History of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Castle Series Book 4)

by Gayla Twist

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Mama said, taking our father’s coat and folding it over her arm. “That’s just how a young man should behave.”

  “That’s how any man should behave,” Papa felt the need to add.

  “So can we go?” Lilly asked, her eyes shining with excitement. “Just a short drive.” Glancing over at me, she added, “Maybe out to see the castle. I know Colette likes that kind of stuff.”

  “Your sister was just at the castle with me,” Papa informed her.

  “Oh, but I’m sure she wouldn't mind going again tomorrow.” She looked eagerly in my direction. “Would you, Lettie?”

  I had no desire to see Lev Wilson again, but I was already itching to get back to the castle. “I guess I wouldn’t mind,” I said. “As long as it’s just for an hour.” I thought I could put up with anyone’s company for an hour.

  Lilly bounced up and down and then gave me a hug.

  “I hope you realize that your mother and I haven’t given our approval yet,” Papa said, his voice stern.

  Lilly stopped bouncing. “Oh, please,” she said, sounding as if she was Cinderella about to be denied admission to the ball. “I promise it will only be for a half an hour. Maybe an hour at the most.”

  Our mother and father exchanged looks. “I’m not sure I approve of you riding around in cars with boys,” Mama said. “But if Walter is the gentleman that you claim, then I suppose it’s alright by me, if it’s alright with your father.”

  Lilly clasped her hands together and turned to look at Papa.

  “It’s fine, as long as your sister’s with you,” Papa said. “But I want those boys to come inside so I can look them both in the eye again. Most young men remember to mind their p’s and q’s when they know that a father is keeping a close eye on his daughters.”

  “Well of course they’ll come in,” Lilly said. “Walter would insist on that, anyway.”

  Lilly hurried off to call her beau and I started setting the table for dinner. I was reluctant to see Lev again, but I could probably just block out his words while gazing at the castle. Plus I desperately wanted to speak to one of the Italian carpenters about the Vanderlinds. What were the hair-raising stories about the new family moving into town?

  Chapter 12

  Jessie

  Mrs. Denkler went with Emily to the dining room for dinner, but I ordered a meal to be delivered to my room. I intended to try to show up for a few meals with the general public, if only to please my sister and to give the appearance of being mortal, but I was too riled up from my encounter on deck to attempt a meal that night.

  I ordered a steak, extra rare, along with roasted potatoes, greens and a bottle of wine. I didn’t go overboard on the wine. I knew I had to order a good vintage to keep up appearances, but I saw no reason to spend a lot of money, when all I was going to do was pour it down the drain. I did think for a moment to offer the bottle to Mrs. Denkler, but then changed my mind. She was in charge of my little sister, after all. I didn’t want to give her an excuse to get tipsy.

  After Emily and her temporary governess had returned from their meal and gone to bed, I sat up reading. I was still unused to my new hours of existence. I didn’t know how to give up my days and find ways to fill my nights.

  As the hour dragged on past midnight and most of the ship’s passengers had gone to bed, I went up on deck to have a look around. The night was mild and the skies were very clear. The Milky Way was on full display and I took a moment to marvel at the beauty of the heavens.

  “Are you having trouble sleeping too?” I heard a familiar voice ask me.

  I looked up to see that my mother had also decided upon a late-night stroll. “Oh…” I stammered for a moment before I realized that we weren’t supposed to know each other. “Yes,” I managed. “I know many people find the gentle rocking of a boat sleep-inducing, but it has the opposite effect on me.”

  Mother gave a gentle laugh. “I suffer from the same malady, I’m afraid.” Then she turned her head slightly, just enough to let me know that she had heard something or sensed someone else on deck.

  Taking a moment to focus, I had to agree with her. I could definitely smell the hormonal-laced musk of an adolescent male close at hand. “Did you enjoy the ship’s departure?” I asked, just for something to say so it wouldn’t look awkward with us both just standing there.

  “I found it quite exhilarating,” she told me with a gentle smile.

