Oxford Blood (15 page)

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “There’s still time to
back out and not take the risk.”

Harriet shook her head violently. “Don’t you dare stop now!”
she said between shallow breaths. She stood up, allowing the silk dress to fall
completely to the floor, showing her matching silky gold knickers and black
stockings.

Tom gasped. From then on, he asked no more questions. He
stood too and elegantly took off his white tie outfit down to his boxer shorts.

Harriet had half expected him to be wearing some bizarre
1920s underwear so was as relieved by his Calvin Klein’s as she was impressed
by the bulge in them.

He picked her up as he had done that night on the Steele
Walk, only this time holding her more tightly and allowing his hands to explore
her body. Moving as quickly and easily as though her were carrying nothing at
all, he led her into his bedroom.

He wasn’t joking about the coffin, Harriet realised,
shivering slightly at the sight of the very ornate one by the far wall. There
was however also a double bed and to her relief it was this that he laid her
down on.

For a while they simply lay, holding each other and kissing
passionately again. Then slowly, Tom traced his hands down her body and began
to stroke her through her delicate knickers. Harriet gave a little sigh and
began to move against him. Smiling at her appreciation, he slid the tiny silk
garments off her and resumed his work. His fingers felt almost too good on her
exposed body. She breathed hard and reached into Tom’s boxer shorts to repay
him in kind. His entire body was cold. Where his fingers touched her, she
rather enjoyed the additional stimulation, like being teased with an ice cube,
but the coolness of his cock surprised her. He made sounds of appreciation as
she stroked him but she found it odd to hear no sound of heavy breathing and
feel no increase in his heartbeat.

After a while, he took her hand away and pushed her gently
onto her back. He shuffled down the bed and began to lick her with the same
delicacy and purposefulness that she’d seen several vampires use on their
victims’ necks. It felt fantastic and after a few short minutes she felt the
tension within her build to an unbearable level. She gripped his free hand hard
and stroked his hair frantically. As he licked her faster and faster whilst
stroking her inside with a cool finger, she felt the world explode. She
stiffened and gripped him, calling out his name in a gasp.

Tom kept licking, extending her pleasure until she couldn’t
take it anymore, and forced his head up. He grinned at her blissed out face and
took her into his arms, kissing and stroking her whilst she rested and
recovered and snuggled into him.

“Ready for more?” he asked after a few minutes had passed in
a relaxed and joyful daze.

“Oh yes,” Harriet replied with a smile.

Without further words, he smoothly pushed her legs apart and
laid his slim but firm body on top of her. They both gasped as he entered her.
Tom quickly got a smooth rhythm going and Harriet matched it, pushing herself
onto him and grinding against him.

She lost track of time as he moved in her. It was difficult
to maintain conscious thought, but Harriet felt filled with a sense of joy and
satisfaction that Tom had finally made his feelings clear in the nicest
possible way. She felt another climax build and as she reached it, Tom began to
move faster, kissing her hard as he did so. As she came for the second time,
she felt him shudder, losing control at the same time.

They lay still, and then Tom rolled over onto his back and
pulled her close to lie on his shoulder.

“That was unbelievable,” he said finally. “I’ve had decades
of this, but I’ve never felt such closeness, such a connection before.”

Harriet tried to find the words to agree. She’d only slept
with two people before, but that had certainly been something entirely
different, fuelled by their obvious feelings for each other.

“So no more denial?” she managed. “Promise me you’ll defy
them all, that we can be together?”

“I promise,” Tom said, his voice still thick with passion.

They kissed again and then fell asleep curled into each
other. Harriet’s last thought before she gave into unconsciousness was that he
hadn’t even attempted to drink her blood.

“Wake up Harriet.”

Harriet heard Tom’s voice and her eyes snapped open. She
instantly remembered all that had happened, and hoped he wasn’t about to have
another of his changes of mood.

“God you look beautiful,” he sighed, catching sight of her
naked body sprawled on the bed, her carefully styled hair messed up and spread
around her head. “I’d love to keep you here for hours, but it’s almost dawn. I
have to get into my other bed now.”

