Ben and Grace were standing by the river in the exact same spot Ben had agreed to Darius’ deal. Once again, Kieron was running late. There were several other people loitering around and waiting for the riverboat to come and pick them up. Ben wasn’t sure how he was going to subtly watch the couple in such a confined space. He also wondered about how he was going to fit in on a riverboat cruise followed by a romantic meal on the grounds of a castle. The entire evening was planned for couples and everybody with tickets was there with their partner. Had Grace informed Ben exactly what the date was going to be he could have arranged for somebody to come with him.

“But then you’d be distracted and you wouldn’t be watching me properly, would you?” Grace said when he raised his concerns. She stared at him coquettishly, a half-smile tugging her lips. She clearly didn’t care about the awkward position she’d put him in, and yet something about that stupid little face she was pulling stopped him from being angry with her.

“God, you are such a selfish little…”

“…cherub,” she finished for him and then smiled sweetly.

“That wasn’t the word I was going for.”

He turned away and stared up at the Archbishop’s Palace. A grey stone building that loomed over the river walkway. It was more of a country manor than a palace, but maybe when it had been built palaces had been much smaller.

“Is that your dream house?” Grace asked, pointing up at the palace.

“What? No,” Ben scoffed. “I like the way it looks down over the river but that’s about it.” His own apartment also looked over the river and it had a balcony that afforded a better view. Not that the view of a murky brown stream of water was much to get excited about. In certain lights the river looked quite picturesque, but most of the time it just looked grim.

“What is your dream house then?”

Ben had never really thought about the kind of place he wanted to live in forever. He’d only ever thought about what he didn’t want and that was usually because the thing he had was the thing he didn’t want. “I don’t know. Maybe a big gothic mansion like a haunted house typed thing. Something with spooky vibes.” He smiled at her but her gaze was fixed on her phone and she was typing out a message rapidly. Ben’s smile melted away.

“I was listening. Kieron still hasn’t left, that’s all. Coven business,” she said. She tried to shrug it off like it was no big deal but Ben could see the hurt in her eyes despite her efforts to smother it. He understood what she was feeling. She wanted to be the most important thing to Kieron but he was putting his coven first. After what Grace had said about her coven being like family Ben wondered if she would have done the same thing.

“You want to live in a haunted house?” she said with a grimace.

“I don’t want it to actually be haunted.”

“Just creepy without ghosts. Will you have kinky dungeons too?”

He rolled his eyes and moved on. “What’s your idea of a dream house then?”

Her eyes drifted up to the sky as she conjured the image in her mind. As she spoke her lips twitched into a dreamy smile and it was clear that she had put more thought into this than Ben had. She’d probably been dreaming of it for years. “Something fancy and modern. Lots of windows. High up with a great view. It has to have the best bathroom.”

“Bathroom?” Ben said, smirking. The bathroom was probably the room he cared about the least.

“Yes! The bathroom has to be perfect. Lots of space. A walk-in shower and a huge bath. The really big ones that are like jacuzzis. You can just sit in them for hours and read.”

“Ah, you’re one of those girls,” said Ben, smiling knowingly.

“One of what girls?”

“The ones who spend all their time in the bath.” He’d dated a girl like that not long after he’d left school. She’d say she was going to have a bath and not come back for two hours. He got into the habit of using the toilet before she jumped in.

Grace’s phone buzzed and the sublime look on her face shattered as she raised the device. Behind her, people were starting to make their way onto the riverboat that had now arrived.

“Kieron’s not coming.” Her voice had turned from airy and fun to harsh and crushing in the space of a single text message.

“Why not?” He spoke lightly, aware of her mood shift and that he was on dangerous ground. He hadn’t known Grace long but he got the distinct impression that she was one of those people who could easily be pushed into a fiery temper tantrum.

She shook her head and her blonde hair, which had been curled for the occasion, bounced around her face. She was refusing to look at Ben and was staring at the palace walls instead. “He’s just busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. His sympathy was genuine but he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to waste an evening watching a romantic river date or suffer the misfortune of having to speak to Kieron again.

Grace sighed heavily and as she exhaled all of her disappointment seemed to leave her. “Oh, well.” She looked at Ben and flashed him a smile that failed to make it all the way up to her eyes. “It looks like you won’t have to stand by the bar like a loser. You can take his seat.” She turned and strode for the boat.

