WUTHERING NIGHTS (chapter twelve: The Cottage)

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Chapter Twelve

The Cottage   

   Heath disappeared most evenings at school. Kate knew he went hunting. He’d be back for band rehearsals, he had promised her. He’d been counselled by his doctor. Kate was sure he practised being ‘safe’, which meant only drinking wild animals and never more than he needed to survive. Magenta, drunk in the interim, ensured he was not tempted by humans; nor would he be, unless his vampiricism developed fully. This was a roll of the dice, according to his specialist. They wouldn’t know if he was a full bloodsucker until he reached eighteen. In the meantime, his diet subsisted only of protein, citrus, Magenta and plasma delivered via special order from London once a week. Blood oranges were still his favourites.

    Tomorrow night, the inter-school Battle of the Bands competition was to be held as part of the Sixth Form dance.  Kate and a few others, including Annabelle Hunt, were factored into the front row as audience members or “fake fans”, as Kate joked. Annabelle had made such an effort to be friends with Kate that the girls were now talking and Annabelle had hesitantly been accepted into Kate’s circle of popular girls.

     Those girls were sitting in the front row. The band hoped they wouldn’t be sitting there long. Tonight, they wanted everyone in the room up dancing.  Heath would be lying if he said he didn’t like the fact that a lot of girls paid him attention. He was tall with dark hair and had a “mysterious” look about him. He’d heard Annabelle giggling and whispering about him to his friends once. He still disliked the Hunts but he enjoyed female attention in all its forms and it didn’t pay to display open warfare towards Annabelle’s older brother, Edmund.  He’d tried that in his first year at boarding school and all his privileges had been withdrawn. He hadn’t seen Kate in over a week.

      There was only one girl whose opinion truly mattered to him and she sat front row centre as the band played her favourite cover. Afterwards, everyone rushed off to supper but Heath and Kate had plans.

      As Heath packed away his guitar, the drummer, who fancied Kate, smiled at her.

     ‘Did you like your song, Kate? We played it especially for you…’

      Heath rolled his eyes, jealously. 

      ‘I more than enjoyed it,’ Kate replied but she was looking straight at Heath when she spoke.

     Heath had a good singing voice. He and his band were the coolest – some said most dangerous boys at school – by far. Although Kate was proud of Heath’s ability to assimilate, it had begun to annoy her to see other girls paying Heath so much attention and the last thing she wanted to do was let him know how great he was. That would create too much of an ego problem. 

      ‘I mean, it was better than okay,’ she covered.  

     ‘That was your song,’ Heath said.

       Kate couldn’t help but smile. Heath knew what she liked so well.

        Heath pretended not to care and smiled at Annabelle Hunt as she gathered her things, much to Kate’s annoyance.  Heath made sure Kate noticed how much Annabelle Hunt flirted with him. When he became bored with Annabelle’s conversation mid-sentence, Heath turned from her and walked over to demand Kate’s undivided attention.  Kate paused and glanced into Heath’s eyes. It was obvious to strangers they had a connection that went beyond words.

      When they were alone, Kate tugged at Heath’s shirt and gave him the lamb sandwich she’d made in the kitchen especially for him. They were having a roast today at the girl’s school and Kate knew it was Heath’s favourite. He thanked her, pulled off the lamb, wolfed it down then left the bread. Heath was always starving these days. It was as if none of the food he ate satisfied him.

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