30. Brody
Brody
I’m unable to drag my eyes from hers. Everything around us fades to nothing, leaving only a pool of light with her in the centre, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
If I were to lean in a few centimetres I could kiss her. The realisation sends a frisson up my spine and I can feel my heart thumping in my temples. It would be so easy.
She drags her gaze from mine and subtly rubs her tongue over her lips. My heart rate rises again.
I don’t know who moves first, or maybe it happens at the exact same moment, something supernatural pulling us together. Her lips are cool on mine. Fireworks crackle in my chest. I raise my hand to touch her hair.
“Get a room!” The words come from a large Geordie man coming back from the loos. He laughs loudly as Ari and I jump apart. The moment broken.
“I’ll just get us another bottle,” Ari says quietly and scurries off to the bar.
My cheeks blaze in the dim light of the pub.
Ari doesn’t mention the kiss, just acts like it never happened, as if it were a moment of madness never to be repeated, the same as she did the morning after the hot tub.
The evening starts to turn towards chaos.
Clara takes her newfound freedom a little too far and is practically paralytic by ten thirty.
“Whoopsie,” Ari says as Clara stands up to go to the loo and she only narrowly catches her before she faceplants into the floor. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”
Clara blows a raspberry in her face. “Spoilsport.”
“I think I should take you home,” Ari tells her.
“Not before I introduce myself to that hottie over there.” She points towards a group of guys in the opposite corner.
They are normies, five guys on a stag party who are here to get some – and I quote here because I overheard them when I last went to the bar – “slutty vampire action” for the groom.
Apparently in their group it’s a rite of passage before he has to take fidelity more seriously.
I want to punch them all in the face for being disgusting pigs.
“They’re tourists,” Ari tells her with a sneer. “Stupid little tourist boys.”
“Gross,” Clara replies and makes a retching noise that sounds so convincing the girls at the table next to us squeal and pick their bags off the floor just in case there is a vomit shower incoming.
“You need to go home,” Ivan tears his attention away from the conversation he’s having with Matt. “Seriously.”
“Yes sir,” Clara says.
Ari turns to me. “Ivan is never the one to tell you to go home. So if he ever does, it’s time to listen.”
“I think he’s probably right,” I say with a small grimace, hoping I don’t become the bad guy in the situation. “How about I come with you, make sure you get back safely.”
“Oh, you’re sweet,” Ari says. “But honestly we’ll be fine. I have fangs remember.”
“I know. Just…” I trail off. I mean, if anyone were to try anything with them they can look after themselves far better than I could. But still, chivalry isn’t dead and I’d feel horrible if I left them to go home alone.
We take a taxi back to Clara’s house, and somehow she manages not to throw up in the back of the car. She stumbles into her bedroom and closes the door without even saying goodnight.
“I think I’m just going to stay here,” Ari says and I notice that she’s also looking a little worse for wear.
She lies down on the sofa, tucking her hands up under her chin like a t-rex. There’s a blanket draped over the back of the seat and I cover her with it, gently tucking it under her chin.
“Sorry about back there. In the Crimson Well,” she mumbles slightly as she burrows under the blanket.
“How do you mean?” I ask. Is she talking about the kiss?
“What I said about the whole tourists thing,” she explains.
Oh. “I get it,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “You don’t date normies. You don’t have to apologise.”
“It isn’t that… it’s just… some guys can be…” She makes a face.
“Disgusting. Creepy. Perverts.” I list them off on my fingers. “I have three sisters,” I tell her. “I know exactly how gross some guys can be.”
“You’re one of the good ones though,” she tells me and then smiles as she closes her eyes.
I pull the blanket up an inch, just to make sure she’s as cosy as possible.
I know she doesn’t get bothered by the cold, but there’s still something nice about snuggling, isn’t there?
Her hand reaches out and she gently cups my cheek.
She doesn’t open her eyes but her smile broadens slightly.
“Definitely one of the good ones,” she whispers before pulling her hand back and promptly falling asleep, letting out a gentle snore.
I head back to the flat and find Matt and Ivan in the living room. Matt is setting up Mario Kart and I can hear them talking from the hallway as I take off my shoes.
“You can’t be serious?” Matt says.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Ivan replies.
“Ha ha. But serious? You’ve never played Mario Kart.
Like you were around when this all began.
OMG, did you have like an original NES?” Matt has always loved vintage computer games and will spend hours at car boot sales looking for pieces of treasure in the things people throw out or try to sell for a fiver.
“Nope. Honestly, I have never played this Mario go cart thing.”
“Well then. You’re going to have to learn.”
I decide to leave them to it rather than be a weird little third wheel. I think this is Matt flirting and I don’t want to cramp his style.
Half an hour later and Matt and Ivan are still playing.
I can hear them from my room; it turned out that Ivan wasn’t being entirely truthful and he has played Mario Kart before.
A lot. And he has an entire collection of vintage consoles, all pristine and in their boxes.
Matt is refusing to be beaten though and it’s getting a little competitive. I still think Matt’s flirting though.
I wake up to brilliant light flooding the room through the open curtains.
The dream I was immersed in begins to fade, the edges blurring.
