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Authors: Georgiana Derwent

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BOOK: Oxford Blood
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“I’ll be okay. I need two things. Rest and blood. It’s
almost dawn, so for now I’ll settle for the former. Tomorrow night however you
might have to bring me people to drink from. I daren’t take more from you, and
even if I all but drained you it wouldn’t be enough.”

She kissed him then, allowing herself all the passion and
feeling that she’d carefully avoided with George. “Shush, save your strength.
I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I promise. Do you want me to stay with
you?”

“No, you should enjoy the choir and the sunrise. It’s the
main point of the evening after all. Close the lid and let me sleep. Then take
this key and lock my door from the outside.”

Harriet didn’t like the sound of that. Did he really think
someone was going to come and hurt him? She nodded, and after one last kiss,
awkwardly put the lid onto the coffin. It would have been too heavy normally,
but with the fresh dose of George’s blood, it wasn’t physically too difficult.
Emotionally was a different matter. Shutting her boyfriend into a coffin was something
she’d hoped never to have to do.

Trying not to think about the evening’s odd events, she ran
over to Ben’s staircase to see whether her friends were still there. She bumped
into them halfway, walking towards the cloisters to listen to the choir and see
the sunrise. She fell in with them and tried to act normally.

“Hey, I was wondering where you were,” Ola said, coming up
beside her. “I’ve managed to get two tickets to go up the Founder’s Tower to
get a better view. Do you want to come with me?”

Harriet wasn’t sure how she could just carry on as normal,
but nodded and followed her. The Founder’s Tower was smaller than the main
college tower that the choir would sing from, but still one of the highest
points in the city. She’d never been up it before as it wasn’t open on a
day-to-day basis.

Most of their group walked out onto the lawn at the centre
of cloisters whilst she and Olamide ascended the steep stone staircase. She was
glad she’d taken George’s blood – the state she’d been in before she’d barely
have been able to leave her room, never mind make the difficult climb. It was
worth it when they got to the top. She could see out across the city in all its
glory, bathed in the pre-dawn half-light. Always slightly fantastical, it
looked like a bizarre medieval toy town. Closer to home she could see the other
students milling around on the lawn below, clutching one last drink and
steeling themselves for the final part of a long night. She noticed two people
in white tie slumped in one corner of the lawn. They appeared to have passed
out drunk, and were face down so it was difficult to tell who they were. Could
they be Cavaliers? If so, they were taking a huge risk, staying out with only
minutes until dawn. There were other dining societies who might conceivably be
wearing white tie, but she hadn’t seen any around the college.

“Don’t look down there, look up,” Olamide said, turning her
around to face the larger tower. “Can you see Josh? They’re going to start
singing any minute now.”

Trying to ignore the feeling of unease, Harriet followed her
instructions. “It might just be the booze and sleep deprivation speaking but
this feels really magical,” she said.

Before she could reply, the choir began to sing in Latin,
their voices carrying over the college. As they sang, the sun began to rise,
turning the sky a beautiful shade of pink. There was just the music and the
dawn, and Harriet felt that the world was how it should be.

Within seconds however, the choir were all but drowned out
by the sound of screaming. Harriet rushed to the edge of the tower to look
down. The two bodies she’d seen were on fire. Too high to hear anything but
themselves, the choir kept on singing. As people panicked down below, they sang
the college anthem in their angelic voices.

Some students were running away, others were dashing over to
the burning boys, trying to pour water on them or smother them in a cloth.
Nothing helped. Within moments, they had burnt away to nothing. All that
remained were their canes, topped with the silver horse and sword sign. The
choir came to the end of their final song and the bells began to ring for 6AM –
the new day and the start of summer.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

“I
still don’t understand how it happened,” Caroline said, pacing around her room.
“How can two people just suddenly burn up?”

