Oxford Blood (12 page)

Archie had been looking into the middle distance, but now he
focussed on Harriet for the first time and his sadness turned to anger. “You’re
pointlessly cruel George. Fine, thrust her likeness in my face. Do you actually
think you can make me hate myself any more than I already do?”

“You know, they say that regret over killing his true love
was the making of Augustine back in the day. Maybe you should think about that
and stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” George smirked.

Archie gave him a look of pure hatred and began to walk
away.

“Just make sure you’re at the dinner Archie,” George shouted
after his retreating back. “Or you’ll have to answer to Augustine. I see you’ve
refused to bring a date for the evening. Questions are already being asked.”

“What was that all about?” Harriet asked, feeling disturbed
by the encounter.

“Oh, nothing much. Some take to membership better than
others that’s all.”

“But killing his true love?” Harriet didn’t like the sound
of that at all.

“Oh, it’s all banter really. Don’t worry about his whining.”

If we can’t just be by ourselves, I wish we could at
least avoid the less pleasant members
.

George finally seemed to pick up on her signals, and began
to lead her to the front of the room. As they turned to face the door however,
she froze. Tom and Katie.

You’re being irrational
.
You’re here with George.
Tom has every right to bring whoever he wants. Even stuck up bitches like her
.

Harriet tried to flash them a smile, but couldn’t quite make
herself. George turned his head to see what she was staring at, and frowned.
Luckily, before any real awkwardness could ensue, a bell rang solemnly, a door
by the side of the fire that Harriet hadn’t noticed before swung open. The
members gathered their guests, and everyone filed out into a long stone
corridor.

The couples walked along the winding passage for several
minutes, most of the guests glancing nervously around, puzzled as to where they
were going.

“I’ve always wanted to go through a secret passage,” Harriet
whispered.

George smiled back, amused.

A few minutes later, they reached another door marked with the
Cavaliers’ crest. Stepping through, Harriet found herself by a long stone
staircase that led to the hall.

The hall was much the same as the one at her college: long
tables, dramatic portraits and as on any formal hall night, lots of candles,
cutlery and crystalwear. A stand had been erected by the entrance, supporting a
detailed seating plan. George didn’t even bother to look at it, just led
Harriet straight to the high table.

When everyone had sat down, Rupert, who had also found his
way to the top table, stood up and walked to the front of the raised area. “I
shall now gather the potential new recruits,” he announced, and left the room.

Whilst everyone waited for his return, waiters poured
glasses of wine. The starters of foie gras terrine were served, but no one
began to eat. Harriet realised how hungry she was and wished Rupert would hurry
up. She took advantage of the wait to scan the room. Some of the faces she
recognised from various nights out around Oxford. Others, especially on the
high table seemed vaguely familiar from elsewhere. She suspected that some of
them might be politicians but couldn’t quite place them.

George sat to her right, next to the empty central chair.
She was pleased that Hugh was opposite her, but no longer accompanied by the
odious Crispin. His date, sat facing George, was a girl called Catherine with
stunning curves and huge hair who was glammed up to the hilt. Harriet had met
her a few times around the Union and seemed to remember that she’d just been
elected onto the Standing Committee there, the team that helped the officers
organise events and did whatever other tasks were required to hopefully rise up
the ranks one day. Whilst by all accounts she’d been ruthlessly efficient in
her campaign, she was very sweet and Harriet was pleased that Hugh had made
such a good choice.

Catherine seemed hugely excited to have been invited, and
rambled to Harriet about how utterly fantastic her term had been, and how this
was just the perfect ending, and about her plans for Christmas, and how she was
going to run for Secretary next term, and how she wanted to organise a charity
ball.

“I’m not sure what charity yet, but wouldn’t that just be so
much fun? Would you be interested in helping out if I get it off the ground?”

“You know, introducing the new members is meant to be one of
the most important roles of the evening,” interrupted George. “Rupert seems
just thrilled to be responsible. But honestly, who in their right mind wouldn’t
rather sit here, drink delicious wine and enjoy glorious company?”