“Wait, what? There’s not really a reason for me to chaperone if Kieron isn’t here, is there?” Ben asked as he was forced to go after her.

“Is there something you need to be doing?” Her words were dripping with bitterness that warned Ben he was dangerously close to setting off the fireworks.

“Well, no,” he said. He’d already finished building his coffin and was now only waiting for a suitable time to bury himself alive in it; a task he was not looking forward to. It would likely have to wait until after he’d fulfilled his obligation to the Coven. He just knew that as soon as the dirt was on top of him Grace would text to tell him he was required.

“So what, you don’t want to spend time with me?” She turned back to him with a look of defeated acceptance that had permeated her whole body. She’d been rejected once already tonight, it was clear that she could not suffer it twice. And, if Ben was honest with himself, he actually did want to spend time with her. He remembered the fun they’d had playing pool until Kieron had shown up. This time he would not show up to ruin it.

“Of course I do.” His smile drew out one of her own and like sunlight chasing off the grey clouds, her sour mood evaporated. The tempest had been safely averted. “Get on the boat you sulky bitch,” he said and gave her a gentle shove onto the ramp.

“I am not sulky!” she said and her voice was infused with glee. Kieron’s absence had, for the moment, been forgotten.

“You’re not disputing being a bitch though?”

She pulled out the tickets and handed them to the stewardess. “Nope. Always best to be honest,” she replied.

The boat was nothing special but it had been decorated to ooze romance. Red sheer curtains hung over the windows, the material so thin that the river could still be seen from within. Faux candles adorned every table and were fixed to the walls casting the dining room in dim, warm light. Each circular table was draped in a rich red tablecloth and the velvet on the chairs was the same shade. With a touch of black and a few gothic additions, the boat would have looked like a vampire haunt.

Ben and Grace were shown to a table by one of the windows. The cool breeze felt quite pleasant until it increased in strength and the red curtain draped itself over Ben’s head. Grace erupted in a fit of giggles and by the time Ben had managed to free himself from the curtain he saw that her phone was in her hand and she was recording his entire ordeal.

“Enjoy that, did you?” he asked, smiling to himself as he pulled the curtain to the side and held it in place with a piece of ribbon that hung from the wall.

“I did,” she said. “And now I can enjoy it again later.” She locked her phone and placed it face down on the table.

“Pervert,” muttered Ben.

“That’s not what I—” She never got to finish her sentence because Ben plucked the single rose from the vase in the middle of the table and bopped her on the head with it.

“You’re such a child,” she said, but he could see the smile she was trying to suppress.

They ordered drinks and by the time the waiter had delivered them the boat was moving steadily down the River Medway. The view was pretty underwhelming, just various shops and apartment blocks. At one point they went past a man who was pissing up the wall of a pub. Maybe it would get better once they’d left the town centre.

“Do you really need my protection?” Ben asked. In the time he’d spent watching Grace on her dates with Kieron not once had even the slightest hint of danger presented itself. At one point Ben had suspected that Christine had asked him to chaperone the couple so Rik would be easy pickings, but they never made a move against the warlock.

“Probs not. But the Ringles are up to something. They’re a shady bunch, always have been. Mum doesn’t trust them so she’s not taking any precautions,” Grace said. She sipped at her multicoloured drink, enjoying the twisty straw a little too much. And she’d said he was a child.

“If the Ringles are so bad then why make a deal with them?”

Grace shrugged. “Mum doesn’t tell me all her plans. She only tells me what she thinks I need to know.” She stared into her drink pensively as if she could divine an answer from the liquid. “There were rumours that the Ringles were trying to steal something from all the covens. Maybe this is her way of finding out what that was. If we’re on the same side they’ll tell us what they’re up to.”

There was so much drama and politics in the supernatural world. Ben had naively thought becoming a vampire would give him special access to a world where he could do whatever he wanted. Instead he was in a world not much different from the human one, the only difference was increased danger.

“What do you think of the Ringles?” Calling them Ringles felt funny on his tongue; it seemed almost a pejorative. He wondered if they referred to themselves in the same way and if not, what they thought of the nickname.

Her top lip curled and she twirled her straw around in her glass. “They’re not my favourite people. The Ringlestone Coven is only little. It’s just Kieron’s family and even he doesn’t like them very much. His Uncles and cousins. There are about six of them in totes. His mum and dad are dead. He says his folks were nothing like his other relatives; they were like him. They had a bit of class.”