Everyone had been desperately tired, but no one could face
going to bed knowing what had happened. Usually the Cavaliers would have used
their mind control tricks to erase everyone’s memory of the horrifying events
and make them believe that Crispin and Peter had left the university or died in
an unfortunate accident, but the sunlight made it impossible. By now, the story
was all around the University, and the press was starting to get involved. It
didn’t help that both boys had been well known figures at Oxford. Crispin’s
father had been dead for three hundred years, but Peter’s was a noted lawyer.

“Someone must have doused them in petrol or something whilst
they were passed out,” Ben said. “Then tossed a lit match whilst everyone
concentrated on the singing.”

“Who on earth would do something like that though?” Olamide
said, shivering despite the morning’s warmth.

“Julia?” said Caroline, only half-joking. “She was furious
after the election. If anyone’s got it in for the Cavaliers, it’s her.”

“Oh come on,” said Josh. “Of course she was angry. Julia’s
lovely though. You never hear her say anything bad about anyone, never mind
decide to burn them to death.”

“Just because you’ve got a crush on the lovely Julia,”
Caroline said laughing. “I don’t really think she’s responsible, but you’ve got
to admit, that wasn’t just normal annoyance about losing an election. She
accused Edward of killing his sister in front of a hundred people.”

“What do you reckon then Josh?” Ben asked, curious.

“Gosh I don’t know. Probably just some random psycho. Is
Peter gay as well as Crispin? It could have been some sick homophobe.”

Harriet sat in silence. She was sure that whoever had killed
them was the same person as had killed Charles. Their bodies were too burnt for
anyone to tell whether they’d been drained too, but she’d bet her life on it.
At least Tom had been quite clearly out of action when it had happened, so
George could no longer attempt to accuse him.

Despite the shock of the double murder, Harriet was more
concerned with Tom’s condition. Despite everyone’s assurances that he’d be fine
given a few days, she found it difficult to believe. There was also the small
matter of feeding him. She’d promised she would do everything possible to help,
but it was going to be difficult to take her friends for Tom to use as blood
donors.

“Guys, we really don’t know and talking about it isn’t going
to help anyone. I say we ought to go to bed, get a few hours sleep and then get
on with the day,” Ola said wearily.

Everyone reluctantly agreed, although Harriet doubted anyone
would actually get to sleep with the images of the burning bodies floating in
their minds. Having drank George’s blood, she didn’t feel tired at all, so
despite it being the last thing she felt like doing, she prepared for her
tutorial instead, praying that she could avoid further flashbacks.

Somehow, she made it through the day. She was angry with
herself for having accepted the blood, but it certainly made everything
physically and mentally easier. With the lengthening days, it seemed to take
forever for darkness to fall. The moment the sun went down Harriet dashed to
Tom’s room. To her relief, he had got out of the coffin and was sitting up in
bed, although he looked even paler than usual, and extremely frail. She slipped
in beside him.

“How are you feeling darling?” she asked. She’d already
decided not to worry Tom more by mentioning the deaths.

Tom’s voice was weak, but he managed to sound cheerful. “I’m
recovering,” he said. “Wounds like that are hideous, but at least they remind
me of the benefits of being one of us. It’s humbling to think that an attack of
that sort would have killed me if I’d still been human. How are you? I’m so
sorry I took so much blood, and it was all for nothing.”

Cuddling up to him she softly stroked what was left of his
scar, amazed by how quickly it was healing. “I’m fine,” she replied, desperate
not to let him know she’d drank from George again. “I’m a little tired, but
nothing some iron tablets and a few quiet days won’t fix. In fact, you should
take more blood,” she said, tilting her head back to expose her neck.

“Not from you. It’s too risky. Are you still willing to
bring your friends?”

“I’m not sure I can bring myself to do that,” she said
apologetically.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable
with,” Tom replied. “I can see how it might feel like a betrayal. All I can say
is that it would help a lot and I’d only take a little, it wouldn’t hurt them.”

“If you really think it’s necessary I guess I could do it
this once. Are you strong enough to mesmerise them or do you want me to try to
explain?”

Tom frowned. “I’m not sure. We could perhaps tell Ben as
he’s a potential inductee, but explaining to anyone else is a bad idea. I’m
definitely going to struggle to put anyone under though.”

