Oxford Blood (29 page)

“No seriously, what happened? Don’t tell me you got
stabbed!”

Instead of replying, Tom placed his hands on Ben’s shoulders
and looked deep into his eyes. “I’m sorry to have to do this,” he said quietly.
Within seconds, Ben’s expression became blank.

“Ben, can you hear me?” Harriet asked. She didn’t know
whether to be relieved or terrified when he didn’t answer.

“Would you feel more comfortable if you watched or if you
left the room?” Tom asked in the same strained voice.

“I’ll stay. I think I owe him that much.”

She closed her eyes however as Tom took hold of their
friend, tilted his head back and bit down. He only drank for a minute or two
before licking the wound closed and calling Harriet over.

“Take him back to his room. If all’s gone to plan, he won’t
remember coming to see me at all. I didn’t take much and he’s fit enough that
it shouldn’t have too much effect on him. Maybe try and feed him some of your
iron tonic though.”

Harriet nodded. She couldn’t quite bring herself to speak.
“I’ll come back once I’ve got him settled.”

As Tom had promised, Ben had suffered no obvious mental or
physical ill effects. She got him to his room before the lingering effects of
the mind control wore off. Initially, he seemed puzzled, but quickly launched
into a discussion of what had gone wrong with Olamide and Callum. It seemed as
though her telling him about the break up was the last thing he remembered.

After she’d checked that Tom was alright, (he was already
looking healthier), Harriet made her way to the Union. She wasn’t in the mood
for it to say the least, but as a Secretary’s Committee member she was expected
to help out at all the events and that night there was to be a strawberries,
champagne and chamber music party. If she kept missing events she’d be putting
herself in a bad position for running for Standing Committee at the end of that
term, and for all the problems with the Union, she couldn’t quite resist the
lure of doing so.

Pouring endless glasses of champagne was oddly therapeutic.
With half an eye on the election, she smiled and chatted to all the party
guests. Everyone was discussing the boys who’d died, various theories floating
around. Despite his position as President-Elect, there was no sign of Edward,
who was utterly distraught at Crispin’s death.

“What do you think?” Catherine asked her during a rare quiet
moment. As Secretary, she was rushed off her feet, but her general cheeriness
wasn’t slipping at all.

Harriet shrugged. She didn’t want to get drawn into the
discussion. She changed the topic in the most effective way she knew, asking
Catherine how her election plans were going. She was intending to run for
President from the position of Secretary, relatively unusual when the contest
was normally fought between the Treasurer and Librarian, but not unheard of,
especially for someone as popular as Catherine.

“Really well actually. I definitely think I’m in with a
chance of making President. Our events are great this term – thanks for all the
help with that by the way. And Joanne’s an absolute sweetheart, but I don’t
think she’s really leadership material if you know what I mean.”

Harriet did know. Catherine had an aura about her that drew
people in and made them love her. Joanne, the current Treasurer, was probably
more organised but tended to stay in the background. For personal reasons, the
Librarian had decided not to stand. Furthermore, the Cavaliers, rather
unusually, weren’t putting up an official Presidential candidate that term, but
they were nominally supporting Catherine, which could only help.

“So are you definitely going to go for Standing?” Catherine
asked, affecting nonchalance but clearly desperate for an answer. “I’d love you
on my slate, but positions are filling up fast so I need to know. We’re really
strong, and I think you’d be in with a chance of topping the Committee.”

Harriet didn’t want to think about that right now. She
wanted to clear away the last glasses then go home to Tom to sleep. On the
other hand, she didn’t want to mess Catherine around, so took a deep breath and
nodded.

“I’d love to. I think you’d be a great Pres, and I’ll
definitely put in the effort for you.”

Catherine squealed and hugged her.

***

By the end of the week, the deaths of the two Cavaliers had
been oddly hushed up. Since the initial flurry of police and press activity on
May Day, there’d been no obvious legal investigation and no further news.
People even stopped talking about it. It was the first real taste of the Cavalier’s
power and influence that she’d seen.