Ben smirked. “You think Kieron has class?”

“Compared to the other Ringles he’s like a prince. They’re like the English version of hillbillies.”

Ben had been to Ringlestone only a handful of times. It hadn’t been the nicest area to visit but he’d visited worse. That said, he had met a somewhat unsavoury man who’d tried to sell him a rusty motorbike. He wondered whether that man was connected to the Ringlestone Coven; he certainly fit the description of an English hillbilly.

“What’s so bad about them?” Ben asked. He glanced out the window as a group of children in kayaks went past. One of them was drenched and Ben assumed he had taken a dunk in the river. Despite his dishevelled appearance the kid still held himself with an excess of pride. Ben snorted with admiration.

“They’re just gross and rude.” She wrinkled her face up and shook her head. “I don’t even want to talk about them.”

“You’d better get used to them since they’ll be your in-laws soon enough.”

Grace shuddered and reached for her drink. “Don’t,” she said before taking a long slurp.

Smiling, Ben leaned back in his chair and once again gazed out at the dark water. “You don’t have to marry him you know,” he said, not intending it to sound as serious as it did.

“I know.” Her clipped tone ended the conversation with those two little words. Ben instantly regretted what he’d said and he felt the heat rising to his cheeks as the awkwardness set in.

Grace wasted no time in picking up her phone and was at once absorbed by the contents of her screen; the device cast a pale glow over her face. After a few minutes of tapping away she groaned and then dropped the phone worthlessly onto the table.

“I got fired,” she complained. She began fiddling with her straw.

“What?” If Ben remembered correctly, Grace worked for her mother. It seemed a bit harsh for her own mum to fire her — and by text message no less.

“In the game.” She pointed half-heartedly at her phone. “I spent ages putting my character through college and everything and then I got fired after a week.”

She looked around the boat sullenly. Ben stared at her in disbelief, struggling to comprehend that she was sulking because she’d been fired from a virtual job. Ben’s shoulders bobbed as he started to chuckle. Grace narrowed her eyes, clearly not sharing in his amusement.

“So, all those times that I’ve seen you completely absorbed by your phone you’ve actually been playing a game?”

“Yes. So?” A frosty chill was creeping over her but Ben couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face.

“I just thought you had a really active social life.”

“I talk to people sometimes. I can’t talk to them all the time. What would we even talk about?” She was growing more irritable with every word she spoke, if her lips got any tighter they’d vanish.

“Hey, I’m not having a go at you, I’m just surprised,” said Ben. The boat slowed and turned as it made its way toward the moorings at Allington Castle. This building provided the grandeur that the Archbishop’s Palace promised by failed to deliver. The great stone structure loomed impressively against the deep black sky. Rich lights illuminated the windows and Ben wondered what it would be like to live in an actual castle. Perhaps he should upgrade from his apartment which was starting to look pretty tiny in comparison to the castle.

“It’s a good game,” Grace said without much gusto. She too had been distracted by the sight of the castle at which they would be enjoying the second part of the date at. He wondered if she was wishing that Kieron were here to enjoy such a picturesque evening with instead of Ben.

Ben had mistakenly believed that the fancy dinner would be held inside the castle; as it turned out, the castle was a private residence and was not open to the public. A section of the grounds had been hired for the dining experience.

“Outside dining in March?” Ben said as he took in the sight before him.

An acre of grass just a few yards from the castle had been decorated with two-seater tables. Candelabras provided dim, flickering light all over the space and several log burners had been strategically placed to try and warm the area. Ben wondered how effective the log burners would be in such a vast space. Of course, the cold didn’t bother him being a vampire, but the time of year didn’t seem logical for humans who felt the pinch of cold in its fullness.

“Let’s get a table by one of the burners,” Grace said and immediately made her way to one such table. She stood by the table and it took Ben a good minute before he realised she was waiting for him to pull out her chair for her. “Thank you,” she said when he finally cottoned on.

“You’re welcome, my lady. Would you like me to cut your food when it arrives as well?”

“I shall think about it and let you know when it arrives,” she replied, and he genuinely wasn’t sure if she was joking.

