Calmet looked around and saw that almost the entire village had come out to watch the show. He did not like to work in front of civilians. They did not need to know what the Church sanctioned at night.
"You may want to look away," he said in a loud voice, but no one did. "Your soul is in God's hands now," he said to her as he raised his crossbow and shot it directly into her heart.
She screamed out in excruciating pain as her body began to rot away from her heart outward. Her face writhed in agony as she called for Vincent to save her. Like sand in an hourglass, she dissolved before them and formed a pile of ashes on the ground. The blood dried and stained the wood of the church door and stoop as if it had been there for centuries.
Calmet stepped over the body of the dead man and climbed the steps to pull the stake from the door. "'I am but dust and ashes'," he said quietly. He kicked the ashes as a light breeze blew them away.
Like so much discarded chaff, it was as if she had never been.
14
Victoria stood on the castle wall and looked out over the moonlit woods. Off in the distance, she heard a wolf howl a somber tune. She hummed along with the music in a cloistered voice. She leaned forward and placed her bare hands on the icy wall. She did not feel the cold. A breeze rustled her dress and her cape. Her hair flowed in the direction of the old town she had not seen in what felt like ages.
A part of her wanted to venture out, roam the woods again, peek at the humans she once wanted so desperately to be friends with, but the world no longer called her to be a part of it. Whenever she left the castle, she only felt darkness swirl around her, as if the earth was her tomb.
The wolf stopped howling and she felt alone once again. She went back into the castle, descended the stairs and walked down the hall to her room. She took off her cape and sat in front of her vanity.
Victoria looked into the mirror and tried to smooth away the small lines that had formed around her eyes, mouth, and across her forehead. She pulled a single grey hair from her head and sighed. She was thinner; she didn't eat much anymore. Thinking about what was in her food made her ill. She only ate what she had to in order to survive.
She held up her hand and looked at its reflection. She thought she could almost see right through herself. She reached out and gently touched her fingertips to the reflection. "'Death wrapped in flesh, to living grave assigned'," she whispered. She lowered her hand and looked at the small bags forming under her eyes.
She felt tired and heavy with worry. It was only days before her marriage to Sebastian would be final and then consummated. She shivered at the thought. She rubbed her eyes and propped her elbows on the table. She heard a knock on the door and held her breath as she inquired as to who it was. She breathed a sigh of relief to hear it was her father. She made sure her amulet and the token that she hung on the chain with it were safely tucked into her dress where her father could not see them, and then gave him permission to enter.
He opened the door and paused for a moment to look at his beauteous daughter. To him, she looked only a little paler, her features slightly more full and womanly in spite of her thinning frame. She possessed an inner light that illuminated his dark world.
"It would seem, 'my Mistress' song is now a sorrow's cry'," he said in a low voice.
"I didn't realize you could hear me," she replied, not looking at him.
"The women are gone," he said. "I thought I could spend some time with you uninterrupted."
He walked behind her and pulled her dark hair back, revealing her white, swanlike neck. Without his reflection present, she watched as her hair seemed to move on its own. He ran his fingers from her neck to her shoulders. To her, his touch did not feel so cold anymore. She could not decide if his body temperature had warmed or if hers had cooled. She feared it was the latter after she began to suspect her own reflection was fading.
"What is it you want?" she asked.
"I wanted to see how you were feeling with your marriage approaching," he said. "This unrelenting melancholy, your hymns to the moon. In all my years, I have never known such sadness in a woman." She lowered her eyes and sighed. "What is it?" he asked.
"I don't want to think about it, and I don't think I should talk to you about it," she finally said.
"I know you are not happy about it," he said, walking over and sitting on the bed. "But you agreed it was for the best. So since you are going to go through with it, I just wanted to help you feel more comfortable with the idea. Sebastian thinks you are against the union. I have tried to reassure him to the contrary."
"Sebastian thinks I am against the union because I greatly dislike him no matter how hard I try not to," she said without thinking. Vincent groaned. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I am going to marry him, but I don't love him, and I don't think I ever will. I am just trying to resolve myself to the fact that I am going to have to marry but forfeit any chance of love or companionship." She put her chin in her hand and gazed out on the bright moon shining in. "I could live without love. If only he was someone I could talk to, someone I could respect and admire, I wouldn't need passion."
"I am sorry you feel that way," Vincent said, trying to say the right words to calm her concerns and get her to go through with his plan. "You still think of that boy, don't you?" he asked. She was shocked by his question and did not reply. "You think that since you cannot be with him, any alternative is only misery."
"That is not true…" she began to say.
"Eventually hours will drain his blood and time will fill his brow with lines and wrinkles. His youthful morning will travel to age's night. You will have a long life together with Sebastian," he said. "Perhaps one day, you will feel different about him."
"I doubt it," she said, looking back at the mirror. "I am not yet twenty-five and I already look older than Jessenda."
"Ha!" he said. "You are just being dramatic. You look exactly the same as you did five years ago."
"Tell that to these wrinkles around my eyes," she lamented. "No, I think I did not inherit your longevity as I did your skin and eyes. At least Sebastian will be rid of me soon enough. Then he can go and live on with his wretched kept women as he so desires."