Harriet couldn’t disagree. Now that her initial panic had
worn off, she was enjoying herself immensely. She was beginning to wonder
whether she’d imagined George’s previous actions or at least blown them out of
proportion. After all, she’d been drunk and over-excited, it wasn’t too hard to
believe she could have misinterpreted what was going on. She touched her neck
reflectively, but the wound had almost entirely healed and disappeared.

A moment later, the door to the hall swung open and Rupert
strode in, followed by fifteen guys walking in line. Harriet stared at them
intrigued. She noticed that one was Robert, the irritating rich boy who’d
spoken to her in the club the night she’d gone off with George. Another was
Harry, the boy who’d organised the Union’s Halloween party. To her amazement
however, one of those selected was Ben. She caught his eye and he smiled. She
wondered if Caroline knew.

The boys were all dressed in white tie, though without the
accessories in the society colours sported by the real members. They all seemed
to have near uniform expressions of arrogance and pleasure at being invited,
tinged with nerves. It struck her that the Cavaliers weren’t big on positive
discrimination. The chosen ones were universally male, predominantly white, and
as far as she could tell, overwhelmingly upper class.

Rupert led them onto the dais and addressed the crowd.
“Ladies, gentlemen, Cavaliers. This year’s committee have attended every party
worth going to. We have scoured the sports teams, observed with close interest
what freshers were hacking for what elections, kept an eye out for the
offspring of the rich, the famous and the worthy. We have read the columns of
both student papers and the gossip sheets of each college.”

Everyone was listening, rapt, but George whispered to
Harriet, “You know, I do this sort of speech much better.”

“Once we had some idea of who were the freshers worth
knowing (as well as a few previously overlooked second years who’ve upped their
game) we held college drinks parties to sound them out and pick our favourites.
Between us, we have decided on fifteen candidates, who I will now introduce to
you.”

“He did no work at all,” George continued. “I swear I picked
out almost all the most promising ones.”

Whilst Rupert had been speaking, everyone had begun to eat.
The food was wonderful.

Rupert was introducing the candidates one by one and giving
a potted biography of their background, college, subject and achievements so
far. Once he had finished with this task, he directed the candidates to a table
at the far end of the hall.

“You have been selected as some of the most interesting and
most promising young men that Oxford has to offer. Revel in that fact and enjoy
your night. But remember, we are a society for the elite of the elite. You will
attend our events over the coming year and some of you will be rejected. At our
midsummer party, five of you will be inducted into the Cavaliers. The others
will be banished from any contact with us in future.

“I wish the candidates luck and I wish everyone else the
most marvellous night,” Rupert finished. Then he moved to sit down on the left
hand side of the throne.

With the speeches and introductions over, everyone focused
on eating, drinking and talking to their neighbours.

“Which five do you think they’ll select?” Catherine asked.

As far as Harriet could tell, she seemed to know and have
strong opinions on all fifteen, and at the prospect of something resembling an
election, her eyes had lit up. To Harriet’s pleasure, she had lots of positive
things to say about Ben.

The meal continued with a pan-fried breast of duckling,
followed by chocolate torte for pudding. With each course, a different wine was
served. Harriet didn’t know much about wine, but suspected that they were all
top vintages. They certainly tasted great.

Harriet felt relieved that the meal had been basically
uneventful, similar to any other formal meal she’d attended at Oxford, albeit
with exceptionally good food and wine and alarmingly attractive people. She
felt silly for having worried so much. Having only accepted George’s invitation
to prove a point to Tom, she was surprised to find herself enjoying his company
just as much as she had on their previous meeting, before it had all gone
wrong. Her memories of the end of the night were rapidly fading, to be replaced
with thoughts of how wonderful it had been to walk arm in arm with him around
the darkened city.

