to end up thinking Kate’s her mother if this
carries on.”

This time she managed to speak, “Look at her gorgeous face.
Her bright green eyes. She could never mistake your fat, plain, dull sister for
her mother. She’d never choose her over me.”

Sam gave her an angry glance – he never liked her to be
bitchy about people, especially his family, but she’d never been able to help
herself. “I’m as harsh about my own family,” she always said to defend herself.
“The only worthwhile one is Steph. She’s one of the sweetest babies I’ve ever
seen.”

“I think we should both quit. Seriously. I’m not saying you
should be some 1950s housewife. Let’s just both try to get more sensible jobs.”

“Maybe,” she’d said, feeling worn down by the comments about
Harriet. She looked at the sleeping baby. She’d always felt disdain for most
people and had a feeling of superiority that she knew was unacceptable but just
couldn’t avoid. Whenever she looked at her little girl however, she understood
what it meant to care more about someone else than about herself. “Let’s give
it a few more months after we get back, see how we feel.”

A couple of weeks later, the things Sam had said during the
holiday were playing on Adelaide’s mind. As she danced and drank and chatted in
the glamorous King’s Road nightclub, she became more and more aware of the fact
that once again she’d left Harriet in the care of Kate. It amazed her that her
sister in law apparently had no wish to go out on a Friday night, not even to a
local pub.

As the night wore on, the idea that she wanted to see Harriet
became all-consuming. I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she shouted to
Sam over the music. “I want to try and be a proper mother. Just once I want a
nice quiet weekend, taking her to feed ducks or something, not hanging around
in over priced clubs.”

Sam had been overjoyed at her words and nodded
enthusiastically. “Sounds perfect. We’ll head home soon and get up early
tomorrow to drive north.”

Adelaide had given him a stern look. That was typical of her
husband. Take the easy, conventional route. Take your time; don’t rush.
“Darling, I want to head back tonight.”

“It’s after midnight,” he’d replied reasonably, but it
hadn’t taken her long to make him agree.

She’d barely drank anything all night so it had seemed
perfectly safe to jump in the Porsche and head up the M1. Maybe she’d driven
slightly too fast in her haste to see her daughter, maybe she’d just not been
paying attention, but just north of Birmingham the car had spun off the road.

She must have passed out. When she’d become conscious again it
had taken her a few minutes to understand what was going on. The car was upside
down, her head resting near the floor. All she could feel was pain. It was
difficult to keep her eyes open, but when she forced herself to look, she could
see that there was blood everywhere. Sam was slumped in his seat in an even
worse state than she was.

Outside, everything was very dark. Adelaide had always
believed in being strong in a crisis, believed that there was nothing that she
couldn’t deal with. She tried to force herself to stay conscious, to think of a
way to get help. She knew that their carphone was somewhere in the vehicle, but
she couldn’t see it and there seemed a good chance that it hadn’t survived the
crash.

A wave of nausea overcame her. Suddenly it hit her that
unless help came soon, there was a very good chance that they were both going
to die. She tried to shout out, but couldn’t form words. She tried to rouse
Sam, to no avail. Defeated, she closed her eyes and allowed her body the
unconsciousness it so desperately wanted.

She was shook back awake by a feeling of movement. At first,
she thought she was hallucinating, but no. The car was picked up, turned over
and placed back down. Next, the roof was ripped off, and she was lifted
smoothly out of her seat. She lifted her head (which she was suddenly able to
do without much pain) and looked into Augustine’s eyes.

“I’m using my power to keep you awake and pain free for five
minutes so that we can talk,” he said levelly. “But try not to move. Most of
the bones in your body are broken.”

Adelaide could feel something akin to an electrical current
vibrating around her body. It was much easier to speak and to think than had
been the case before. She was determined not to fall back into that hopeless
state.

“What happened?” she asked, trying to sound dignified rather
than hysterical.

Augustine didn’t answer. “I’ve called 999 of course, but I
have a greater experience of death than most people, and in my expert opinion
it’s already too late. Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?”

“Of course,” Adelaide replied. The words were engraved on
her memory. “You said I reminded you of your wife, the first person you
killed.”

Augustine actually flinched slightly at the second part, but
he quickly regained his composure and continued. “I’ve had you watched at
Meridian and Lamb. You behave just like her. I’ve had the most psychic vampires
I know focus on you. I have no more doubts. You are Antonia. Maybe the gods
believe I’ve finally been punished enough. ”

Adelaide saw that he was offering her an escape route. “Save
me then,” she’d said firmly.

“Through organisations such as the Cavaliers I’ve overseen
the changing of hundreds of people, but in over 2000 years, I’ve never changed
someone myself. Even from the beginning, I was too powerful; I didn’t want
others to have a share in it, to potentially challenge me.”

He paused and examined her broken, blood-covered body. “But
I suppose that when fate gives me another chance, I can make an exception.”

With that, he’d bitten into her broken neck and drunk with a
wild fervour. Without breaking contact, he’d taken a knife from his pocket and
sliced into his neck. “So much more personal than the wrist I feel,” he’d
murmured.

She drank hungrily, clinging onto her last hope of survival.
As she began to relax she’d experienced a happiness unlike anything she’d ever
felt before.

He’d let her drink a lot of his blood, more than was usual
to effect a transformation. After a few minutes though, he’d lifted her head so
she couldn’t drink anymore, and proceeded to drain her. She’d slipped from her
human life with a smile on her face, hands clinging to her saviour.

The next thing Adelaide knew, she was coming back to life in
an ambulance, tearing down the motorway. She was in a body bag, but that rather
grim fact didn’t faze her. She ripped through the tough fabric and jumped to
her feet. Augustine was sitting there, watching her. Sam was hooked up to some
kind of life support system.

Augustine had beckoned her over to him. He’d taken hold of
her and kissed her hard. She’d made no move to resist.

“There is one last thing you need to do to complete the
transformation,” he said.

She’d looked questioningly at him.

“My dear, you’ve attended our summer parties. You know the
procedure.”

She remembered Jamie bearing down on her with orders to
drink to the death and shuddered. Augustine pointed silently to her comatose
husband. She’d hesitated for only a moment, and then the new part of her life
had really begun.

Chapter Ten

I
t
was the last day of term and Harriet felt exhausted. In the afternoon her aunt
and uncle would be arriving to pick her up and take her home. She didn’t want
to leave her new friends and Tom and all the excitement of Oxford for five
whole weeks, but it would be fantastic to see her family again and to get some
space from all the chaos.

All the rooms had to be entirely emptied to allow the new
interviewees to stay, so she hurriedly packed up all her possessions, trying to
focus on the task at hand and not think about everything that had happened.
They’d be leaving before nightfall, so she wouldn’t have the chance to say a
further farewell to Tom.