5
I step into the mansion last, all eyes upon me.
‘No quiet corners to sit tight and observe.’
Raising my chin, I head straight to the bar, ignoring the titters and gasps, feigned or otherwise, of the other competitors as they see my destroyed dress.
No one approaches, though. Most continue discussing in hushed whispers with those who had come in before me what had happened on the way over. Apparently, keeping secrets doesn’t count with those you’re competing against, just the man you plan to marry.
Shaking my head at overheard snatches of conversation, I peruse the alcohol on offer.
I know, not just because of what the director said, but because of The Game’s rules, that at least two of the women in this room will not survive tonight, so I’m reluctant to speak to anyone.
But at the same time, I know alliances are important for the first three quarters of this show.
Very few women survive as lone wolves right out of the gate.
As much as it goes against the grain, I need to ally myself with some of these people.
At the very least, in the coming days I need to find one strong ‘ride or die’ who will come a fair way through the game with me.
The most deadly and beautiful should be my first port of call, an obvious alpha; that way I can be assured she’ll go as far along the game as I want her to go without someone else taking her out, or the bachelor dispensing with her.
I open a fresh bottle of champagne and pour myself a glass, noting the top of the bar is littered with bottles, all newly opened. Several contestants are carrying around glasses and bottles.
‘Can’t be too careful. Poisoning is within the rules. Still, you’d be a fool to waste your one shot at eliminating a rival within the confines of the mansion so early in the game. None of us yet know who our biggest threat is, or our strongest ally.’
Taking a sip of my champagne and sticking my finger in the top of the bottle so I can carry it around easily with me, I do a circuit of the room while we all wait for the bachelor to arrive and get this, our first cocktail party, moving.
The snatches of conversation I hear make me cringe and mentally snigger as I weave among the women.
“I blacked out from love as soon as I saw him.”
“Oh, he’s such a cutie, it’s like I’m dreaming.”
“There was a connection straight away. We locked eyes, and my heart almost stopped.”
“I once knew a man with similar looks who liked to be peed on. I wonder what kinks the Viscount has. He’s so old, he must have many.”
“I’d pee on him. I’d do anything and everything on him.”
“I already feel like he’s my boyfriend. Is that weird?”
I snort and choke a little on my champagne when several of the women start to chant, “For Jaguar….grrrrrr,” curling their hands to scratch the air as though they’re big cats.
Groaning internally, I continue my careful study.
Everyone is beautiful, of course, but not everyone is dark-skinned.
I guess that must have just been my carload of contestants.
There are complexions from every corner of the world.
And while most contestants are standing around drinking, gossiping, and effecting nonchalance, it’s clear they’re all in their own ways, predators.
All except one.
Sauntering over to the couch, I sit beside a beautiful blonde with a wide, open and friendly, albeit slightly bemused, face. She has long, straight hair and is wearing a powder-blue velvet dress that complements her eyes perfectly.
“Hi,” I sigh as I sit, “I’m Catriona.”
“I’m Thorun.”
“Thorun, that’s an unusual name. Where are you from?”
“Iceland.”
“For real?” I snort. “Jesus, this guy must have a seriously diverse taste in women. And by taste, I mean literally and figuratively.”
“I guess,” she frowns. “Can you tell me why we’re all just sitting around here, and why everyone’s so unfriendly? I came in here third, but so far you’re the only lady to speak to me.”
“Lady?” I smirk and shake my head. “I’m far from that. But you know the rules of The Game, we need to wait for the bachelor to arrive to start the cocktail party.”
“It looks like a party already to me,” she smiles, “although not the kind I’m accustomed to.”
“And not the kind we’d stay at if we had a choice,” I mutter.
“Exactly!” She smiles. “You understand. Can I call you Cat?”
“No, only friends call me that.”
“Oh, well, we could become friends.”
“We won’t.”
“Oh.”
She looks down and nods to the bottle I’ve squished between us.
“May I?”
“If you dare,” I frown.
“Oh, ah, I’ll get my own if you need all of it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need all of it,” ‘well maybe I do,’ “but…aren’t you worried I’ll poison you?”
“Why would you do that?” She laughs.
I cock my head to one side and study her.
“Thorun, you do realise we’re on The Vampire Bachelor Games. We’re all here to win the hand of the bachelor.”
“A game show, yes,” she nods, “my grandmother entered me to find a husband. She despaired of me living my life without someone by my side. But look around,” she shakes her head, “these women are so beautiful. I’m obviously going to go home alone.”
“Home?” I frown.
Our conversation is interrupted by the entrance of the man of the hour.