Everything but a glass each for water and for port were
cleared away, and it seemed that the evening was drawing to a close. Some of
the guests began wondering aloud whether there was any plan for an after party,
but the members just smiled.

As the college bells began to ring in eleven o’clock, Rupert
stood up, walked to the table where the new candidates were sitting and led
them out of the hall. He returned accompanied by Gus.

Harriet stared in amazement at her stepfather. She wanted to
ask George for an explanation but was utterly speechless. Gus walked up the
hall and sat down on the central throne.

“My apologies for my lateness tonight. I was unable to
attend the more social part of the evening, but have at least arrived to lead
the ceremonial aspect.”

Everyone in the room was staring at him, the members with
appropriate respect, the female guests with curiosity and a certain amount of
awe. He appeared to be at least twenty years older than the other Cavaliers,
but was no less attractive.

Gus turned to catch her eye and smiled. Harriet had no idea
how to react, but managed to smile back.

“Gentlemen, stand behind your partners,” he ordered.

Each Cavalier followed his instructions, and placed their
hands on their guest’s shoulders.

“The other guests are all under hypnosis right now,” George
whispered to her. “When Augustine raises his cane, each Cavalier will begin to
drink from their partner. Now the million pound question is, are you going to
let me do the same?”

Harriet continued to stare straight ahead, watching Hugh
play with Catherine’s hair, whose face was a picture of calm. She didn’t think
she could look at George or her stepfather without losing all self-control.

“Please no. Not you too. Is this vampire thing a big in-joke
between you and Tom, or do you honestly all believe it?”

George massaged her neck and shoulders, sending tremors
through her. She knew she should just walk out, but he was having an oddly
sedating effect on her.

He didn’t even bother to address her disbelief. His voice
had taken on an oddly pleading tone.

“I promise it won’t hurt. I won’t take enough to harm you.
I’ll even give you some of mine afterwards. Then you’ll feel amazing.”

Suddenly, Gus raised his cane, and all the Cavaliers but
George bit into their partner.

Harriet screamed. She couldn’t believe the scene before her.
The guests stood impassively as the members drank from them. Some were very
gentle, kissing necks and stroking hair and whispering things to them when they
came up for air. Others however were more vicious, gripping the girls and
sucking hard, or biting again and again in different places. It all seemed unreal.
In a horrible flash, she realised that Tom had been telling the truth.

“Harriet, calm down,” George said quietly but urgently,
gently touching her forehead. Her screams turned to hysterical sobs. Some of
the vampires turned from their partners to look at her, several of them with a
disapproving look on their faces.

“It’s okay. The girls aren’t getting hurt really. They’re
all mesmerised and no one is going to be stupid enough to take too much.
They’ll be basically fine in the morning,” George said soothingly.

Harriet was shaking. This couldn’t be real, it just
couldn’t, but there was only so long she could disbelieve the evidence of her
own eyes.

“Harriet, look at me,” George said firmly, turning her
around, pulling her towards him and looking into her eyes. “It’s fine. Just
relax.”

Her hysteria only intensified, her sobs becoming louder.

“Damn pendant,” George said ruefully, realising his tactics
weren’t working. “You could do with a bit of mesmerising right now.”

She finally made herself calm down enough to speak. “You’re
really vampires aren’t you?”

George didn’t look in the mood for a philosophical
discussion. “Yes, yes we are.”

“And if it wasn’t for my necklace, you could make me totally
out of it like all the others.”

“Well, not quite so easily. You’re oddly resistant on your
own. But I’m pretty sure I could have stopped you from screaming the place
down.”

Harriet’s shaking hands began to fumble at the pendant’s
intricate clasp. “Do it. Put me under. I need to forget this.”

“And if I bite you whilst you’re out, what then?” George
asked with a mocking look in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t dare would you? I understand how Tom managed
to scare you off now. It’s him isn’t it? My step-father.”

“Forget the mind-tricks. Just let me taste you and you’ll
soon feel fine anyway. He won’t have a problem if you’re willing.”