Harriet couldn’t see this ending well whatever they did, but
she couldn’t bear to see Tom in that state either. “I’ll go and get Olamide.
You’ve got to promise me you’ll be careful not to take too much though.”

“I’ll be careful. Other than when you drain someone, taking
a little from a lot of people gives more power than taking a lot from one
person. Remember your step-father at the Christmas party when he had just a
taste of everyone’s guest?”

Harriet shuddered at the memory. She hadn’t seen Gus since,
and wasn’t sure she could face seeing him again. Before she could change her
mind about feeding Tom, she got up and dressed, and then went off to find
Olamide. She was still feeling very uncomfortable about the whole plan – how
could she put a friend in that position? – but the frailty evident on Tom’s
face had convinced her that she had no choice. She’d just have to make it up to
them all somehow.

Olamide’s room was in the very centre of the college, in the
attic above the cloisters. The rooms there were atmospheric but cramped, with
sloping ceilings and heavy beams. As soon as Harriet reached the long corridor
outside Olamide’s room, she heard the shouting and froze. She knew she ought to
leave and come back later, but she couldn’t resist the temptation to listen.

Olamide and Callum, two of the quietest and calmest people
that she knew, were screaming at each other. She was accusing him of working
too hard and never having time for her or for fun of any kind. He was giving as
good as he got, saying she’d changed and was being led astray by her lazy
friends.

“Well, maybe it’d be easier for you to concentrate on
getting your top first if I was out of the picture,” Olamide shouted
hysterically. “I like to study too, but I can’t live with this pressure from
you. I think we should call it a day.”

Before Harriet could get away, a red faced Callum stormed
from the room. He gave Harriet an angry glance. “Go on then, go and tell her
how she did the right thing. This is all your fault, you and Caroline and your
frivolous ways.”

Harriet didn’t reply. Instead, she took a deep breath and
walked into her friend’s room. Ola was sobbing quietly. Harriet sat down and
put her arm around her, remembering how many times the steady, sensible girl
had comforted her in the middle of one crisis or another.

It took an hour to calm her down. Harriet had summoned
Caroline, who appeared with chocolate and a bottle of wine. For all that she’d
vowed to be ruthless in helping Tom, Harriet realised she just wasn’t cold
enough to allow Olamide to be fed off whilst she was in this state. She could
barely bring herself to leave the room.

“Ola, I’m so sorry to leave you love, but Tom is really
ill,” she said. “That’s what I was originally coming over to tell you. I’d
better check on him. I’ll come back and see how you’re doing later.”

It was going to have to be Ben she decided. As luck would
have it, she bumped onto him in the main quad, just heading back from a
training session at the gym.

“Are you alright Harriet?” he asked. “You look pretty
stressed.”

“Ola and Callum have broken up, and Tom is massively ill,”
she replied breathlessly, not having to fake the panic in her voice.
“Caroline’s with Olamide, I don’t think she wants to deal with anyone male at
the moment. Will you come with me to Tom’s room? It’ll do him good to have
someone other than me to chat to.”

Ben looked suitably shocked at both her announcements. “What
do you mean he’s ill? What’s wrong?”

“He was in a fight,” she said, sticking as close to the
truth as possible. “He got really badly beaten up.”

“He’s so strong though. I’d have thought he’d be able to
take anyone. Who beat him up? And why? And when did this happen?”

“It was George. Cavaliers George. It happened late last
night. I didn’t want to worry everyone any more this morning. As for why, I
don’t really know.”

To her relief, Ben didn’t ask any more awkward questions. He
hurried after Harriet, back to her and Tom’s staircase.

“Wow, you look like shit mate,” he said, walking in and staring
at Tom. “What the hell happened?”

“Come here,” Tom said. He was struggling with every word,
but his voice retained at least some of its commanding edge.

Wide-eyed, Ben obeyed, perching himself on the edge of the
bed. Tom reached out his arm, causing the covers to fall down, exposing his
chest. Ben immediately noticed the scar.

BOOK: Oxford Blood
11.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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