Page 100 of Only Fangs

I move on to talking about what came next. The rebound boyfriend who turned out to be a conman and who drained my savings. Then the attempts to make it on my own. The failed ventures and the constant worries about money.

“And so in the end I called on Victor.” I allow the words to marinate between us as I take a large gulp of wine.

“Victor? As in the demon, Victor?”

I nod. “It was stupid.”

“Well... yes. Yes, it was stupid.” He cocks his head. “Something tells me this isn’t the worst bit though.”

I shake my head. “No it’s not.”

“I’ll get us another round,” he says, standing up and picking up the two empties.

When he comes back, I immediately launch into the last part of my sorry tale. I tell him about Brody and Only Fangs and then Hele House and all the rest of it, my words coming thick and fast as I desperately try to get to the end of the story before the tears come once again.

Dad sits quietly, his mouth hanging open as he listens, but when we get to the part where Andrei Hele takes me as his ward his stoic demeanour cracks and his fist comes crashing down onto the table. “Over my fucking dead body,” he shouts.

“Sit down,” I hiss, conscious that the five other patrons in the pub are looking at him like he’s grown another head.

“Sorry,” he says, his quiet voice returning. “But he can’t do that. You’re my daughter.”

“Do you really think you can stop him?”

His shoulders slump slightly. Of course he can’t. I haven’t come here to get my father to rescue me. “Why didn’t you come to me?” he whispers. “Instead of going to Andrei for the funding, why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I thought you wouldn’t approve.”

He frowns at me as if he doesn’t understand what I mean. But then realisation begins to dawn. “Of the whole Only Fangs thing? Why wouldn’t I? I get it, the desire to connect with people like you, with the same kinds of experience.”

“It was always kind of a joke though. Only Fangs.” I do a feeble version of Clara’s jazz hands. “It was just a great name and a way of meeting other vampires for dates and stuff. It wasn’t meant to become a propaganda tool. It wasn’t meant to support all that pureblood rubbish that Andrei rambles on about.”

“I know you don’t believe in all that stuff,” Dad says.

“But I’m still a vampire and I move in vampire circles…” I trail off. In some ways Dad and I are very different.

“Being friends with the vampires you grew up with, Clara and Ivan who you’ve known since you were little, that’s a good thing. I don’t think you’re wrong for holding on to your friends. Or for dating other vampires.” He smiles but there’s a sadness there. “If I hadn’t met your mum then perhaps I would have found myself with someone else of our kind.”

“Perhaps.”

He excuses himself to go to the loo and I take the opportunity to get us yet another drink. I know alcohol is not the key to solving the predicament I’m in. But I need to numb the edges.

It turns out that I’m definitely going to need that third drink, because Dad isn’t alone as he heads back to the table.

“Victor? What are you doing here?”

He looks pissed off, which is never a good idea for a demon with a huge mace. The other patrons look at him before turning away, muttering into their pints. I guess I should be glad that this is the kind of pub where people mind their own business, even if they might gossip when they get home to their wives.

“Your dad called me.”

“I thought you were going to the bathroom,” I say to my father.

“I went first. But there was an alcove in the corridor on my way back to the table. And it looked so inviting. Such a perfect place to summon a demon.” He shrugs as if this is nothing, as if it’s the kind of thing people do every day.

The barman comes over to the table, a pint of lager in one hand and a shot glass filled with something black and viscous in the other. “From the gentleman in the other corner,” he says as he places the drinks in front of Victor.

“Thanks,” Victor replies. He raises the shot glass and turns to catch the eye of the man who sent it over. He’s holding an identical one and they both raise them a few inches before downing the contents in unison. “An old friend,” he says turning his attention back to us.

“We need to talk about the deal you’ve struck with Andrei Hele,” Dad tells him.