17: A Vampire Dinner

With all eyes turning in unison to look at Gabriel and my underdressed self, I freeze up. I’ve never been one to feel comfortable under a stranger's attention or their judgements, let alone several...at once. Gabriel mutters some pointless words in my ear that I don’t quite hear, because my own thoughts take precedence, before his fingertips lightly press against my elbow forcing me to follow his lead. His touch takes away some of my unease, but not enough.

Of course, we have to walk the entire length of the table to the two empty seats next to Phillip, who sits on the head, showcased for all to see. The people who have their backs to us thankfully don’t turn around to stare, but the people on the other side of the table, the people who do happen to be facing in my direction, all of their eyes follow me as I walk to my seat with Gabriel still leading me along.

There are a few times his fingers aggressively dig into my skin and it has to be from him having to give my feet an extra nudge to keep walking. Like a gentleman, just for show, Gabriel pulls out my chair for me at the end, the chair that’s closest to Phillip. Gabriel takes the seat to my left, sandwiching me between both of them.

Phillip looks me up and down, his beady black eyes racking over my body, lingering a little too long on my neck makes my skin crawl. I fight the urge to hike the collar of my jacket up suddenly feeling exposed. “Shall we eat? I’m starving.”

With those words, my heart drops. A dizziness comes over me and the room sways. I begin to have an internal battle within myself. Part of me not believing I’m here in the King of All Vampire’s manor, while the other half screams to run.

Gabriel’s hand goes to rest on my knee. I hadn’t noticed it had been bobbing up and down frantically until his palm pushes gently down on it bringing it to a stop. A quick glance in his direction doesn’t help. Before our eyes meet, I want to kill him, but as that golden gaze meets mine everything melts away.

Phillip keeps on talking as more of his vampire soldiers come marching in, “For you, tonight we eat sacrifice free. Glasses and plates instead of hands and teeth.” He flashes me a smile the devil would be proud of.

My limbs give a jolt, but thankfully, his hand is still pressing down on my leg otherwise, I would’ve sent the chair scratching against the wooden floorboards as my body launched to its feet, drawing attention back on myself. It’s bad enough that several pairs of eyes still watch me. A few enraged and a few enthralled. A few vampire and a few human and maybe a few half breeds, but can’t tell the difference.

My breath hitches as one of the soldiers leans over me and places a dome covered plate in front of me. Phillip’s finger immediately starts to circle the rim of his glass as soon as it’s placed in front of him while Gabriel leans back as a domed plate is placed in front of him. I sneak a glance around the table and can finally distinguish who is who or who is alive and who is not. Domed plates in front of those that breath and large crystal goblets of blood for the dead.

Like a domino effect, servers go down the line undoming the plates, blumes of trapped steam billow into the air, strong savory scents waft into my face. My stomach has the audacity to growl. My head had been hellbent on refusing to eat vampire offered food, but my stomach apparently has a different idea.
“Enjoy, my family,” his eyes land on me, “and friends.” He brings the glass of blood to his lips. He even keeps eye contact with me as he tips the liquid into his mouth, testing me once again.

The clink and clatter of forks against plates and the smack of lips against glasses overpower my senses. I sit and stare at the plate neither contemplating or disregarding entirely, just staring. This all too much to handle, too much to comprehend for a simple witch. Where’s my cotton candy now, because I really could use it.
“Eat. It’s very disrespectful if you don’t.” Phillip says, the inside of his mouth is extra red. “You don’t want to be disrespectful, do you?”

And what if I did? What would he do? Scenario after scenario play in my head. Phillip shoots up from his chair and grabs me by my hair, harshing pulling my head to the side to expose my neck before he plunges his fangs into my flesh. Phillip casually rises from his chair and takes a few calculated steps to come to stop directly in front of me, mere seconds pass before he man-grabs me and tosses me onto the table, my back slamming against the wood, his words of ‘enjoy the feast’ bellow from his lungs before every vampire at the dining table pounce and bite every inch of my body, sucking every drop of blood from my veins.

Or he could have Gabriel make me behave. I’m sure it would be less painful and easy considering his blood is coursing through my veins. All I have to do is make my head shut up and I’d be playdough in his hands.

Deciding on not testing my theories out, I reach for the fork. My shaky fingers barely can keep a grasp on the metal utensil, but I manage to stab the corner of a piece of meat. My other hand goes for the knife, but in an instant Gabriel jumps in filling his gentleman’s shoes again. He reaches across me and snatches the knife before I can grasp it. His eyes only scan over me before he stares at my plate. Being helpful or annoying he cuts my food for me.

We exchange looks as he places the knife on his left away from me. A glare and a smirk. I know as well as he does that he cut my food for me because there was a fifty fifty chance that I would stab someone, maybe even myself. One doesn’t know what one is capable of or crazy enough to do when in a room full of vampires and their blood slaves.

“Thank you.” I say in the snobbiest tone I can muster. A stabbing pain burns in my stomach from my sour attitude. Gabriel catches the twinge and lifts his eyebrows in an I-told-you-so gesture.

I aggressively stab a piece of meat with the fork only hoping that he would take that away too and I wouldn’t have to be forced to eat this food. For all I know it’s laced with more blood. I can only muster a few bites of meat and a few bites of the green bean and mashed potato sides.

Gabriel flashes me a look as I put my fork down and don’t pick it back up. Everyone is still enjoying themselves, shoving their faces with food or slurping on blood. It’s almost laughable. An upscale dinner party that involves blood and vampires.

“Time for dessert already?” Phillip questions as he looks from my still full plate to my face. “I prefer dessert as well.”

"I would prefer to go back to my room.” I mutter under my breath.

“Oh, you don’t want to miss this though.” Phillip replies and I can’t help to blush at my stupidity for forgetting about vampires and their perfect hearing.

The second the dining rooms door burst open I regret everything. When the barely clothed men and women strut in, I regret everything a little more. When applause and laughter fill the space, I regret everything even more. And when those scantily clad individuals place themselves strategically between vampires and drape themselves so their limbs are perfectly placed in front of them, I’ve moved past regret and straight into denial.

This can’t be happening. I frown and shake my head refusing to see what I so plainly see. I can ignore the grunts of shock and groans of pleasure as people are bitten, but I can’t ignore the smell of blood that fills the room. A tangy rust, bitter to nostrils.

I bolt up from my seat and Gabriel does the same, “I think I’m done for the night.”

“But I have something just for you.” Phillip says as he signals to someone behind me. Seconds later one of his server soldiers comes up behind me and places a small plate down in front of me on the table. “Something sweet for my newest recruit.”

A layered chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate drizzle taunts me. I will not accept sweets from a stranger, especially a vampire stranger. Gabriel on the other hand has a different idea.

He grabs my elbow once again and whispers in my ear, “you have to accept it, just a couple of bites or you’ll have to accept something else.” His fingertips come up to my chin and slide down my neck lightly grazing my skin.

So it’s a bite of cake or a bite of me.