Each night that week, she brought another friend to Tom -
first Caroline, then a much cheered up Olamide, and finally Josh. Conscious of
the latter’s dislike of her boyfriend she’d hesitated before involving him, but
had ultimately decided it was necessary. After Josh, she’d insisted that she
was strong enough to for him to feed from her again. Tom had agreed.

“It’s so good to taste you again, and to have someone who’s
conscious after all the mind control and random donors,” he said, coming up for
air momentarily before suckling gently at her neck once again.

By the end of that night, he seemed entirely recovered. All
trace of a scar had disappeared, and once again, he was able to pick her up as
though she weighed nothing. He was spoiling to for revenge on George, but
Harriet begged him to be careful.

“You’ve got me,” she said. “You know that means you’re
already the real winner in his eyes.”

***

“Good news,” said Caroline, cheerfully walking into
Harriet’s room without preamble the next morning. “Ben got the card this
morning. He’s invited to the summer party, which I guess must mean he’s made it
to the final ten. He’s going to be made a Cavalier, I just know it.”

Harriet had been expecting this. After all, Ben had had some
successes and no major slips ups, and his connection to her could hardly have
hurt his campaign. Nonetheless, hearing the news made her sick to her stomach.
At best, Ben was going to become a vampire; at worst, he’d just be killed. Or maybe
it was the other way round.

As for Caroline, if the Cavaliers turned Ben, he’d be made
to drain her to the death. Some of the committee would be delighted with that
she was sure. There seemed to be a belief, presumably originating with her
stepfather, that it was good luck for a vampire’s first transforming kill to be
someone they loved.

“You can’t let him go,” Harriet said, more sharply than
she’d intended. “And you certainly can’t be his guest.”

“What do you mean I can’t?” said Caroline. “I thought you’d
be pleased. Surely you’re going. I thought we could go shopping and get ready
together.”

She still thinks of the Cavaliers as a normal dining
society
.
She thinks that the party is going to be a bit of a laugh and
something she can brag about. She wants Ben to be selected for the prestige,
but has no idea what that means.

 Harriet considered telling Caroline the whole truth, but
quickly realised that there was no way on earth she’d believe her. She’d
struggled to comprehend it herself even though Tom had told her about vampires
in the aftermath of George’s attack, with his fangs showing.

“It’s too dangerous,” she said, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Dangerous? What do you mean dangerous?” Caroline asked
suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t say any more than that.” Harriet
wished she could, but couldn’t think of any sensible and believable way to warn
her friend off.

“Do you know what I think?” Caroline said, angry now. “I
think you love having a Cavalier boyfriend. I think it makes you feel all cool
and important. And I think you don’t want anyone else, not even your best
friend, muscling in on your territory.” She glared at Harriet and turned to
leave.

“Caroline, wait!” Harriet shouted after her. “It’s not like
that I swear. Surely you know me better than that. I’m not that much of a
bitch.”

Caroline turned back around. “Well no, but what do you
expect me to think? Ben’s been given a great opportunity and you’re making
weird comments about mysterious dangers and begging me not to go. Now, I
realise you know more about the society than me, so if you know something, tell
me about it properly, otherwise just leave it and I’ll see you there.”

Harriet took a deep breath. “People die Caroline. Every year
at those parties, people die.”

Caroline walked back into her room and closed the door.
“People die. What do you mean? Do they overdose or something.”

Harriet wished it were that simple. “For goodness sake
Caroline, if it were just that sort of thing do you really think I’d be making
such a fuss? I trust you and Ben to look after yourselves. What I’m saying is
that people are killed.”

Caroline burst into laughter. “Killed? That’s ridiculous.
Are you winding me up or has someone actually tricked you into believing this?”

“It’s not a joke Caroline. They kill the unsuccessful
candidates and they kill most of the female guests. I know it sounds crazy but
I swear to you that it’s absolutely true.”

“Okay, Harriet darling, just calm down. I can tell from the
way you’re shaking that you totally believe this but it can’t be true. We’re
talking about a student dining society, not MI6 or a crazy cult or something.”