  “Begging your pardon,” a voice said. We both turned to see a young cabin boy who had stepped out of the shadows. His hair was a crown of golden ringlets and his eyes were wide and a brilliant shade of blue. By any standard, he was remarkably beautiful, even though his eyes were crusted slightly with sleep. “Would either of you fine people be needing anything?”

  I saw my mother suppress a smirk. The boy had obviously been asleep somewhere in a dark corner and was concerned that he might have been discovered shirking his duties. “I am perfectly comfortable,” my mother told him. “Thank you for asking.” Turning to me, she added, “Anything for you, Mr.…?” She let her words hang in the air, seeing that ostensibly we had not been introduced.

  “Vanderlind,” I told her, suppressing a smile of my own. “Jessie Vanderlind.”

  My mother provided her false names and we exchanged how-do-you-dos. Then mother turned to the cabin boy and said, “And what is your name, young man?”

  The cabin boy looked startled for a moment and then said, “I am Christian Franzen, Ma’am. How do you do?”

  “How do you do?” Mother replied.

  Christian Franzen stood there for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do next. “It was nice meeting both of you,” he told us, “but I suppose I’d better be getting back to work.”

  After he’d hurried off, my mother remarked in a low voice, “What a beautiful young man. His features are quite striking. Did you see the color of his eyes?”

  “There was no missing them,” I had to admit. The boy’s beauty was hard to ignore.

  “Blue,” Mother said, a bit wistfully. “A clear blue, like the sky on a perfect day.” Then in a voice that was hardly audible she whispered, “I do hope your grandfather doesn’t catch a glimpse of him. That could only lead to trouble.”

  “It is a rather lovely night,” I said, making a show of looking at the stars in the sky. There was the gentle sound of footsteps approaching and I meant to give my mother warning in case she hadn’t heard them.

  “I should probably return to my cabin now or my husband will wonder where I’ve got off to,” Mother said. “It’s was very nice speaking with you. I hope you have a good night.”

  As she turned and left, an elderly couple approached, walking slowly, arm-in-arm. Part of me wondered why they were up at such an hour. And another part of me mourned that I would never have the chance to grow old with someone that I loved.

  The little French maid continued to be persistent in her quest to be of service to Mrs. Denkler, my sister and me. Emily reported that she had knocked on our door twice the next day. She even had the temerity to ask if she could check with me directly to see if I needed anything, even though Denkie had told her I was resting.

  Resting was not an accurate description of what I was doing in my oversized trunk. I couldn’t lie down completely straight and that made it a challenge to get comfortable. I tried not to thrash around too much because I didn’t know if there happened to be anyone lurking in my cabin. I didn’t want a maid or cabin boy to wonder about the rustling in Mr. Vanderlind’s enormous trunk. Emily tried reading to me to pass the time for both of us. After the initial excitement, she found life aboard ship too sedentary. I could have just as easily taken a book into the trunk with me, but it hadn’t occurred to me when I’d climbed in for the day. Turning my mind off was the problem. We vampires didn’t exactly sleep; we went into a state of repose that was supposed to be similar to deep meditation. At least that was what I had been told. So far I hadn’t been able to find any type of
repose, sleep, meditation or otherwise.

  Eventually my sister became restless. “Would you mind if I went up on deck?” she asked, her voice apologetic. “Just for a little while. There’s shuffleboard up there and…” Her voice faded. I could tell she was trying to decide if she was being selfish.

  “Emily, don’t worry about me,” I told her. “I’ll be fine. You go and enjoy yourself. It’s what I want you to do. And take old Denkie with you. She could use some fresh air.”

  Emily giggled. She loved when I referred to Mrs. Denkler in this way. “I won’t be long,” she assured me and I could hear her getting to her feet.

  “Take as long as you like,” I insisted. “It’s not like I’ll be up and about until nightfall.”

  After Emily and Mrs. Denkler went out, I tried to turn my thoughts off and just focus on nothing. But my life had gone through so many changes in the last week that it made it almost an impossible thing to do. Even so, after an extended period of frustration, I eventually found myself starting slip into the void.