Harriet looked puzzled, and he gestured sadly towards the
coffin. Harriet jumped out of bed and pulled on last night’s clothes. She was
astonished how energised she felt after what could only have been a few hours
sleep. Clearly vampire blood really did have rejuvenating powers.

Once she was dressed, Tom gave her a final kiss on the lips.
“Come and find me tonight. Whatever happens next, I’m glad we had that,” he
said.

Harriet’s head was whirling as she left him and climbed the
stairs to her room. She wanted to have a shower then spend some time alone to
get her thoughts in order. Instead, on the landing outside her room, she bumped
into Josh, who was already heading out for an early morning choir rehearsal.

“Last night’s clothes?” he asked critically.

“For what it’s worth, yes,” she answered, sounding angrier
than she would have liked to.

“So, did you spend the night with the blond rich wanker or
the dark haired posh twat?”

“I’m not even going to justify that with an answer,” Harriet
snapped, storming into her room and slamming the door.

***

Adelaide’s first experience of the Cavaliers was at their
summer party of 1983, the end of her second year at Oxford.

She’d been in love. With the city, with the University, with
her friends and above all with Sam, who she’d been together with for nearly two
years. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that could improve matters
was for Sam to do something sufficiently noteworthy to be accepted into the
Cavaliers. One of her best friends was dating a member and she was incredibly
jealous of the social prestige it had brought her and the doors it had opened.

“With my background that wouldn’t happen whatever I did,”
Sam had moaned when she’d brought the subject up.

“Oh don’t believe the stereotypes,” she’d snapped. “Contrary
to popular belief, as long as you’re willing to kowtow to tradition they care
more about where you’re going than where you’re coming from.”

He’d shrugged, and she’d continued to make her case. “You’re
clever, you’re handsome, you enjoy dressing up and everyone loves you. Let me
help you excel in something and they’ll snap you up.”

Deep down she’d known it was a lost cause, so when Jamie,
the Union Librarian, had bragged that he was in the running for selection and
invited her to the summer party, she’d been unable to refuse, even though she
suspected that his intentions were far from honourable. Sam had begged her not
to go, but she’d promised not to do anything that would upset him and he’d
relented, as he always did. She didn’t see why she should miss out on the event
of the year just because he hadn’t made an effort.

It was a fantastic party, right until the moment when the
inductees had had to select a partner. Jamie had called her up and she’d had a
momentary flash of panic, wondering what she’d be expected to do and how she’d
get out of it.

Then, Augustine had appeared. Immediately, she’d had a
strange feeling of recognition and been unable to stop staring at him, but busy
with the ceremony, he didn’t seem to have noticed her.

Adelaide watched as the members drank from the candidates
and made them drink their blood in turn. She’d been amazed that no one was
screaming, but glancing round saw that everyone was frozen as though in a
trance. Terrified, she’d decided that her best chance of survival was to
pretend that whatever they’d done to the others had worked on her. She assumed
a blank look and watched the cycle of blood exchange, trying hard not to faint
or call out. As soon as Augustine had started to speak however, she’d had a
strange feeling in her head, and almost immediately slumped to the ground.

She’d woken to find Jamie stood with his hands on her
shoulders. Suddenly, there was some kind of signal, and the old vampires leaned
forward and bit the dazed girls, before quickly thrusting the newly turned ones
onto them. Some of the new members hesitated, some outright tried to refuse,
especially where their partner was also their long-term girlfriend. Good old
Jamie had no such qualms. He sunk his teeth into her neck with vigour.
Adelaide’s resolve to stay quiet and pretend she was as out of it as everyone
else broke and she started to scream.

Tristan, the member in charge of that year’s proceedings
came over, held her head and tried to make Adelaide look at him, but she
wouldn’t be pacified. Tristan called for Augustine in desperation. He had
looked at Adelaide properly for the first time, and had momentarily frozen. The
next thing she knew Augustine had grabbed Jamie, dragged him off her and thrown
him half way across the stage. He bent and licked her neck to close the wound,
the tension on his face showing what a challenge it was not to start drinking
himself.