"That is not fair, Victoria," Vincent said.
"I was not criticizing you, Father. If you and your women are happy with your arrangement, I cannot argue against it. But such a life is not for me. I don't like the idea of sharing my husband with those women." She turned to see her father looking away from her. She got up and sat on the bed next to him. "Can I ask you something?" He looked back at her. "When Mother was alive, were you still intimate with the others?"
"No," he quickly said. "Your mother forbade it. I didn't agree with her human code of morality, and it was quite a sacrifice, but I loved your mother very much, so I acquiesced to her demands."
"I don't know, maybe it is better that he has them." She suddenly stopped talking and, blushing, turned away. "I shouldn't be talking to you about this."
"No, please, darling," he said, taking her hand. "You can talk to me about anything."
She turned back to him but was too embarrassed to look him in the face. "I am afraid of Sebastian," she said.
"Why?" he asked. "Has he threatened you in any way?"
"No, nothing like that." She paused before continuing, trying to decide the best way to phrase her words. "Whenever he is around, he only talks to me in a…a sexually degrading way. Full of innuendos. Most of the time I don't even know what he is talking about. But I am afraid of…of our wedding night. I am afraid of being with him…intimately."
"Oh, darling," he said, pulling her head to his chest and almost laughing. "All women are afraid their first time."
She doubted that because she did not fear Ethan. Him, she eagerly craved.
"Since he knows you are a maiden," her father continued to explain, "I am sure he is just trying to sound…what's the right word…fervent to pique your curiosity and, yes, perhaps he is trying to scare you a little. It probably ex
cites him."
"Ugh," she groaned, pulling away. "Ask him to stop. I hate it."
"Of course, darling," he said, kissing her forehead and rising to leave.
She lay back on the bed and sighed. Vincent was about to leave when they both heard cries and screams approaching the castle. They ran to the window and saw the women flying in the moonlight, heading toward them. Something was definitely wrong, so they ran down to the front hall to meet them.
The women landed in the courtyard and burst through the front door screaming hysterically. Sebastian entered from another room and joined Vincent in trying to calm them enough to tell what happened. Victoria had never seen the women in such a state; it frightened her. She pulled away from the group and stood by the grand staircase out of the way. The women fell to their knees as they found their masters and called to them for help and protection. Sebastian held his two, one in each arm, and tried to ask what happened. Vincent had more trouble trying to calm his three when he noticed there were only three.
"Where is Lucia?" he asked. The women were crying and talking all at once. He did not know if they were all trying to tell him or if they had not heard him. He asked again, but they did not clearly answer him. "Silence!" he finally roared. His voice was so loud the entire castle shook. His voice reverberated throughout the halls and Victoria covered her ears until the voice cleared. The women stopped speaking and wailing, but they still shook with fear. "Now," Vincent said as the air cleared, "Jessenda, where is Lucia?"
"She is dead, my lord," she cried.
"What?" he growled.
"She is dead, she is dead," the women all repeated.
Vincent looked about in disbelief as if expecting her to suddenly appear. "How is this possible?" he asked.
"A man, a slayer," Jessenda explained. "He was in the village waiting for us. They must have sent for him."
"How is that possible?" he again asked. "We patrol the woods almost every night. How could someone have evaded us?"
"I don't know," answered Jessenda.
"The slayer," Vincent continued, "who was it? Did he give his name?"
"He didn't have to," Tessa said. "It was Dom Calmet. I am sure. He was old and scarred."
"Dom Calmet?" repeated Vincent, walking away from the girls. "That is almost an insult. He couldn't even clear England by himself when he was in his prime, and now he thinks he can defeat me. What an affront to my power." He turned back and looked at the shivering women. "And yet, look at what he did to you." His eyes fell on Jessenda and Helena, on the burns on their faces. "He overpowered all six of you." He looked at Sebastian's two. "How is it that some of you have returned unharmed? Did you not fight? Not try to protect one of your own?"
Sebastian pulled his girls around behind him. "Why don't you ask your own, Vincent?" he said, pointing to Tessa.
Vincent turned and walked toward the woman with the unscathed countenance.
"She bade us leave, to warn you," she answered without being asked. "Her only thoughts were of you, Master."
Vincent felt pained for his loss. Not as much as when he lost Hannah or as he would have if it had been Jessenda, but sorrow nonetheless. He had brought her into this life and did not expect her ever to be taken from him.
"Do not fear, my precious ones," he said, opening his arms to them. The three ran up and embraced him. "You are safe now. I will not let any harm come to you. Now go, drink, and be made well." They all exited toward the dining hall to drink their tainted wine to heal their wounds.
Victoria felt sorry for the loss of Lucia. She was just a poor cursed soul, and now she was dead without the blessing of the Lord. Victoria turned to climb the steps back to her room when Helena grasped her shoulder. She turned and was startled to see the injuries on the girl's face close up.
"Does this look familiar to you?" Helena asked. Victoria was so shocked by the sight of the seared flesh she just shook her head. "Look harder," Helena said.