“So, essentially, we’re having dinner in somebody’s garden.” He pointed up at the castle in which the residents were probably sitting down in their big old dining hall to have some dinner of their own.

“Are you jealous that you don’t have a garden this big?”

“I don’t have a garden at all.”

“Oh, that sucks.” She shook her head and nudged the wine bucket his way. Without even thinking about it, Ben picked up the bottle and began pouring them both a glass of the Cabernet Sauvignon. “I couldn’t live without a garden.”

“Do you like gardening?” He dumped the wine back in the bucket only then realising that Grace was training him like some kind of a butler.

“No, but I like being in the garden. Chilling on the grass with a book on a hot day.” She smiled to herself, no doubt picturing the scene in her head.

“You read?” Ben forgot to contain his surprise and the insult was immediately strewn across her face.

“Yes, is that so hard to believe?”

“No, no, of course not,” he said when he actually wanted to say yes. “Do you read on your phone?”

“Nope. I don’t like digital.”

“Really?” He had a hard enough time imagining her hands without her phone in them, let alone holding an actual book. “Paper books are better than digital. You just can’t beat the smell of a good book,” Ben said enthusiastically.

“I don’t smell the books because I’m not a weirdo,” Grace said and poked out her tongue before reaching for her drink.

“Hey, don’t knock it. Sometimes when you’re sitting in Costa with a good book you just can’t resist diving in for a sniff.”

Grace snorted out the wine she’d just sipped and the red liquid fountained back into her glass. “Oh my God, you must look like a right goon.”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” He truly didn’t. Smelling a good book was one thing that he just could not resist; even in a crowded coffee shop. He even sniffed books in the shop before he bought them sometimes. His smile slackened when he realised it had been too long since he’d found time to read at all. Becoming a vampire had robbed him of as much as it had given him. He used to work with an older man who had been fond of saying, “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.” Ben had always shrugged it off as yet another one of the man’s cliched sayings, but now it actually rang true.

The food was brought out of a huge gazebo that was stationed nearby. A plate of chicken covered in a rich orange sauce with a side of steamed vegetables was deposited in front of him. The scent rose up and flew smoothly into his nostrils awakening his taste buds even though he wouldn’t be able to consume even a bite of it.

The smile that had been forming on his face turned down. “You know I can’t eat this, right?”

Grace looked up from her own lasagne, brow crumpled in confusion. “Don’t you like chicken?”

“I love chicken. Sadly, I haven’t been able to eat any human food since becoming a vampire. My undead stomach refuses to keep it down.” He gave his belly a pat.

“Oh.” Grace leaned down and scooped her bag off the grass. She rifled around inside the bag, the items within clunking around as she pushed them aside. Finally, she pulled out a small vial of dark brown liquid. “I use this when I have a hangover. It stops you from chundering.”

Ben took the vial from her small hand and held it up to inspect. The fluid looked thick and gloopy and not at all appetising. In fact, it looked more like something designed to make a person vomit rather than the opposite. “How does it work?” he asked, reticent to tip it down his gullet.

Grace rolled her eyes, already bored of the matter. “You swallow it and then you don’t chunder all over the lovely tablecloth.”

“Yes, no, I got that. But my organs have transformed to be able to process blood instead of food. So, what will happen if I swallow food and then don’t vomit it back up?” Ben had a horrible image in his head of all the chicken sitting inside his stomach for eternity, unable to be broken down. Maybe he’d get an unending bellyache and would forever be known as the vampire with the eternal bellyache. Or maybe they’d just call him Bellyache Blake.

“Do you do this with everything?” Grace asked. She was prodding her lasagne with a fork.

“Do what?”

“Overthink everything. Do you make any decisions without worrying about all the things that might happen?”

“Well, yes.”

“It sounds exhausting. Just constant umming and erring. Swallow the potion and see what happens. It’s not that complicated.”

Ben looked again at the concoction in his hand. Grace had so far failed to convince him that it was all above board.

“Oh, fuck me!” she exclaimed loudly enough to garner the attention of the other diners. “All my mum’s potions are natural. They won’t cause any nasty side effects. If the food needs to come out it will when the potion wears off.”

She snatched the vial back from him and practically tore out the stopper. “Open up,” she commanded.

“Excuse me?” She was holding the vial out like it was a weapon she was threatening him with.

“Open your mouth. Now.”