I definitely remember that Ari was in it.
Is it bad for me to have inappropriate dreams about my boss?
This has never happened to me before. I mean, I was hardly going to fantasise about Clive, my boss from my last job, was I?
But this dream with Ari feels different.
It wasn’t just… you know. It was more than that.
I pull the pillow from behind my head and use it to smother the groan that escapes from my mouth.
Nope, this is not happening. I’m not catching proper feelings for Ari.
She’s my boss. And a hundred and seventy-two year old vampire.
And she definitely doesn’t date normies, even if she did say I was “one of the good ones”.
I throw on some pyjama bottoms and head to the kitchen to make some coffee and toast. I don’t feel too hungover but I’m still half expecting it to slap me in the face at any moment.
Matt comes to join me about five minutes later, that vampire super scent always able to sniff out a pot of freshly brewed dark roast.
“Good night?” I ask him as I reach for a mug to pour him a cup.
He nods and a shy smile flicks at the corner of his mouth.
“What time did Ivan head home?”
“About three…” The smile broadens.
“You had a good time though?”
“Yeah. He’s fun.” Matt pulls out a stool and plonks himself into it. “Now then, tell me all about this funding thing. I didn’t get to talk to you properly last night and you barely came home the night before.”
“It’s not a done deal yet. We still need to pitch to the High Council.”
“Sorry?” He almost spits out his coffee. “Did you say the High Council?”
“Yes…” I pull a face and wait for him to tell me more about the weird way he just reacted.
“The High Council, as in Andrei Hele?”
“He’s Clara’s dad?” Surely Matt knows this? Surely he’s put two and two together from everything we’ve been talking about the last week? But the look on his face says he did not know.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
I nod a few times, a wry smile on my face. “Yes. Fucking. Way.”
“But she’s so…” he gropes for the right word. “Normal.”
I snort. It’s a lie. Clara is anything but normal, especially from where I’m sitting.
“You know what I mean. Like she isn’t a pureblood lunatic. Oh my god. What if she is?”
“I don’t think she is,” I reassure him. “But seriously. What’s the gossip about Andrei Hele? Like the official vampire inside knowledge.”
Matt breathes out heavily. “How the fuck would I know?”
“Because you are, at least the last time we checked, a vampire.”
“Touché,” he concedes. “But it isn’t like I know many vampires.
In fact,” he points a finger at me, “you might know more than I do. Oh. My. God.” He elongates each word and sits back in his seat.
“You’re actually closer to shagging a vampire than I am.
” He picks up his mug and chuckles softly into his coffee.
“What about Ivan?”
“I think he just wants to be friends.”
“He definitely wants to be more than that,” I tell him. I might not be an expert in much that’s vampire related, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.
Matt flaps his hand as if it doesn’t really matter. It’s an act but I let it go. And instantly regret my choices when he starts chuckling again. “Holy shit. You know I hadn’t thought about that before. You’re actually going to pop your vampire cherry.”
I can feel my blush deepening, turning my cheeks a brilliant scarlet you could probably see from space. “It isn’t like that. I don’t fancy her.” But the words sound thin in my ears. We both know it’s a lie.
“Of course not.” He winks theatrically at me.
“Besides, she doesn’t feel that way about me.”
“Which is obviously irrelevant given you don’t like her anyway.”
“Obviously.”
He stares at me for a few moments and then picks up his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint. “So. Shall we see what Reddit has to say about Clara’s old man?” he asks.
“Why is your answer always Reddit?”
“Because Google is a trash fire and people on Reddit are not all incel lunatics like the people on Twitter.”
“X,” I correct him.
“Whatever.” He says in the same sarcastic tone as the mean high school girls of mid-90s movies. His mum was a huge fan of Clueless and Matt grew up with Alicia Silverstone and Brittany Murphy as honorary babysitters while she was at work.
“Ooh…” he says on an outward breath. “Reddit is lit up with stories about Andrei Hele.”
“What’s the consensus?”
He puts his phone down and stares at me. “It’s Reddit: there is no consensus.”
“Fair enough.”
He picks the phone back up. “So there’s a group who think he is the vampire equivalent of Elon Musk. But in like a good way.” He makes a face that says he does not share their opinions. “And there’s a group who think he’s the spawn of Satan.”
He leans forward, nose mere centimetres from the phone screen as if that will help him understand what he’s reading. “No. Like, literally the spawn of Satan.” He glances up at me. “Some people think he might actually be the original vampire.”
“Vampire zero?”
“The ‘True Father’.”
“Wow, now that is a title.” I grimace a little. It has a certain connotation to it and it doesn’t sit very well.
“Yeah. I think we’re thinking the same thing.” He returns the grimace before he continues to scroll. “Oh wow. There’s a whole thread about it.” He scrolls for another minute before he snaps his head up to look at me. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.” He sounds serious. Deadly serious.
“Of course.” I swallow. “What does it say?”
“Nothing.” He puts his phone down on the table, the screen against the scratched wood surface. “Just promise me.”
All I can do is nod dumbly. Whatever he has read has spooked him. But I know he isn’t ready to tell me the truth. Not yet anyway.