Hupotasso (Vampire Bachelor Games #2)

23

23

I don’t pause. I don’t second-guess myself or allow my fears to paralyse me. I simply lean over and tip the contents of the vial into Caroline’s sangria when her back is turned.

But I do squeak in surprise when she drains her glass and drops instantaneously to her knees, her hands to her throat.

I step back fast in case she jumps at me, but her gasps and wide eyes make it clear that whatever was in that vial was made to knock out vampires rapidly.

Groaning, she falls onto her face and lies still.

I don’t know how long I have until she wakes, but I take action quickly while I still have the nerve, dragging her behind the couch before making for the door.

Mid-stride I halt as her phone rings.

“Oh shit.”

I stare down at the offending device.

‘Should I answer? Can I do her accent well enough to pretend to be her?’

I make up my mind when I see it’s a Barcelona number. It has to be the restaurant.

‘Please let it be the restaurant.’

“Hello?” My voice shakes and I clutch my throat like an actress in a Hammer horror as I wait to hear who’s on the other end of the line.

“Angelina,” Isabel’s mother says firmly, “send a photograph of the vampire.”

She hangs up.

Without pause I take a photo of the prone Caroline and forward it.

A long, long minute passes where a million scenarios go through my mind. Everything from the police breaking down the door to Caroline springing up and sucking me dry.

Finally, the phone rings again, and the voice on the other end of the line causes me to cry out and choke up immediately. There’s no mistaking it. We’d spent many hours talking and joking during The Games before that fateful night.

“Isabel?”

“Yes.”

“How? Why? What?”

“Listen. We needed to know you were serious. You’ve given the vial to the blonde, and now I’m ready to offer my help.”

“I thought you were dead. I felt so guilty, even though, even though…”

“Even though I was trying to kill you,” she half-laughs. “ I feel guilty about that, Angelina. I told you then that I didn’t want to do it. But we don’t have time for this. Your vampire is on his way. He’s just landed. I can’t get you out of there, Angie. You’re going to have to go back with him and wait for our instructions.”

‘He’s coming here?’

“Oh, God. No!”

“Yes.”

“He’s going to get me pregnant and then kill me, Isabel!”

“What?”

“He thinks I’m a spy. He thinks I’m working with Count Spider Dartlore, the Free Men, and the fucking Guardians of the Galaxy for all I know. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t want me. He’s going to KILL ME!”

“He won’t kill you. He loves you.”

“Isabel,” I breathe out slowly and deeply. “Vampires don’t love humans. You and The Free Men must know that; your institution has been fighting them for centuries. He literally told me he’s going to arrange for an accident after I’ve given birth. He told me the day he married me. Please, please, you have to get me out of here.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a long, long time, and my nerves eventually get the better of me.

“Isabel?”

She sighs.

“We’ll do what we can, but you have to sit tight, play the wife. It isn’t going to be easy.”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” I squeak as tears well. “I’ve been playing wife. I can’t, I just can’t do it any longer, Isabel.”

I start to cry in earnest as my feelings begin to overwhelm me. Relief that she’s alive, self-pity that I can’t escape, and fear for the future. But as pathetic as this is, my brain is also furiously buzzing as I try to think of another way, any way, to have her help me get out of the mess I’ve put myself in.

“Phil,” I eventually gulp. “Phil’s part of your group. Can he put me in touch with Yin?”

“Yin pretty much broke every bone in Phil’s body when she found out about his role in The Games,” Isabel snorts. “So, no.”

“But,” I speak quickly, my words tumbling over each other as they come to mind, “she can help me. She will, I know she will. She just needs to know my predicament. Please Isabel, just get word to her, please.”

“You need to go now, Angie. Make sure you destroy this phone so they can’t trace who you called. Don’t despair. We will come for you.”

She hangs up and I stare at the phone. There’s no use calling back, and she’s right; I have to destroy it. But having it in my hand after not being allowed a device for so long… the little devil on my shoulder whispers that I should use it again before destroying it.

