16

The dark interior of the van stank of old blood mixed with sweat and the rust-like stench of the vampires surrounding me. I knew there was one sitting either side of me. I’d seen them getting in before me but I couldn’t see them now. The windows into the front had been blacked up to prevent me from seeing where we were going.

“Where are you taking me?” I tried.

They ignored me.

“Why me? What do you want from me? At least tell me that?”

Silence. They didn’t even make conversation with each other. I could make out muffled conversation from the front of the van but couldn’t work out what was being said.

I gave up trying to get any information out of them and instead, sat in terror, flinching each time one of them moved. There was also some kind of crazy cold, weakness, seeping into my body. My muscles ached but it wasn’t just from the fight, it was more like the kind of ache from an approaching bout of flu. Perhaps I was getting sick? My throat did feel kind of scratchy and I sniffed away a runny nose. Damnit! If I had flu, it would seriously hinder my chances of escaping these bastards.

I reached up to touch the dog collar like metal band around my neck. It was encrusted with something course, like tiny gems or sand and felt cold and heavy around my neck. I fingered it, trying to remove it. But it wouldn’t budge. It was attached at the back with some type of metal lock. What was it made of anyway? I started to panic and coughed, breathing deeply as I yanked at it, in desperation. After several minutes of useless flailing around, I gave up and slumped down lower, blowing my hair out of my face. Not only was the dog collar locked in place, it was also getting heavier and heavier. I imagined poison, leaching out of it and through my pores. I shook the paranoid thoughts from my head. If they wanted to kill me, there were easier ways of doing it. Plus that other vampire had said that Hugh wanted me alive and untouched.

I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Carlotta. Hugh Beaufort was a human trafficker who supplied other vampires with live humans to feed on. Is that why they’d taken me? Was I going to be added to Beaufort’s stable of humans? But why had they gone to so much trouble to take me? Surely there were other humans out there who would’ve been way easier to capture. Hugh wants her alive and untouched. He wanted me specifically. Why?

The sounds of London gave me some comfort from my dark ruminations and I listened carefully, trying to work out where we were. Buses driving past, a distant police siren, a man shouting in a guttural language - perhaps Arabic? It didn’t matter, I was still no closer to guessing where we were or where we were going. Each time the van turned a corner, I tried to see if I could catch any glimmer of light or location but it was no use, I couldn’t see a thing.

After a while the sounds of the city gave way to less traffic and the purring sound of an engine on a motorway. We were either heading to the suburbs or out of London altogether. The thought made my spirits sink. The further away from central London we were, the harder it would be for me to escape.

Cold dread covered my body like wet clay. I was feeling sicker and sicker and the cold dog collar wasn’t helping. Now my nose was blocked and running and my throat felt like I’d swallowed hot gravel. My thoughts turned as dark as the interior of the van. I would die, exsanguinated by blood thirsty monsters. My family would never find out what had happened to me and I’d never be able to clear my name. People back home would probably think I’d gone off the deep end, in London and gone crazy, like my Mam, just as they’d always thought I would. My eyes welled with tears and I sniffed. As I swallowed, I winced with pain - it was as if shards of glass were shredding my throat. Assaulted by my own dark thoughts, I curled up into a ball and wept.

After a while, the van started to slow down and the traffic noise subsided. We must be on quieter, residential streets. As we turned, the sound of pebbles, crunched underneath the tyres. The driver parked the van and I was rough housed out by one of the burly vampires who had put me inside. He was well built, with a bent nose and cauliflower ears. He must have been a fighter or maybe, a rugby player, when he was a human. Cauliflower ears noticed me studying him and licked his lips before winking at me, lasciviously. I curled my lips in disgust. He pushed me forward and I stepped onto a vast driveway, surrounded by trees and well kept grounds. Up ahead stood a mansion that was big enough to be a hotel. Were we still in London? I couldn’t tell but with a house this big, it was unlikely. I looked up at the sky and saw the familiar, lack of stars I saw from my balcony. If it wasn’t London, it was close.