She spoke with such force that his mouth opened of its own accord. Grace lifted herself up from her seat and leaned across the table. The whole time Ben stared stupidly at her, convinced that she was going to stop before completing the action. But she didn’t. Apparently oblivious to the other guests around them, she shamelessly fed the potion to him like he was a little boy under her care. Shock and disbelief were the only things that stopped Ben from pulling away.

The potion had the same texture as milkshake but with none of the flavour. Heat hit his tongue accompanied by an odd fruity taste. It was like drinking a disgusting shot of brandy. Grace obviously knew what was about to happen because she grabbed his chin and forced his mouth closed.

“Swallow.”

Instinctively, Ben went to argue, but she clapped her free hand to his mouth and held it tight. He forced the potion back and gagged the moment it hit the top of his throat. It was like trying to swallow snot. With one forced gulp, he sent it down his throat. Tears welled in his eyes and the heat travelled to his stomach and worked its magic.

Grace withdrew her hand and returned to her seat. “Did you need to make that so hard?”

The man on the neighbouring table muttered, “That’s what she said.”

Ben snorted, but the grin left his face when he turned and saw that almost everybody was watching him with mildly offended stares. They’d all witnessed his humiliating force-feeding debacle. His face turned a deep shade of maroon and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to speed away before he could suffer another moment of embarrassment.

“This might be the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me since I became a vampire,” he said.

“Don’t be such a child next time and it won’t happen,” Grace said. She flagged down a passing waiter. “Do you have any tomato sauce?” she said with not an ounce of shame.

The waiter looked at her like she’d just asked if she could take a dump in his shoe. “No, madam,” he said before making a brisk getaway.

“Ketchup on a lasagne? And you just called me a child,” Ben muttered. He was met with a sharp pain in his shin as Grace slammed her foot into him.

“Ow!”

“Aww, did I hurt the big bad vampire?” Her lips curled into a smile that made her eyes twinkle in the candlelight and Ben smiled back, unable to stop the expression from slithering onto his face. There was something so oddly endearing about her even if she had just kicked him.

“What?” she said, her tone demanding but her smile unwavering.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“I’m just… Let’s eat.”

He turned his attention to his food and speared a tiny piece of chicken onto his fork. The look Grace gave him warned him not to be so cautious so he added a few pieces of veg to the mix before popping it all in his mouth.

He was not prepared for the exquisite taste that burst over his tongue. The blood he’d been drinking for weeks always had a tinge of this flavour or that flavour, but it was nothing compared to the full flavour of real human food. He had no idea how much he’d missed it until the moment the chicken touched his tongue and a rush of flavour overwhelmed him. Or maybe it was only so good because he had been so long without it.

“Mmm,” he said, closing his eyes to fully enjoy the splendour. He chewed the meat slowly, savouring the taste. “I haven’t had chicken for weeks.” A list of foods he wanted to enjoy began compiling in his head and he wondered how far away the nearest KFC was.

He opened his eyes to see Grace staring at him. Her face held the silliest smile and her eyes were filled with a distant vagueness.

“What?” Ben said with a chuckle.

“What?” She almost shouted, her pitch jumping up a few notches. “I was just watching you live your best life. Is that okay?” She was far too defensive and Ben had no clue why.

“Of course it’s okay,” he said, already spearing more food onto his fork. He shovelled the food in like a man who might never eat again, in fact, that wasn’t too far from the truth.

By the time the meal was done Ben felt fuller than he had in a long while. No amount of blood could ever bloat him the way three courses of exquisite food could. One thing he was not looking forward to was the potion wearing off. Whilst he was enjoying the meal he’d had no doubt that it was completely worth it, he wondered if he’d still be feeling the same way in a couple of hours when he was spewing it back up again — or chundering, as Grace had put it.

“Look,” Grace said, nodding over at the gazebo where the food had come from. The staff were carrying the dirty dishes out the back of the gazebo and toward the castle. Ben watched them slip through a small servant’s door that was tucked out of the way behind a bush.

“What?”

“They’re going into the castle.”

“Yeah, they probably don’t have a kitchen in that gazebo,” Ben informed her.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to him. “Obviously, num-nuts. We could slip through that door and have a peek at the castle. Sound fun?” The mischievous look on her face made him want to agree on the spot, but commonsense kicked in before he could.

“What about the people who live there?”