  That was until I heard somebody in my room. I was immediately jerked into consciousness by the slight creak of hinges being opened. Who was out there? I couldn’t begin to imagine. It wasn’t Emily or Mrs. Denkler. Of that I was convinced. Neither one of them had any cause to sneak into my cabin. Perhaps one them was looking for something and trying not to disturb me. I gave that idea some thought.

  But then I heard the light clinking of bottles and I was filled with rage. The only bottles I had in my room were my food supply. Why was someone rifling through my trunk? Was it the same person who had dumped the first bottle? Was he back to finish the job? I felt an impotent rage. I wanted to burst from my trunk and confront the scoundrel, but that was a bad idea for numerous reasons. There was nothing I could do but sit there, not making a sound, and hope the person was not doing what I suspected he might be doing.

  The bottles eventually stopped rattling, but then a more alarming sound reached my ears. It was someone trying to open the very trunk that contained me. He was fiddling with the lock. I froze, afraid even the slightest movement might give me away.

  The thief struggled with the lock for several minutes. Then there was the sound of a door opening and closing. I could hear the voices of Mrs. Denkler and my sister. The person standing outside my sleeping trunk instantly grew very quiet. And then I could hear him walking lightly across the room.

  I made a vow that if whoever was out there tried to hurt Emily or Denkie in any way, I would burst from my makeshift coffin and dispatch the thief to the great beyond. I thought I could probably cause their demise before the sun burnt me to cinders. Even with this resolve, I understood that even the smallest bit of sunlight was excruciatingly painful to a member of the undead. But it was a horror I would have to face in order to protect my family.

  Emily and Mrs. Denkler must have gone into their cabin for a moment because their voices grew more muffled, but they didn’t sound agitated in any way. I strained my ears in my custom-made prison for any sound that might indicate a struggle. All I heard was soft footsteps crossing the floor and the sound of a door being quietly pulled open and then shut again. With the click of the latch, I felt myself relax slightly. Whoever had been snooping meant my family no harm. The person was probably just a petty thief looking for easily concealable items.

  Several hours later, I felt the ease that comes over all vampires with the setting of the sun. While I waited a few minutes for the last rays of the day to dwindle, I listened for sounds of anyone being in the cabin that shouldn’t have been there. And then, feeling reasonably sure I had taken all necessary precautions, I popped the interior locks on my trunk and opened the lid.

  No one was in my cabin. That gave me some relief. I peeked out the door to glimpse Denkie and my sister reading books in our shared living space. They both looked perfectly fine. Then I turned to see what was missing from my room. A watch and chain, a pair of gold nail scissors, and a pearl lapel pin had all disappeared off of my bureau. These were annoying losses, but nothing to cause me great regret. I had shipped anything of real value when the contents of the castle were sent over.

  Taking a fortifying breath, I turned my attentions to my true concern; the trunk holding my food for the next few days. The lid was closed and I was reluctant to open it. But whatever had happened, I had to face it.

  Flipping open the lid, I surveyed the eleven bottles that had been so carefully packed. They were all empty. Someone had snuck into my cabin and drained every single one.

  Chapter 13

  Colette

  “Good evening, Mr. Gibson,” Walter Bennett said. I could tell he was using his very best manners. “Mrs. Gibson.” There was a big smile on his face and he couldn’t stop from looking in Lilly’s direction. It struck me for the first time that my sister and Walter might be in love. It was more than likely what older people referred to as “young love” but that probably didn’t keep it from feeling any less real to them.

  “Good evening, Sir,” Lev said, shaking Papa’s hand. He was obviously part of the good-manner’s club. “Mrs. Gibson,” he said with a nod to our mother.

  “Good evening, boys,” Mama said.

  “That’s quite a bruise you’ve got there,” Papa said, referencing a purple discoloration and a small plaster high on Lev’s left cheek.

  Lev’s hand self-consciously flew up to gingerly touch his injury. “Nothing much,” he said rather quickly. “I was roughhousing with some friends and there was a little accident.”

