Читать книгу Dinner with a Vampire - Abigail Gibbs, Abigail Gibbs - Страница 9

‘Violet! Wake the hell up!’ Fabian said, bending over her limp body and slapping her cheek. He raised his hand to hit her again when her eyes flew open, water spewing from her mouth. I caught sight of the fleshy roof of her mouth and her teeth, fangless. Fabian sprung back, yanking his hand away. But I stepped forward, finishing the job for him. My hand came into contact with her skin with a satisfying crack and her cheek became a bloody red.

Fabian turned to me, his eyes becoming black. Kaspar, he growled in my mind.

I shrugged, pushing my dripping fringe from my forehead. ‘Just making sure,’ I replied, aloud. Her dress had become sheer and my eyes roamed over her body, wondering what I had done to have such a good specimen cross my path. Fabian pulled his jacket off and slung it around her shoulders as she sat up, his consciousness lingering around the edge of mine.

But she didn’t miss my gaze either. ‘Oh, Kaspar, my hero,’ she said between gasps of air, her voice thick with sarcasm.

‘And yes, you are the damsel in distress,’ I answered, equally sarcastic, pulling my soaking T-shirt up and over my head.

‘That’s all the thanks you’re getting, so I suggest you take it,’ she muttered, clearly thinking I wouldn’t notice her stealing a glance at my chest. I ignored her, shouting to Cain and the others to start heading back. Two of us should be able to handle a half-drowned human girl, even if she was a little feisty.

Fabian offered her a hand and she got to her feet, only to drop again, her eyes – such an unusual colour for a human – becoming unfocused. Fabian caught her and I stepped forward, sighing, resigned to the fact I would have to carry her. Her eyes slid back into focus and back out again as she squirmed and buried herself deeper in Fabian’s arms.

‘You take her,’ I said to him, figuring she would be less likely to kick up a fuss. He whispered a few words in her ear and picked her up. Sure enough, she was good as gold. I raised an eyebrow at him and he winked, his hand wrapping around the back of her bare knee. I turned away, stepping into the shadow of the trees.

Behind, I heard her question him about the squid. His reply was vague as he glossed over the details of where it had come from and who had given it to us.

Around us, the mist was lifting and the main grounds came back into view. I extended my mind, curious, and touched upon hers. Right away I was hit with a barrage of emotions, the first being fear and the second anger. Images of the water and her phobia of swimming blurred with those of Trafalgar Square, which floated again and again to the forefront of her mind like a stuck record player. Snapshots of her friends and family passed through too and one of an ageing man in his fifties caught my attention. I focused on it and then recoiled from her mind like I had been slapped.

I stopped and whipped around. ‘Girly, what is your surname?’

‘Lee,’ she said. ‘I already told—’

‘Who is your father?’ I demanded.

‘He’s a very powerful man,’ she retorted.

‘Quit with the damsel stuff, it really doesn’t suit you,’ I growled. ‘And besides, I would bet my inheritance that my daddy could beat the crap out of your daddy. But what is his name? What does he do?’

She raised her chin, triumphant. ‘Michael Lee and he is the Secretary of State for Defence.’

I exchanged a glance with Fabian who looked as though he might drop her.

‘Shit,’ I said.

‘You’ve done it this time, Kaspar,’ Fabian groaned in my direction, his eyes changing to become colourless, matching my own and betraying his worry. The girl stared openly; as soon as I met her gaze she looked away and I was glad that despite her sharp tongue, I retained power over her. ‘The King won’t like this,’ he added.

No, of course he won’t. Neither will the council. I said nothing and surged back towards the mansion, Fabian following at a slight distance as he fussed over her, adjusting her body in his arms so he wouldn’t hurt her.

The run allowed time for panic to set in. I was already on thin ground with the council, where a no-confidence vote against my position as heir was only ever a misdemeanour away. Bringing the daughter of a man so high up in government into our world, therefore breaching multiple treaties, was definitely in the sin category.

Why didn’t I just kill her?

When Fabian caught up I immediately grabbed her wrist and dragged her up the steps. She winced and trod lightly, and I briefly took in her battered feet. With a resigned sigh, I tugged harder.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, digging her heels in despite the obvious discomfort.

‘Getting out of this mess,’ I responded, relieved to see my sister, Lyla, waiting at the bottom of the staircase inside.

‘Do you think you could get out of this without slicing my wrist up?’

My stride was shorter than usual as I faltered slightly, struck by a sudden admiration at the ease with which she accepted our existence, mixed with irritation at her boldness. This girl just does not give up.

Lyla – more irritating than any sopping wet human girl could ever be – worked her features into a scowl, which was particularly effective on her usually doll-like face. She took Violet’s wrist without a word to her, instead focusing on me.

‘You really screwed up this time, little brother,’ she growled. Violet stared up at the other woman – who was almost a head taller and considerably slimmer – with utter awe. Lyla ignored it. She knew the effect she had on both sexes. Have fun with your fucking human war, she finished in my mind, sweeping upstairs with Michael Lee’s daughter in tow.

I wasn’t concerned about any war. I was highly unlikely to survive to see it, with the King’s wrath progressing across the entrance hall.

Fabian dropped to his knees in a very low bow, screwing his eyes shut and crossing his fingers at his sides. ‘Your Majesty.’

I straightened and clasped my hands behind my back, looking at anything but the hollow grey eyes piercing me. Pleading ignorance of her namesake wasn’t going to work, and so I accepted the brewing storm with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. ‘Good morning, father. I brought breakfast.’