The small shrug showed how concerned she was about the residents. “Just mesmerise them to ignore us or something.”

“Seriously? The boat will be taking us back soon.”

“We’re twenty minutes from town; we can find our way back without the boat. Stop overthinking everything and let’s just do something fun.” Without another word, she jumped up, grabbed her bag and took off for the castle.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ben said before hurrying after her. He glanced around at the other guests, hoping that none of them noticed the pair of them popping into the castle for a quick nose around.

The small wooden door wasn’t locked and they slipped straight through to a narrow passage that Ben knew the owners had probably never seen. It was too unglamorous and cramped to be anything other than a servant’s passage. It led them through to a basement kitchen, and even though it was clearly a servant’s kitchen, it was still nicer than any kitchen Ben had ever had.

They slipped through without being seen and found a spiral staircase that led up to the castle proper. The entire way up the narrow turning staircase Ben could only think about how difficult it would be for a servant to have to carry plates of food up them; it really was the worst possible use for a spiral staircase.

“It’s not what I expected,” Ben said, looking around at the painted white walls of the castle upstairs. Electric chandeliers hung from the ceiling and modern art adorned the walls. It was not very castlelike.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, something more medieval.”

Grace snickered and pushed open the first door she came to. With no regard for anybody who might have been in there, she barged into the room.

“You told me I think about the consequences too much, but frankly, you could do with thinking about them a bit more. Or even just at all.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She stopped in the middle of what looked like a personal art gallery and twirled around on the spot, taking in the portraits that alighted the walls. Each portrait was of a single person sitting in a formal position as though they were posing for a school photo. Straight back, chin up, and slightly superior expression on their face. If Ben had to guess, he’d have said they were ancestral portraits.

“That one looks like you!” he said pointing at a portrait of a woman who had a passing resemblance to Grace. She had the same blonde hair, button nose, and tiny, spherical head.

“It does not!” she protested, clearly taking offence. Ben could see why. The woman in the portrait had severely lopsided eyes whereas Grace did not.

“Looks like you to me,” he said, choosing not to make the situation better as he wandered through the door at the back of the room to see what else the castle had in store for them.

The pair made their way through room after extravagant room, marvelling at the decadent wealth that had been splurged on every corner of the abode. Ben couldn’t even imagine what he would do with such wealth, or even where he’d start earning it. Then again, he didn’t need such rudimentary things like money anymore. Everything the world had to offer was his for the taking with a simple sentence and a moment of eye contact.

They made it all the way upstairs before they encountered anybody. Halfway down a hallway one of the solid oak doors opened and a middle-aged woman emerged with a folded blanket pressed to her chest. It was baby blue and looked like the sort of thing you’d give to an infant for comfort.

“Oh,” she said in quiet surprise as she took in the two young strangers in her home. Then she seemed to put two and two together and let out a long and weary sigh. “You’re from the tour. I’ve told Robert a hundred times I want these silly tours stopped. The meagre income from the use of the land is too greatly outweighed by the constant intrusion of sneaky uninvited guests.” She shook her head and fixed them both with an exhausted look. “I could call the police.”

“You’re up,” Grace said, giving Ben an elbow to the ribs.

He sped down the hallway kicking up a gentle breeze and stopped directly in front of the now-terrified occupant. “Relax,” he commanded and the tension left her body. “We’re supposed to be here. As soon we’re out of your sight you’ll forget us completely. Go about your evening.”

Without hesitation, the woman walked by Ben and then Grace as if neither of them was even there. In her mind, they were probably just a couple of servants and not worthy of her attention. Although, Ben hadn’t seen a single servant since entering the castle so maybe his estimation of her was a tad harsh.

“Such a nifty skill. I’m almost jealous,” Grace said. She pushed open the nearest door and sauntered into the room. “Oh, wow,” she said from within.

Ben shimmied after her to see what had so impressed the difficult-to-please witch.

“It’s just a bedroom,” he said, looking around at his new surroundings. It was a fancy bedroom, with a fluffy red carpet and a four-poster bed, but it was still just a bedroom and no fancier than any other room in the house.

“Yes, but look at the bathtub.” She had both hands pressed to her cheeks as she stared in wonder at what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary bathtub. The only curious thing to Ben was that it was standing in a bedroom instead of a bathroom.