  “Was anyone else hurt?” our mother asked, immediately concerned.

  “Oh. No, it was nothing like that,” Lev assured her. “A couple of us were wrestling where we shouldn’t have been and my face got banged on the corner of a table.” He touched his cheek again and then forced his hand back down to his side. “It looks a lot worse than it is.”

  The four of us piled into Lev’s new car. It was shiny black and showroom new. Lilly and Walter claimed the back seat, so that left me to sit up front with Lev. “What do you think of her?” Lev asked as he started the car up. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  I was a little surprised that Lev had bothered to ask me a question. But seeing that he was really fishing for a compliment, it wasn’t too much of a shock. The sun was just starting to set, so there was still a lot of daylight left. I couldn’t help but notice as Lev gripped the wheel that his right hand was purpled and slightly swollen.

  “Did that happen while you were roughhousing, too?” I asked, nodding toward his hand.

  Lev glanced at his bruises and then shot me a rueful grin. “You could say something like that.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of his comment, but I didn’t feel the urge to dig for details. If Lev had gotten into a fight with one of his friends, then that had nothing to do with me. And if afterward, they had decided to patch things up and just call it roughhousing, then that was their business, not mine. All I was obligated to do was be polite and go see the castle.

  Lev drove his car with surprising caution, keeping under the speed limit and being considerate of other motorists. He even showed remarkable patience when a farmer pulled his tractor out onto the road ahead of us and we had to inch along for several minutes until the man turned off the main road and onto a dirt one.

  I began to wonder if I’d misjudged Lev. Maybe he was just nervous during our first date. Male animals in the jungle were known to show off colorful plumage or magnificent manes to attract a mate. Maybe Lev’s constant bragging was just his ill-judged attempted to impress me. I decided I should at least try to give him another chance.

  When we reached the dirt road turnoff that led to the castle, Lev used additional caution, moving the car forward at a pace that was even slower than the tractor that had blocked our way. “Don’t want to scratch her,” Lev told me. “Her paint’s barely dry.”

  “Gee!” Lilly exclaimed when the castle finally came into view. “It’s just so massive.” I turned in my seat to look at her.
It occurred to me that my sister probably hadn’t seen the castle much since the first day when the family had headed down to watch the barges come in. Or, if she’d gone with Papa, she’d been too busy daydreaming about Walter to notice any progress the workers had made. She wrinkled her nose. “It’s not very pretty, though.”

  “Most castles weren’t built to be beautiful,” Lev told her. “They were built to withstand a siege.” And then he added, “There are some pretty castles in Bavaria, though. My uncle travelled there when I was a kid and he sent me a lot of postcards. Really magical stuff. Straight out of the fairytales.” Thinking it over for a few seconds, he added, “I’d like to travel there one day.”

  My opinion of Lev was growing by leaps and bounds.

  But then he had to go and ruin it all by saying, “I’m descended from royal blood, of course.”

  No one in the car made a response to his comment. It just sounded like such a ridiculous exaggeration that I thought it would be better to ignore it.

  “If I showed my face in Europe, they’d probably try to clap a crown on my head,” Lev told us, just to make matters worse.

  “Is that what they did to your uncle?” Walter asked, causing my sister to giggle.

  “Well, he was invited to visit many of the royal houses,” Lev snapped, unwilling to just let it go. “Royalty recognizes royalty, even if it’s a distant connection.”

  I had promised myself to just sit there and bide my time through the date, but it was just too much. I really couldn’t let Lev keep bragging like he was next in line for the throne of England. “So what’s your lineage?” I asked him.

  “What?” Lev gave me a sharp look.

  “What is your heritage?” I wanted to know. “Which royal families are you descended from and how did you end up here, in America?”

  “That’s right, Lev,” Walter jeered. “Tell us your family tree.”

  The sunlight was almost gone, but I could see Lev growing pink under the collar. “I’ll have to ask my grandfather,” he said in a clenched voice. “He’s the family historian.”