Tristan watched in amazement before scuttling away to tend
to Jamie and to give Augustine some privacy.

“Who are you?’ whispered Gus, wide-eyed.

“Adelaide French,” she replied, trying to sound confident,
though her voice was shaking and her throat ached from Jamie’s attack.

“You remind me of the first person I ever killed. Outside of
the battlefield at least. She was my wife. I was made to drain her in order to
complete my transformation, and I couldn’t forgive myself for centuries.
Perhaps letting you go will be some kind of recompense.”

She hadn’t known how to even begin replying to that and had
simply nodded.

“I’m going to drive you back to your college,” Augustine
continued. “By rights I should wipe your memory, but I want you to remember me,
and I’m sure no-one would believe you anyway. Promise me you’ll say nothing.”

She started to promise, but suddenly remembered where she’d
seen him. Not in a past life, but in the Financial Times. He was the head of
one of the country’s biggest stockbrokers, the place she was hoping to work.

“I’ll say nothing if you get both me and my boyfriend onto
the Meridian and Lamb training scheme.”

Looking at him to gauge his reaction, she saw to her
surprise that he was smiling. “You have her personality too. I think we have a
deal Adelaide. Now get us both another drink!”

She poured herself a much-needed brandy, took a swig of it
and passed another glass to Augustine.

“Would you mind awfully if I were to put you under again
whilst we finish here? I promise you won’t get hurt.”

Not wanting to push her luck too far, she’d nodded her
assent. He touched her head and the woods started to spin.

When she woke, she found herself sat in his Bentley. They’d
driven back to her college, talking and talking. Part of her was terrified, but
on the whole she’d felt oddly comfortable and the conversation had flowed.
Almost too soon for her liking, they were back to Somerville.

Once parked, he asked if she’d let him try just a little of
her blood. “As you’ve seen,” he said, “I can control people’s thoughts and
actions to a certain degree, but I promise I won’t use this power on you. You
can make your own choice.”

Somewhat against her better judgement, she’d silently
nodded. He’d leant in, gently licked her neck, and then slowly let his fangs
sink through the skin and into the vein. She gave a little yelp at the moment
of penetration, but after that, it didn’t hurt at all. She closed her eyes, and
enjoyed the feeling of relief, of closeness and almost of being cleansed. I was
difficult to keep track of time but it could only have been a few moments
before he pulled away.

“Thank you,” he sighed. “Please let me return the favour. I
have no intention to let you take enough to effect a change, but it’s a mark of
respect to let someone drink our blood, and not just use them for sustenance.”

A firm believer in trying everything once, she nodded again
and when he opened the vein in his wrist clamped her mouth to the wound and
drank. It had tasted more like mulled wine than blood, rich and slightly spicy,
although there was a metallic undertone. She kept drinking, and quickly began
to feel very relaxed and content. After a few moments, he pulled his arm away.
He gave her the briefest kiss on her lips, licking away the last traces of
blood as he did so, and then was suddenly all business again.

He opened the door and let her out. He wished her good
night, said what a pleasure it had been to meet her and assured her that the
job offers would be in the post. Already, the horror of what she’d seen at the
party was fading. It felt like a bad dream and Augustine the only reality.

After a few seconds, he’d called her back. “Take this,” he’d
said solemnly, taking a pendant from around his neck and pressing it into her
hands. “I don’t ever want that sort of situation again, some young upstart
thinking that they can help themselves to your blood. Wear this always and
no-one will dare.”

Chapter Nine

H
arriet woke at lunchtime. She bounded out of bed
and was showered and dressed in record time. She didn’t feel tired or hungover
in the slightest and which puzzled her until she remembered her taste of
George’s blood.  The night before had definitely been the oddest of her life.
She considered calling one of her friends, but didn’t know where to start with
an explanation of what had happened, so instead went for a walk by herself
until it was time for her tutorial.