Victoria forced herself to look, studying the outline. "My amulet," she said. "It looks just like the amulet my mother gave me."
"Yes, and it looks just like the one you gave away the night you were sacrificed to the wolves," Helena said.
Victoria gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Her eyes welled with tears at just the thought. "Ethan?" she finally said softly. She grabbed Helena's arms. "Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes," Helena said. "I am quite sure. I saw him very closely."
"You didn't…Oh, pray! Tell me you didn't," she cried.
"I tried, before I realized who he was. Then he did this to my face."
"Oh, bless you," she took Helena's hand and kissed it repeatedly.
"Don't thank me," she said, pulling her hand away. "The amulet prevented me from harming him; it was not my choice."
Victoria wiped away tears of joy and relief. "All these years, I feared he was dead though I hoped he was alive."
"He may as well be dead," Helena scoffed. "He is a friar or priest or something. What is the point of living if you can't enjoy certain pleasures now and then?"
Victoria sighed. "For some, religion is pleasurable. Ethan and I used to talk for hours about different scriptures and what they meant, trying to decipher the ancient and modern implications of the word of God." She got a far off look in her eye as she remembered a time when they sat in the tavern and discussed the ram of the Book of Daniel. Ethan explained to her how remarkable it was that God revealed the rise of Greece as a world power centuries before it happened, and she told him all about Alexander the Great from a book she had read in her father's library. They had talked for so long, the sun had set and she’d had to rent a room in the tavern for the night. Her father was furious when she got home the next day. "Actually, I can imagine nothing more pleasing," she said.
"That is because you have not given yourself to Sebastian yet," Helena said with a sly look on her face. "Then you will know."
Victoria thought about her conversation with her father only minutes earlier and how she still was not convinced it was something she would enjoy.
"I should not have said anything," Helena said, watching Victoria's face. "You are so innocent; I should not frighten you with such matters."
"I am not frightened," Victoria said, defiantly. "I just do not wish to discuss such things." Helena laughed and headed off to join the others. Victoria began to climb the stairs to return to her room, but stopped. She turned around, grabbed a hooded cape by the door and fled from the castle into the dead of night.
15
The tavern was alive with people, music, dancing, drinking, and food. For the first time since before anyone present had been born, people were happy after dark. Not only did they venture out of doors, they rejoiced in it.
Ethan sat in a corner, nursing a mug of ale, and watched while Calmet awed some women with his wild tales of vampires and werewolves back in England. One man raised a toast to Calmet while another composed limericks about him on a lute. Ethan was glad to have helped bring such rare happiness to his town, but he didn't feel like celebrating.
"What is wrong, Ethan?" Sara asked, sitting next to him. "You were very brave tonight. You should be up dancing."
"I wasn't brave," he said. "I didn't know what I was doing."
"You didn't run away. You fought. Now, thanks to you and your friend, we may finally be rid of our wretched curse."
"You saw what happened to her, that vampire. It was awful," Ethan said, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, it was awful, but necessary. You know what those creatures have been doing to us. It is time to stop them."
"Yes, but my job is done. I was just supposed to lead Calmet here. I have fulfilled my obligation. I think it might be better if I move on."
"You want to leave us again?" she asked. "You have only arrived."
"I left for a reason, Sara. It was not my choice to return. I was following orders."
"Fine," Sara said, standing. "If you want to run off and join a monastery, I am sure God will be glad to have you
. At least your melancholy will go with you."
Ethan watched her walk away. He dropped some money on the table, waved goodbye to Calmet, and walked out of the tavern. He was walking toward the stable when he saw the old church and cemetery out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to the church and looked at the bloodstained door. He shuddered at the thought of how the aisle, the steps, and even the priest were all bathed in blood the last time he was there.
He walked up the steps and pushed open the door. A few birds flapped their wings as a rush of air filled the room. Moonlight shined through a hole in the ceiling and bathed the entire room in a light blue glow. The church had not been used for many years and was now a home for birds, bats, and mice. Windows were broken, pews overturned, and all the religious ornaments and relics were gone. Leaves that had fallen in through the hole in the ceiling covered the floor. He looked up at the boughs that held bird nests and at the ruined pulpit where a good man once taught the good news of God. He didn't feel like he had the right to enter the building, so he closed the door and walked along one side of it to the cemetery.
A low wrought iron fence surrounded the graveyard. Leaves that had been red and yellow when they first fell but now were brown and dry blew across the ground. Ethan opened the squeaky gate and entered. The leaves crunched under his feet as he looked at the names on the tombstones. Most of the names he did not recognize, generations of people who had passed long before he was born. Some of the stones were so old they were crumbling or falling over, sinking into the soft soil. As he walked farther, he came across one that was all too familiar.
Katerina Kovacs
Angels on Earth become Angels in Heaven
1704-1732
At the grave of his mother, he stood for a moment in respectful silence. She had been a good mother, and her death was hard on him. Already having lost his father, he was scared of what was to become of him. But there was one person who made sure he was taken care of. It was this man's grave Ethan looked for next.
The Vampire's Daughter Page 14