8
The naturally-pretty blonde sips her drink and leans back in her chair, seemingly more comfortable than any of the other contestants who’ve had conversations with me tonight — Apart from the English woman who’d put her hand on my upper thigh and squeezed.
But I don’t think that one will last long if the expressions on the other contestants’ faces when she returned to the mansion are anything to go by.
“So, you truly know absolutely nothing about this game?” I murmur my question to the Icelandic beauty beside me as I swirl my whisky and stare into its amber depths. “You don’t know the rules, the rituals, the aim…”
“No,” she shrugs, “although I don’t know why the other competitors were so rude to me about it.
I assume the aim is to find out whether we’re compatible and, if so, to marry you.
If not, I guess I leave empty-handed having had a unique experience.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as my grandmother says. ”
‘Compatible? Unique experience?’
I uncross my legs and lean forward to look into her eyes, uncertain whether she’s an excellent liar or the most unfortunate woman I’ve ever met.
“You’ve seriously never heard of the Vampire Bachelor Games? The longest-running reality television show in history?”
She shrugs.
“We don’t have very good reception where I live, and I hardly know anyone who watches television anyway. I’ve never heard of these games; although I know about vampires, of course. I don’t live under a rock!”
“No, you live on one,” I smirk. “Grimsey Island is, as far as I know, nothing but an outcrop in the sea off Iceland known for birds, fish, and very little else.”
“I’m impressed you know that,” she smiles a genuine, wide smile. “It’s also the most beautiful place on earth.”
“It is beautiful,” I nod, my eyes not leaving hers, “starkly beautiful.” ‘As are you.’ “I visited once. I recall there were fewer than twenty people living there at the time.”
“About one hundred now,” she smiles, “and I know every one of them like the back of my hand.”
“I’ll bet you do,” I snort as I shake my head and catch the director’s eye. He’s giving me a wind-up signal and indicating that I should look towards the mansion where many more women still await their turn for a conversation with me.
They can wait. This woman is the most original and real that I’ve met.
“Did you know about this?” I look directly at the director as I ask the question.
“Cut!”
“Ah, if this is true,” he narrows his eyes at Thorun, “then it’s a first, in my time at least. I honestly just thought she was stupid.”
“I’m not stupid,” Thorun snaps. “I do all the books for the fish factory, all the inventory, nothing leaves or arrives on our island without my organisation!”
I frown as some of the crew snigger, and the director turns and berates them before focusing back on me.
“May I have a private word, Viscount?”
Intrigued, I nod and rise to follow him a short distance away.
“If she is a complete innocent, the viewers are going to eat this up,” he grimaces as I raise an amused eyebrow at his terminology, “what I’m saying is, it would be great if you didn’t kill her tonight.
Let her stick around for a while and really garner some support from the audience.
Her lack of knowledge will make for hilariously heartbreaking viewing. ”
“You think to sway my decision?” I glower at the small man.
“No, no, not at all, Viscount,” he licks his lips nervously, “merely to ask that you let her tag along for a while and eliminate those more, ah, annoying contestants first — and let’s face it, she isn’t going to last long anyway.”
“I’m not going to eliminate anyone,” I murmur.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard. I don’t plan on killing any woman on this show.”
“But Viscount, the rules…”
“The rules say that only one must remain at the end. Have you been listening to anything these women have said tonight?”
“Ah, meaning?”
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger.
“Meaning they’re mostly all deadly, avaricious bitches. Even those who aren’t are certainly capable of defending themselves and taking out their competition. I won’t need to lift a finger or show a fang. They’re all plainly intent on murdering one another for my hand.”
“But, but…” he splutters, “you said you were fortunate to be surrounded by such beauty….”
“I lied.”
“But, the bite. The bite is integral to the show.”
I sneer at him as he whines.
“How will we film without the bite?”
“That’s for you to figure out,” I snap. “Now, can we get back to it? Dawn is approaching, and I’d rather not be the first bachelor to fry on camera.”
He nods, his eyes widening as he checks the sky before hurrying back to his spot and clearing his throat loudly as I reclaim my seat beside Thorun.
“Are you ready to proceed, Viscount?”
“Yes,” I nod, now genuinely interested in the story behind the girl’s selection.
“And...Action!”
“I apologise for keeping you waiting, Thorun. So, tell me, knowing nothing about The Games, how on earth did you enter?”
“My grandmother,” she smiles, “there are literally no single men my age left on our island. Mostly we leave at twelve to go to school on the mainland and very few return, so….”
“You returned.”
“I never left. I couldn’t leave Gran or the island, I love both too much, and she never forced me.”
“So, your grandmother thought to enter you into a game show to find you a husband.”
“Yes. She and I only have one another, and she worries now that she’s getting on in years about what will become of me when she’s gone.”
“Well, she won’t need to worry now,” I reply dryly, draining my glass and pointedly ignoring the director. “You’re either going to marry me or die.”
She chokes on her drink and places the glass down, hard, on the coffee table in front of her.
“Pardon?”
“This game is not like any other dating show, Thorun. The rules say only one woman can remain standing. All the rest will be killed either by the bachelor, namely me, or by other contestants. No one can leave once they’ve entered.
You won’t be getting out of here with a ‘unique’ experience.
I’m afraid your grandmother has accidentally signed your death warrant. ”
“No!” She gasps.
I keep my eyes on hers and nod slowly, watching as the weight of the information I’ve imparted sinks in.
“Fokk!” She eventually exclaims.
“Yes,” I nod as I pour myself another whisky, “my thoughts exactly.”