Oxford Blood (27 page)

Everyone looked at him in surprise.

“My goodness,” said George. “You’re actually willing to get
involved in a Cavalier event? Does that mean you’ve got over your lost love?”

“No, and I probably never will,” he replied. “But I’ve
always tried to do everything well. Maybe it will even work with this whole vampire
business. Maybe if I prove myself you’ll give me the sort of boost you gave
Edward.”

“Well, that’s the spirit,” said Rupert. “Still, I hope
you’ll forgive me for not trusting you 100% after the way you’ve been acting
all year. We’ll all be very grateful if you’ll go and collect the swords, but I
want Crispin to go with you, just to be sure everything goes smoothly.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Archie replied.

With that, Archie and Crispin strode away towards Tom’s
room, whilst the rest of them stepped out onto the Steele Walk. They mainly
walked in silence, focussed on the serious task ahead. Harriet could barely
believe that only an hour before she’d been wandering the same path with Tom,
laughing and holding hands.

After a few minutes, their group reached the bridge that
lead to the meadow. The younger vampires stepped over it nonchalantly, but the
older ones had to be coaxed or even dragged across.

“Are the older ones just more superstitious or actually more
affected by running water?” Harriet asked Tom, hoping the others couldn’t hear.
He’d hesitated for a second or two then walked across the bridge without any
real trouble. George on the other hand was acting like a startled horse.
Harriet remembered his refusal to go on the bridge the night he’d attacked her.

“A bit of both really,” he replied. “It’s the same for most
of our problems. The older and more powerful vampires are definitely more
susceptible to sunlight. But they are also more nervous around crucifixes and
things, just because they were brought up in a more religious time.”

“George is stronger than you, isn’t he? I mean, that’s just
a fact.”

“That’s fair. This is your mother’s point after all. He’s a
lot older and he’s really worked on his powers. Plus, on a practical level,
having been born into a seventeenth century aristocratic family, he’s probably
just generally better at sword fighting than I am.”

“Do you know how to do it at all?” Harriet asked. Her heart
was pounding. She didn’t think she could stand to see him hurt.

“Oh yes, I’m reasonably good as it happens. I actually
fenced for Eton and then for the college, back in the twenties. But that’s
rather different to training daily to fight in a war.”

Harriet didn’t ask any more questions. She wasn’t sure she
wanted to hear the answers.

The group sat down in the meadow, waiting for Crispin and
Archie to return with swords. Apparently, all the Cavaliers were given one at
the time they were turned, as it was a symbol of the organisation.

“Would it help if I gave you more of my blood?” Harriet
whispered to Tom.

“Well, I suppose it would, but I’ve already drank from you
once tonight. I’m not sure it’d be a good idea to do it again.”

“Don’t be stupid. If it’ll help you at all, then of course I
want to do it. Take as much as you need. I’ll recover fast enough, and there’s
not that much on next week.”

Tom was clearly unsure, but she took his head and guided it
to her neck. She would have preferred to do this somewhere private, but there
wasn’t time for niceties. He bit down. At first, he drank slowly, cautious
about taking too much, but within moments, his instincts kicked in and he began
to drink deeply.

Harriet was nervous about the duel and despite her brave
words, about allowing Tom to take too much blood, but she tried to stay calm. She
stroked Tom’s soft hair as he drank and let herself drift into the euphoric
trancelike state that a drinking vampire could induce.

“Here we are,” Archie shouted, rappearing with two swords.
Tom broke off suddenly, keeping one arm around Harriet so that she didn’t fall
to the ground. Archie threw one to George and the other to Tom. Both of them
used their perfect reflexes to catch them easily.

“Where is Crispin?” Rupert asked suspiciously.

“He wouldn’t cross the bridge. Seems dreadfully old
fashioned to me,” Archie replied.

“Oh well, we’d better get started. We’re running out of non
daylight hours.”

Tom and George stood, and walked to the centre of the
meadow. As soon as he let go of her, Harriet slumped down. She was sure that
she’d never had as much blood taken before. It was all she could do to stay
conscious, but if it helped Tom to win then she didn’t care.