“It certainly is a bathtub,” he said at a complete loss for what she wanted him to say.

“Just imagine having a bubble bath in this with the window open right there and the nice summer warmth coming in.” She ran a hand along the rim of the metal tub, eyes closed and face dreamy.

“You’re not actually going to have a bath are you?” Ben asked. Snooping around somebody’s castle was one thing, but taking a bath was well over the line.

Grace opened her eyes and the dreamy look was replaced by one of supreme offence. “No, of course I’m not going to have a bath. I was just imagining what it would be like to have this room.”

Ben dropped down onto the bed with relief and gave the mattress a couple of test bounces. He wasn’t prepared for how comfy it was. It was like sitting on a marshmallow. “Well you don’t have to imagine how nice this mattress feels,” he said, patting the bed for her to join him.

She trudged across the room, none too pleased that she was having to give up her dream of using the exquisite bathtub for bouncing on a mattress. “Maybe one day I’ll have a room like this.” She plonked down next to him and treated herself to three small bounces. Her eyebrows flicked up in pleasant surprise. “Oh, it is comfy.”

“Maybe after you’re married to Kieron the two of you can have a room like this.”

Grace let out a bark of laughter. “Not likely. Kieron’s lovely and all, but he hasn’t got the dollar for anything like this. None of the Ringles has. Maybe I shouldn’t marry him. But I do like him.”

Ben wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, her light tone made it impossible to tell. “You could just wait longer before you make a decision,” he suggested.

Grace shook her head and her curls jiggled. “The union has to be done at Ostara. It’s Ostara or never.”

“If somebody gave me that choice I’d pick never.”

“I don’t want to let anybody down though,” her voice took on a distinctive whine. “Kieron is nice. He’s so gentlemanly, and I don’t want to be alone forever.” She stared across the room at the bathtub, her thin pink lips pouting. The gloss she wore made them shine in the light like a polished apple. The apple of temptation.

Ben wasn’t sure what to say. There were so many things he could say to put a more positive spin on things, but he didn’t want to say any of those. Instead, as he sat staring at her pouting at her dream bedroom, he found himself taken by the urge to say nothing at all. Various consequences flooded through his mind, but he took Grace’s advice and ignored every one of them.

Without giving himself a chance to back out, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Her body tensed and immediately he knew he’d made a mistake. A hideous, terrible, utterly stupid mistake. He started to pull away but her fingers gripped his shoulder, gently inviting him to stay. Her lips moved against his, soft and wet, with the faint taste of candy floss. He shifted closer as did she and their bodies pressed against one another. She parted her lips and flicked her tongue into his mouth, when it retreated he chased it with his own. Both of her hands were on his shoulders now and his went to her waist. He felt the soft fabric of her dress and thought only of removing it.

She sighed gently into his mouth. He pushed against her, guiding her down onto her back. She went willingly, eagerly, and her hands snaked up his face, her fingers weaving into his hair. Her grip on his head was tense and urged him to continue.

Ben’s lips travelled across her delicate cheek and then down to her neck. She sighed again as she turned her head offering her neck to him. He followed her artery, thinking not once of sinking his teeth into it, only planting kisses as he journeyed lower. He slipped his hand beneath her, found the zipper he was searching for, and pulled open her wrappings. The dress was tight and not at all easy to work off.

He raised his head and stared into her eyes, wondering if there was a way of asking for assistance without killing the mood. There was something new in her gaze now. An impatient longing — no a demanding.

“Aren’t you a vampire?” she asked, the implication half mockery and half permission.

With his free hand, he grabbed the front of her dress and tore it free from her body with one tug. He tossed the ruined garment over his shoulder where it was promptly forgotten. His hands were almost trembling with anticipation as he slid them up her body, his fingers gliding up the undersides of her breasts and cupping them. Her heavily lidded eyes gave him the prompt to go on, he could feel her heart hammering with excitement. His fingers hooked the bra expertly and tossed it away baring her to him. Grace arched her back and pushed her breasts into his eager hands. He gave them a firm squeeze and flicked one stiff nipple with his forefinger. She let out a small gasp which turned into a full moan when he dived in and took her eager nipple into his mouth.

When the deed was done they lay panting on the bed, their sweaty bodies clinging to the satin sheets. The smell of what they’d done was overwhelming and Ben hoped that this room was unused. All the same, he’d open the windows to give the room a good airing out before he left.