Harriet couldn’t think what else to say. She looked around
her room, stalling for time. Suddenly, a photograph caught her eye. It was her
and Caroline in their Halloween outfits. She had a flash of inspiration.

“Don’t you remember what happened the first time I met
George?”

“Not really. You bumped into him in a club and then brought
him back with you.”

Harriet stared at her. Had she really forgotten the rest of
it?

“No, wait, I remember now,” Caroline said suddenly, her
voice strained and odd. “You told me that he attacked you with a knife. That’s
so weird, why would I forget that?”

“That’s right,” Harriet said, lifting up her hair to show
what appeared to be a scar from the attack. In actual fact, it was marks from
Tom’s recent feeding, but it had the required effect on Caroline, who looked
utterly horrified. “If he did that, is it really much more of a stretch of the
imagination to believe that they’re all a bunch of maniacs?”

“I suppose not, but surely they wouldn’t be able to keep it
secret. All the candidates are popular and successful. Most of them have
powerful families. If they kept dying questions would be asked.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it’s true. You
and Ben need to stay away. If I’m wrong, the worst that happens is you miss a
fun party. If I’m right, you’ll avoid being killed. It’s hardly a difficult
decision.”

“This is all too strange,” said Caroline, opening the door
to leave again. “I need to talk to Ben about it. We’ll both see you for dinner.
If you can think of anything else to prove all of this, that’d be helpful.
Right now I’m off to rehearsals.”

With that, she walked out. Harriet hoped that Caroline had
taken her message to heart and would avoid the party, along with Ben. That
would be two less people to worry about, but it didn’t bring her any closer to
a solution regarding how to stop the whole thing.

***

The next week brought the election. There was less
controversy than the term before. Catherine won President easily and Harriet
topped Standing, with a little help from the vampire vote. By the time the
campaigning had finished, all of the first years had began to tone down the
summer fun and make at least a token effort to begin revising for prelims, the
end of year exams that would test everything they’d studied since October. It
was hot and crowded in the library, and every time Harriet tried to remind
herself of the finer points of the Reformation or women throughout history, her
mind would wander back to the Cavaliers’ party and how to stop it. She had no
viable ideas, and despite his promises, Tom wasn’t being much use. It was even
worse when she tried to revise the first term’s Civil War work, as she couldn’t
stop the flashbacks.

 Caroline wasn’t being openly hostile but was quite clearly
avoiding her. Olamide had practically doubled the amount of time she spent
studying, something that Harriet could barely believe was possible. She
appeared to be channelling all of her hurt over the breakup with Callum into
her work. As a law student, Ben was free of prelims. He’d done well in the
Summer Eights rowing competition and was now spending most of his time lounging
around in the sun and going to parties, to the envy of everyone else.

It was almost a relief when the exams actually started. It
was rather surreal to dress up in sub fusc, the required outfit – white shirt
tied with a ribbon, black skirt, black tights and shoes and of course the gown.

It was traditional to wear a white carnation for the first
exam, a red one for the last one and pink ones in the middle, all purchased by
friends and given as a sort of good luck gift. Josh brought her a white one,
Olamide a pink and Tom gave her a deep red carnation.

The sense of oddness wasn’t helped by the fact that the
exams took place in huge rooms in exam schools, a suitably grand building full
of oil portraits of Victorian aristocrats which overlooked the nervous
students. Harriet wondered whether any of them were paintings of anyone she
knew.

Somehow, Harriet managed to push her worries about
everything else out of her mind for the duration of the four three hour exams.
Her answers were far from being the best essays she’d ever written, but in the
circumstances, she was extremely proud of herself.

The sense of joy and freedom when the exams were over was
palatable. All of the history students went for drinks still wearing their
gowns. In her excitement and relief, Caroline even forgot she was avoiding
Harriet and they had a civil if rather drunken conversation in the Grand Cafe.
She wouldn’t be swayed on the subject of the party however.