Rupert counted down, and when he finished, the two vampires
strode over to each other and began to fight. Harriet watched their battle in a
daze. Both Tom and George moved incredibly fast, faster than any human could.
They swung their heavy swords as though they weighed nothing, and dodged
attacks that seemed impossible to avoid.

Harriet found it difficult to tell who had the upper hand.
She was relieved however to see that Tom wasn’t struggling anywhere near as
much as she’d feared he might. The fight went on and on. Harriet wondered how
they were finding the energy to keep going.

“You’re better than I thought,” George shouted, laughing.
“You ought to all but drain people more often. I always find it helps.”

Tom didn’t reply, just concentrated on fending off George’s
attacks.

He’s starting to weaken
, Harriet realised. Tom was
still managing to neatly protect himself, but all of his energy was going into
defence rather than attack.

“When does this end?” she shouted to Rupert, who was
watching intently.

“It’s a fight to the apparent death. Basically, at some
point one of them will take a wound that would kill a human. They’ll pass out
but be fine after a while.”

As he was answering, George gasped. Tom had managed to catch
his arm, cutting the skin. As she watched however, the wound closed and healed.
George fought back with renewed intensity. Both combatants were losing their
cool, and before long, George had inflicted a similar cut on Tom. From then on,
the fighting was frantic. They abandoned the careful defences in favour of
risking all on stabbing at each other. Every few seconds one would make contact
with the other’s body, cutting them terribly. Logically, Harriet knew that they
would heal fast and no real harm could occur, but she still felt sick watching
it. The others had no such qualms, cheering either the one they supported, or
any impressive move.

Suddenly, Tom had his sword to George’s neck, and everyone
fell silent. Whilst she would rather it was George than Tom, Harriet could
still hardly bear to see his throat slit. She closed her eyes involuntarily. It
took all her strength to open them again, and when she did, she was horrified to
see Tom on the floor. Somehow, George had dodged the sword and knocked Tom off
balance.

Get up
, she willed silently. She wanted to shout
encouragement, but couldn’t find the strength. Before she knew what was
happening, George had thrown Tom’s sword across the meadow. He leaned over him
and thrust his sword down hard. She screamed as it pierced her boyfriend’s
heart. Blood went everywhere.
My blood mainly
, she thought, before
passing out.

***

Harriet came round in Tom’s room, lying on his bed. A few of
the Cavaliers were there. She tried to stand, but felt too weak. Instead, she
glanced wearily around her, looking for Tom. He was lying in his coffin,
absolutely dead to the world. Someone had removed his shirt and waistcoat, so
she could see that a scar had already formed where George’s sword had
penetrated. It looked as though he’d sustained the injury years rather than
minutes before.

“He’ll be okay, I promise,” Rupert said. “The wound has
already healed as you can see. He’ll take a few days to recover from the blood
loss and the trauma, but there won’t be any long term effects.”

“How did we get back here?” she asked weakly.

“The few of us who could flew,” he replied calmly. “I
carried an unconscious Tom, George took you. I didn’t think you’d entirely approve,
but you have the blood bond, so he did have the right.”

“Okay, but I want you to leave now,” she said, as firmly as
she could through her weakness. “I think your little society has caused enough
trouble for one night, and I need some time alone with Tom.”

Rupert nodded and quickly led the other members out, until
the only one remaining was George.

“Please leave George,” she said. “Can’t you see that I don’t
want you here?”

“Can’t you see that you’ve lost so much blood you can hardly
function? And it still didn’t do any good. Putting the best oil in an old Ford
won’t make it drive like a Ferrari.”

“I don’t want to hear this. I’m not in the mood for one of
our little conversations. You’ve as good as killed him.”

“Oh he’ll be fine,” George said, sitting down on the bed
beside her. “I’m not sure I can say the same for you though. He’s going to be
in no state to replace all that blood for the next few weeks. Let me give you
some of mine to help you rebuild your strength.”

“George, no. I don’t need your blood. I don’t need anything
from you except for you to leave me alone.”

