Dinner with a Vampire. Abigail Gibbs

I didn’t know why I had saved her – why I had done it personally, and not let Fabian, always the nice guy, play saviour.

      No, it wouldn’t have been easier to kill her, I thought, continuing on from Felix’s earlier statement. Because I suspect this particular human would have weighed on my conscience.

      EIGHT

       Violet

      I didn’t know where my legs were taking me. I lost myself in the maze of corridors, my awe increasing with every turn. It wasn’t a welcoming place – there were few windows and most of the light came from gas lamps fashioned to look like torches or the occasional spotlight, which would highlight an alcove containing an expensive-looking painting or vase – but it was certainly grand. There was wood panelling everywhere and the floor was so clean I could see an outline of my reflection on the polish. It was cold too and if I lingered for too long on one spot, it felt as though I was standing on a pile of snow in only my socks. The few windows I did come across I fiddled with, trying to open them, but every single one was locked or too stiff to lift; the one I did manage to open was several floors up and positioned on a completely smooth wall, high enough to rule out jumping.

      I found another set of stairs and climbed them. The upper floors seemed to be deserted, adding to the eeriness. I found empty room after empty room and there were only a handful of windows on the whole floor, it seemed – but from those few I could just about see over the tree-tops to the sea, a thin blue strip sandwiched between the green of the trees and the silvery lining of the sky.

      Suddenly, the wood panelling ended and I found myself in a whitewashed corridor, lit with bright, artificial light – a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion.

      ‘Excuse me, miss, but are you okay?’ I jerked my head up, startled at the new voice. ‘Sorry, miss, didn’t mean to scare you,’ the voice said, thick with a cockney accent. It came from a young girl, not much older than I was by the looks of her. She was dressed in a plain black dress and a maid’s cap. Her face was round and plump, her mousy-blonde hair framing rosy cheeks. She would be quite stunning, if it was not for the lines of hard work that adorned her face.

      ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine,’ I replied, trying to smile and failing.

      ‘You must be the human the Varns took from London. Violet, isn’t it?’ I nodded. ‘I’m Annie,’ she said, smiling, revealing two small fangs.

      I eyed them, my eyes sliding down to her dress. ‘Do you work here?’

      ‘I’m one of the servants,’ she replied. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she added.

      I shrugged. ‘Lost, I guess.’

      ‘Well, I can help with that.’ She smiled and picked up the bucket and mop beside her feet. ‘Take the servant’s stairs. They are at the end of here.’ She pointed in the opposite direction from where I had come. ‘Go three floors down and follow the main corridor and it will bring you to the entrance hall.’ With one last smile, she hurried off before I could even thank her.

      Sure enough, at the end of the corridor there were a set of narrow spiralling steps, which twisted around and around a column until they opened out into a wide hallway, which in turn had smaller passages branching from it.

      I stopped, staring down its length. The emptiness of the place left me feeling very alone and very vulnerable, as the scale of the situation hit me again. At the end of the corridor, blending with the darkness, I could see a man crumpling to the ground, rubbing his neck and scrambling away from me.

      I shook my head, smacking my palm against the panelled wall.

      ‘Shit,’ I breathed, as I realized a tiny trickle of blood was flowing from my raw knuckle. I quickly wiped it away, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.

      ‘Father says you shouldn’t swear. It’s unladylike,’ said a quiet voice from below me. I looked down to see a little girl with the widest, most emerald-green eyes. Her long blonde hair fell in tight ringlets around her face and she had perfect features, right down to her button nose. She looked to be about four.

      ‘Who are you?’ I asked, taking a couple of steps back.

      ‘I am Princess Thyme,’ she sung, twirling around, making her pink frilly dress whip around after her. She smiled, revealing two pinpricks for fangs. A kid vampire. ‘And you are Violet, and Kaspar brought you from London.’ It was a statement, not a question. I said nothing, astounded at the sureness she had of her words.

      After a minute, I recovered my voice. ‘You’re Kaspar’s little sister?’ I asked, bending down to her level.

      ‘And Cain’s and Lyla’s and Jag’s and Sky’s,’ she chimed, doing another pirouette.

      ‘Who are Jag and Sky?’

      ‘They are my big, big brothers. They are really old,’ she stated with pride. ‘I like them better because they are fun when they come and visit from Romania.’ She pouted, looking down at the ground. ‘All the others are mean when I ask to play games.’ Her bottom lip quivered and I panicked at her complete change of mood.

      ‘Hey, don’t get upset.’

      Her little eyes filled with hope, and she looked up at me. ‘You’ll play a game with me, won’t you?’ She tightened her grip around my hand. ‘Will you carry me?’ She didn’t wait for me to answer, but took a few steps back and made a running leap – I only just caught her in my arms. Realizing I didn’t have much choice, I complied and followed her directions down the corridor.

      ‘Do you have a sister?’ Thyme asked, twiddling with my hair.

      ‘I have a little sister,’ I answered. ‘She’s thirteen.’

      ‘What’s her name?’ she asked with vague interest, more preoccupied with my hair.

      ‘Lily,’ I answered.

      ‘That’s a pretty name. Do you have a brother?’ she carried on.

      ‘I did. But he died,’ I mumbled.

      ‘That’s sad,’ she replied.

      ‘Yeah, it is,’ I breathed.

      ‘Do you have a mummy and daddy?’ I turned my head and saw her cute little face twisted with something I couldn’t read and she tugged a strand of my hair, making me wince.

      ‘Yes, I do.’ I stopped myself, wondering why I was volunteering so much to a little girl. My eyes misted over and a sick feeling clutched at my throat. Homesickness. ‘What about you? Do you have a mummy?’

      ‘Mummy can’t be here at the moment,’ she said with a blunt tone far beyond her years. ‘My daddy is always too busy to play with me. He is always in a bad mood.’

      We fell into silence for a while. She started playing with my hair again, twisting it around her finger.

      ‘You’re really pretty.’

      ‘Thanks,’ I said, unsure how to take the compliment. ‘You’re really cute,’ I replied.

      ‘I know.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I wish I had a sister like you. You are nicer than Lyla and much nicer than those horrible girls Kaspar keeps bringing home,’ she muttered darkly, again sounding far older than she must be.

      ‘Girls?’ I asked, trying not to seem too interested.

      ‘His friends. But they always stay for the night and they are really mean to me,’ she blabbered.

      It didn’t take much brainpower to work out what these ‘friends’ were here for. Again, she seemed content to play with my hair until I felt a cold breeze on the back of my neck and I almost dropped her.

      ‘What the heck are you doing?’ I screeched as she ran her teeth up and down my neck. She pulled away, giving me a