“I take back what I said when we played pool. You are good at sticking it in the hole,” Grace said, still a little breathless. Ben turned his head lazily on the pillow so he could take in her face. She looked back at him, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes a little hazy. He’d seen her in a completely different light now and he knew he’d never be able to change it back.

“What?” she asked. There was none of her usual defensiveness in her tone. Her usual walls were down and she sounded oddly vulnerable.

“Nothing,” he said with a foolish smile.

Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goon.” She pushed herself off the bed and began gathering her clothes. Her underwear was salvageable but there was no way she was going to keep her dress on without an entire packet of safety pins. “Did you have to ruin my dress?” She held up the torn garment like a lawyer with an item of evidence.

“Oh come on! Like you didn’t want me to.”

“I never told you to do it.” She looked away quickly, knowing that the truth would be revealed in her eyes.

“It was a silent instruction,” said Ben. He grabbed his own clothes and after putting them on began searching for something for Grace to wear. They had to find another bedroom where she found some acceptable clothing. She did not like the clothes that she found but she didn’t have many options. All the clothing in the castle belonged to a middle-aged woman so she made the best of what she could find. She left her own dress on the bedroom floor and Ben wondered how confused the owners would be when they found it.

They were halfway down the stairs to the basement when Grace finally broke the silence they’d been walking in. “Why did you kiss me?” No suspicion or accusation, just curiosity.

“You said you didn’t want to be alone forever. If you don’t marry Kieron that doesn’t mean you’ll be alone. I just wanted you to know that you do have other choices.”

For a moment she said nothing and somehow, even from behind her, Ben knew she was smiling. It was like he could feel it. “You could have just said that,” she said, but even she was powerless to disguise the happiness in her voice.

“I know, but that way was much more fun.”

“That is certainly true.”

The boat was long gone so they had to get a taxi back into town where Ben had left his car. When he dropped Grace off at her house he considered saying goodbye with a kiss. The two of them stood together outside the house in the dim porch light staring into one another’s eyes. He wanted to kiss her and he thought that she wanted him to, it looked almost like she was waiting for it. Bizarrely, now his nerves were getting the better of him. After everything they’d done tonight a goodbye kiss was what was making him baulk.

He finally got himself together and was about to lean in for the kiss when the front door swung open.

“Are you planning on coming inside or will you be staying on the driveway all night? The porch light is shining right into the living room,” Christine complained.

“Sorry, Mum,” Grace said quickly, breaking their eye contact. “I’ll text you,” she told Ben as she hurried past her mother into the house.

Christine gave her a suspicious once over no doubt noticing her change in attire.

“Your task is to chaperone her dates. Nothing more,” Christine reminded Ben before slamming the door shut.

Even the minor reprimanding couldn’t dampen Ben’s mood. He wore his stupid little grin all the way home and it only fell off his face when he stepped out of his car and was immediately knocked right off his feet.

Something hard, like a lump of concrete collided with the side of his face, and Ben went barrelling across the tarmac car park.

He was on his feet in an instant, arms up and ready for a fight. A flash of darkness and then he was slammed into the wall, held in place by Darius’ ancient strength.

The master vampire wore a torn shirt and two great leathery wings were folded behind his back. Ben was thankful that he’d already taken on an almost human look before he’d seen him. The sight of his bat visage would have been horrifying so close up.

“How many vampires have you made?” Darius demanded. His breath stank of copper.

Ben gulped hard and tried to wriggle out of Darius’ grip but the ancient vampire’s strength was insurmountable. He should have been expecting this question but he had been so wrapped up in everything else that he had barely given it any thought.

“I’ve been busy,” he said stupidly as if that would be an acceptable excuse to Darius.

Darius released Ben and took a step back to give him some space. “Oh, never mind then,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand. “HOW MANY?” He screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. Ben flinched back against the wall expecting a fist to come next.

“None.”

“We made an arrangement. Did we not?”

“We did.” Spinning excuses would not help him now.

“I need to leave town for a brief excursion but I will return in due course. If you have not expanded your bloodline when I return I will start killing your friends.” His wings unfolded and beat against the air as they carried him up into the sky. Hovering up above Ben, the vampire looked down like a demonic angel. “Get. To. Work,” he said before shooting up into the black sky.