Chapter 3
Will | London, present day
Hate and desire. When one is left to stew in those warring emotions for over four centuries, it can make a man’s psyche a little ... twisted.
As soon as I step out of Shakespeare’s Globe into the bright cold afternoon, I sense her over there by the rubbish bin: Hester Everill, my nemesis. A quick eye swivel behind my sunglasses confirms it, though I pretend I’m looking at the clear blue sky.
‘Will!’
Fuck. I’ve been trying to avoid Camilla St Clair all day. She’s right in front of me now, looking distressed, and I know why. But what does she expect me to do about it?
She launches into a tearful tirade about not getting the part and how ridiculous that is. I try to remain impartial, knowing Hester’s listening, but can’t resist a few digs at Camilla to amuse her. Then wonder why I’m bothering. I don’t particularly care if Hester thinks I’m funny.
Camilla is still wittering on. She really is insufferable. Little does she know I was lurking in the upper balcony, watching the auditions, and she was an atrocious Viola. Her approach was all wrong. Too affected and screechy.
Hester standing there saying nothing was better than her, even though it was a train wreck of an audition. But I’m glad she compelled the casting director and the producer to give her the part—I need her close to me ...
‘Who is Hester Everill anyway?’ sniffs Camilla. ‘I mean, what’s she even acted in? Nothing! She’s a nobody.’
Hah, here’s my chance! OK, I may go overboard by telling Camilla not to be a ‘bitch’.
But I want to get even further into Hester’s good graces.
It’s been difficult to compliment her in class, though I know she craves my approval.
But it would be weird if I started waxing lyrical about how talented she is since she flits around the edges and manages to get out of any actual acting by compelling people to ignore her.
But I’ve seen how dedicated she is and how she absorbs everything like a sponge.
She’s probably been practising her undead heart out for this role and knows it backwards; she always was an overachiever.
Despite my dark motivations towards her, Hester is actually a talented actor.
But she suffers from a lack of confidence as a result of a heckling incident that occurred on Drury Lane in 1752.
It was unfortunate. I had arrived late to the performance of The Fine Lady’s Lesson—a moral comedy about vanity and reform—but even as I stepped through the door of the theatre, I sensed that the crowd was in a particularly unruly mood.
Hester’s acting was fine—wonderful, in fact (I was a grudging admirer from a seat in the back).
But the audience turned on her halfway through and showed no mercy.
After being heckled loudly by a large group of ingrates at the front, she had a hissy fit at them, telling them to ‘shut their gobs’, which didn’t help matters.
They pelted her with oranges (some of which she caught and hurled back, which I thought was funny).
But then the whole theatre started booing, and it got too much; she gathered up her skirts and scurried off the stage to an eruption of mean laughter.
Even I had a modicum of sympathy for her then, but I quickly squashed that by telling myself that she deserved it.
And she got her revenge in the back alley later that night anyway.
It was a decent massacre. She showed those men the same amount of mercy they’d given her.
None. I supped eagerly from their remains after she’d gone.
I lick my lips, a spike of bloodlust thrumming from remembering that long-ago eighteenth-century feast. My eyes shift to Camilla’s neck. It’s right there: white, soft, and warm. I could just ... Shit. My fangs are extending!
I stride away quickly, without so much as a goodbye, leaving Camilla gaping open-mouthed at my rudeness.
But it can’t be helped. It’s either waste time on fake pleasantries or tearing open her throat in broad daylight on South Bank.
Then I’d really have blown my cover in front of Hester.
And I’ve stalked her too patiently, for too many years, to do that.
No, I need to play it cool so I can finally exact my own revenge feast. Or as I call it, KFC: kiss fang chomp!