At last the dreaded day comes. Wednesday 5th October. My father is ecstatic of course. Me, not so much. Jake even mentioned it in passing when we were supposed to be discussing how the sine of a shape can allow us to make assumptions about its properties. Harriet and Jamie have been telling me to fake my death, cut my foot off and throw up, but I can't avoid it. My life appears to have just gone right and now some bastard and his prissy parents are inviting me around. A goddamn hot bastard though! Even the thought of him makes me feel good. But, he is trouble in a god's body. I know that. But I am drawn to him and his family, which is probably not a good thing.
The journey is short, but full on. People are hurrying by, chatting, smoking, drinking. Girls hang around,waving to boys. Strippers fill the streets and the bright lights shine upon them like some slutty god from heaven. One of the girls I recognize goes to my school and is in the year above me. She is snogging another boy in my year at school. Its lucky I can't hear the filthy words she is saying. My dad is chatting with the man driving the taxi, while my mum has a book out. I sigh. The scenery suddenly changes. Posh, refined men and women are walking around the area. The taxi slows and I almost throw up again. This must be where the Deans reside. Seems strange to me that such terrifying boys and girls live in a posh penthouse on 25th. My mum squeezes my hand gently. She can probably read my emotions, I'm like an open book to her. "Lovely place," my father comments as the taxi driver opens the door for me and my mother, "Ah, Ben, I owe you... 30 dollars?" he says as he sees the driver hold out his hand for the dosh. "Lucky for Gerald and Katherine to have such a lovely place," my mother agrees, then raises her eyebrows at me, "Isn't it Lauren?" "Um...," I falter, "Yeah. Dad you said you wanted to say something," I go on, changing the subject. "Yes, you're right," my dad recalls, a little surprised, "This could be the biggest deal of my whole career. I am relying on you two to make the best of every conversation that the Deans offer. Ask questions, tell lies. If I'm lucky, I could have the deal and cash signed before the end of the evening. Got it?" he says the last sentence slightly threateningly, as if we are going to question him. My mum and I nod. Dad nods in approval of our understanding and, walking up to the steps of the large house, he rings the doorbell.
After what seems like an age, the door is answered. A middle-aged women who looks like a crow who has painted itself white and the paint has flaked off in places stands there. She looks nice enough, except she has a demeanor of mystery and woe around her. Her lip is thinner than thin and her hair is set in a curly grey bouffant style. She carries a brown satchel and has a pair of silvery blackish spectacles that are perched on her nose precariously. "Good evening," she greets, with a tone that is slightly harsh and stern, "My name is Katherine Dean. I trust you had a nice journey?" "Yes, thank you," my father replies, "My name is James Groves, head of GrovesLimited, I am here to discuss a-" "I know why you are here," Katherine interrupts sternly, "Come in, it is cold out there." Slightly surprised, my father follows the woman in. The hall is long and filled with beautiful oil paintings, which all seem to feature blood in some way of another. A man's head, filled with red nightmares, a countryside scene with red grass and orange trees and last, but not least, a huge family tree, stretching the room. It all seemed so mystical and yet so magical. The only colorful scene was a beautiful vineyard near a set of white topped mountains with huge gulleys. It was a pretty picture. "Where our main vineyard is. Montana is so much better for growing grapes, me and Gerald feel," Katherine indicates to the lush greenery around it, "Really does paint a picture. This way." She leads down a somewhat lighter corridor towards the main living area of the house. Bookshelves full to the brim line the walls. She stops at the end of the passage and goes to the nearest shelf. Instead of picking a book off, she presses hard on the spine of "David Copperfield" and then the bookshelf moves into the floor. She grabs the handle of the door in its place and opens it.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Blood
VampireTwo parts. Two stories. Two points of view. Two outsiders trying to fit in in their respective worlds. One extraordinary event will bind them together. They should not be together. They should be enemies. Can they be more than friends?