‘He who hesitates is lost.’

I don’t hesitate. I dial my parents, telling myself I’ll just give them a quick update and reassure them I’m working on a plan to get out.

But I’ve called on a Sunday, and everyone’s at the house.

A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I picture the extended family; Mom and Dad, nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters-in-law, dogs under the table. Everyone gathered around laughing, sharing their news and eating Mom’s roast and apple pie.

God, how I miss that simple life now.

“No, Adam,” I sigh as I listen to his many, many suggestions for how he might be able to rescue me. “This is the royal family we’re talking about. No one gets in or out of that castle without Falcon’s personal security knowing about it. And I have a private guard, a vampire called Caroline.”

I look down at where she’s still lying unconscious and remind myself that I need to get off the phone soon. I don’t know what drug I’d slipped her, but I expect, being a vampire, it will wear off quicker than it might for a human.

“There must be a way around the guards, though,” Adam mutters. I picture his ruddy complexation, russett hair mussed as though it’s never been brushed, and sincere blue eyes. He was the Mr Fix-It-Man of brothers. Anything that broke when we were growing up, he’d fix it. Whether it was a Barbie who’d lost her head or a bike with a punctured tyre — Adam was a problem solver.

“There is,” I sigh, “but I need you and Dad to sit tight. I’m resourceful, you know that. I’ll find a way.”

“The media?” Someone chimes in. “We could contact a television station and tell them the truth.”

“They’re all owned by the vampires. There’s no point even trying with them.”

“But the baby,” Mom says from across the room, the speaker making it sound like she has her head in a bucket.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” I sigh. “I’m not pregnant yet.”

“If the vampire is on his way, you’d better go, love,” Dad chimes in. “We’re thinking of you; don’t think we’ve forgotten you. We’ll always be here. When you’re ready you just let us know and we’ll act, one way or the other.”

I wipe the tears as they stream down my face. Just speaking to them has enabled me to feel more normal, more grounded, than I have in months.

“I love you all,” I whisper, hanging up before they hear just how distraught I am and become even more concerned. The last thing I need is for them to get all gung-ho and storm the castle on their tractors or something incredible. I’d given them a rough rundown of what had occurred and where I was at, but I hadn’t mentioned The Free Men or Isabel. I’d just said I had friends who could help.

The phone is warm in my hand having been pressed close to my ear for so long, and I consider calling Sam before I destroy it, just to tell her I miss her. But the less people who know about what’s going on, the safer they are. I already feel guilty for saying what I did to my family.

Brushing the tears from my eyes I drop the phone and, picking up a small side table, smash the shit out of the device until it’s just a pile of glass and microchips and bits of plastic.

I’m puffing by the time I feel satisfied with its level of destruction and I’m standing over it, table still in hand, when the door swings open to reveal my husband.

Although I’d dreaded seeing him I drink in the sight of him now like a thirsty Bedouin seeing an oasis on the horizon. Despite everything, I’ve missed him. Even tonight, having obviously just got off the plane, he’s dressed impeccably and seems to fill the room with his presence. Part of me, a very small masochistic part, wants to fly into his arms. But I stand still. He’s no oasis. He’s a mirage. There’s no comfort or slaking of a metaphorical thirst with this man.

He seems to take everything in within seconds. Me, the table in my hand, the phone in pieces. For some reason he looks relieved to see me, but his eyes darken and shift quickly away from mine as he notices Caroline’s feet protruding from behind the couch.

Striding past me without a word, he leans down and presses two fingers to her throat, just under her jaw.

“What have you done?” He growls, his back still to me.

I roll my eyes.

It should be apparent to him by now that I’m going to do anything I can to survive.

“I’ve done what I needed to do to escape, obviously,” I shrug. “I’m not going to hang around for you to knock me up and kill me, Falcon. I’ve done nothing to deserve that.”

“Nothing,” he says quietly, straightening up and staring at me, his eyes hard, “except kill my cousin.”