“Oh come on,” he said, leaning in slightly. “You’ve had it
before. We already have our little blood bond. A few drops more won’t make any
difference. Consider it my apology for getting your boyfriend into that state.
Although I’d be lying if I said I regretted it.”

Harriet wanted to resist, but she did feel incredibly frail
and ill. She remembered how great she’d felt the last time she’d taken his
blood. How could she help Tom if she had no strength herself?

“Alright, I’ll do this for the good of my health,” she said
at last. “But don’t you dare try to make anything of it. A starving man would
accept food from his worst enemy I suppose.”

“Let’s get started then,” George said, grinning. Harriet
wished he would at least pretend not to be delighted about the whole situation.

“Not here. I’m not having Tom wake up to see us doing that.”

“Where then? Your room?”

Harriet wondered whether she dared invite him in. If she did
the last bit of protection remaining to her would vanish, but she couldn’t do
it in public, and there wasn’t time to get anywhere else that was even vaguely
private.

“Alright. Take me up there and I’ll let you in.” Harriet
couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was about to make the stupidest
decision of her life, but it was hard to think clearly through the blood loss,
hard to keep things in perspective when she’d seen her boyfriend stabbed.

Gently he picked her up and began to climb the stairs. “I’ll
carry you normally this time,” he said soothingly. “Flying is pointless
indoors.”

Harriet didn’t think anything else could shock her, but
decided not to argue. She paused once they reached her door and looked at his
flashing emerald eyes. “I suppose you’d better come in,” she said nervously.

George laid her softly on her bed, and closed the door. “I
like it,” he said. “Nice posters. Lovely rug.”

“Well that’s a relief. You being a bloodthirsty monster is
one thing, but I don’t think I’d have coped if you didn’t appreciate my decor.”

He smiled at that, but quickly became all business. “It’s
almost dawn. Drink now, before I have to seek shelter.” With that, he lay down
next to her on the bed, drew his wrist to his mouth and ripped open the vein.

Harriet shuddered, but didn’t require any further
encouragement to put her mouth to his hand. The blood tasted as good as she’d
remembered and within seconds, she began to feel her strength returning. She
tried her best to focus and stay matter of fact about the feeding, to regard it
as purely about nourishment and healing and not let herself treat it as an
emotional bonding experience. On the whole, she succeeded, but it was difficult
to keep George at arms’ length and not snuggle into him.

After a while, he lifted her head up. “Better?” he asked.

“Much,” she said, climbing to her feet with ease. “Thank you
for that, but now you really had better go. I won’t have you make anything of
that. Besides, I need to check on Tom.”

“Just give me one kiss as a little thank you,” he said,
lounging back on the bed.

Harriet didn’t feel like fighting one of her endless battle
with him. She leaned over, kissed him hard but dispassionately on the lips. He
tried to put an arm around her and soften the kiss, but she held firm. She kept
this up for a few moments and then broke away.

“There you are. I hope you enjoyed it. Now please leave. I
suppose I’ll see you at the summer party.”

“As you wish Harriet. See you soon.” Obviously tired of any
pretence of normality, he disappeared in front of her.

Harriet quickly splashed water on her face and brushed her
teeth to take away the taste of both the blood and George’s lips. Glancing in
the mirror, she saw she was still wearing her pirate outfit. Never had
something looked more inappropriate. She felt as though she’d been wearing it
for a lifetime. She tore off the skirt and laboriously untied the corset, and
then slipped on a pink polka dot dress in honour of it nominally being the
first day of summer, even if the weather seemed unlikely to have noticed.

As soon as she was ready, she rushed down to Tom’s room. He
was as she’d left him, unconscious and scarred, though she was sure that even
in the half hour that she’d been away the scar had already begun to fade.

“Tom, it’s me,” she said loudly, shaking him as vigorously
as she dared. “Wake up.”

At the sound of her voice, he stirred slightly. “Harriet,”
he said, his voice barely audible.

“Oh thank God, you’re alive. I know all this stuff about how
normal injuries can’t kill you, but I was so worried.”