Illuminated by lights, all the way along the driveway, two men stood waiting on a grand set of sandstone steps, which led up to the front door. They wore black business suits with ear pieces, making them look like celebrity bodyguards. Their hard, angular faces looked incapable of smiling.

The man on the right had dark brown hair, slicked back with gel. His dark eyes flashed with malevolence as they looked me up and down. His gaze contained an unholy mixture of lust and contempt and he looked away, briefly when I met his expression with defiance.

The man on the left had white blonde, heavily-gelled hair, translucent, pale skin and a pointy nose. He reached up to touch his ear piece and I noticed an expensive-looking, platinum, chronometer watch glinting at his wrist. His piercing blue eyes fixed on me, in a manner of a carnivore marking his prey. “Good Evening Ms Ryan. My name is Peterson. This is my associate, Mitchell.” A white plume of breath emanated from his thin lips. “We are your bodyguards. We’ve come to escort you to your guest suite.” I hadn’t expected the Swedish accent that came out of his mouth but it explained his blonde features.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Guest?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Mr Beaufort will explain everything over dinner. Come along.”

They walked forward and grabbed each of my arms, leading me onwards. I tried to struggle but by now I was weak, sweating and felt like I had a temperature. My feet dragged, marking a trail of bare soil, through the pebbled driveway, as my head lolled. I could barely keep my eyes open.

Mitchell barked a curt order at the Draculs who had transported me here. “Leave.” His tone and general manner reminded me of an attack dog.

They got back into the van. My spirits sank lower as I watched my means of escape speeding down the driveway, off into the night.

Mitchell propped me up as Peterson pressed the doorbell and waited, with his hands behind his back. The door opened and a mid-thirties, fair-complexioned black woman with jet black, straightened hair, tied up into a messy bun stood there. She wiped her hands on a white apron, tied at her waist. “Ah Ms Ryan, you’ve arrived.” She had a thick, west country accent. Was she a vampire? A quick whiff in her direction told me she was human! My curiosity was peaked and my eyes immediately went to her neck but I saw no bite marks there.

She leaned forward and grabbed my upper arm, causing me to flinch. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. I’m one of Mr Beaufort’s cooks - you can call me Sally. Normally Jethro, the butler would answer the door but he’s attending to some other guests of Mr Beaufort. Come on then.” She pulled me into the hallway. Mitchell and Peterson followed, silently behind. Inside, I was greeted by the sight of polished oak floorboards, covered by a large, persian rug and a huge chandelier, which dangled above a central staircase. Oil paintings hung on each wall and soft classical music played around me. The warmth of the house made my muscles instantly relax but I still felt the discomfort of the choker, weighing heavily on my neck. The Draculs had implied that it was a means of blocking my powers and I felt the truth of this with every step I took. It was as if my very life force was draining from me, along with my powers.

Maybe Sally could get it off? She seemed friendly. It was worth a try. “Could you get this thing off me?”

She pursed her lips and fiddled with her hands, inside her apron. “Oh no. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t even know how to. You’ll have to wait for Mr Beaufort. He’ll be joining you for dinner.”

I felt my eyes widen. Dinner? Was I the dinner? The icy hand of fear seeped through my core as my gaze darted, from left to right. My belly did somersaults and my palms felt clammy. The imposing figures of the two bodyguards were still behind me - there was no way I could escape.

“Do you like shepherd’s pie?” Sally turned around and smiled, knowingly, at me.

Did I?!

I’d never been one to lose my appetite due to emotional distress and today was no different. In spite of my fear, my stomach rumbled as my nostrils picked out the enticing smell of buttery mashed potato mixed with rich beef and gravy.

But wait - if Beaufort was a vampire, why did he need a cook? Once again I wondered if I was the dinner. Was this what he did? Capture and then ‘invite’ humans over to his house as his ‘guests’, before enriching their blood, with good food and draining them? My legs got even weaker and I wiped sweat from my face. I was reminded of the children’s fable of Hansel and Gretel, only in my story, I didn’t have a clever sibling, with me, to free me from the cannibal’s clutches. If Beaufort planned to devour me, I was alone and powerless to stop him.