The Vampire Family

by Kristin Battestella

  Her father's arm rested on the high-backed chair, but the frame concealed the rest of him.

  "Father?” She looked around the chair. “Father!"

  Antonio's favorite dress robe wrapped around the posed, bony white skeleton in the chair. Victoria jumped, then laughed with a joyous echo.

  "Victoria!” Antonio appeared from the darkness behind her. His tall blonde head showed clear, but his black suit blended with the darkness. “My youngest child, my oldest fledgling."

  He pulled his robe from the skeleton and flung the bones to the floor. He wiped away the chalky telltale signs of the bones, put on his robe, and sat down. His shrewdness and ability to not be seen if he so chose served him well for war or games.

  "I knew you were here somewhere.” Victoria rubbed a chill away from her arms and teetered on the arm of the chair.

  I am, after all, Father's favorite!

  "How long has it been?” Antonio asked her.

  "By mother's account, one hundred and seven years yesterday."

  "How old are you now?"

  "A lady never, never tells.” She turned uppity.

  Antonio took a full glass from the small table and handed it to Victoria. He poured another drink from the red bottle for himself, and with a clink of glasses, Antonio toasted his daughter.

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  Chapter 18

  Elizabeth sewed by the fireplace in her bedroom. Her nocturnal eyes didn't need any more than the fire's light to sew the old gown. The door opened, and a slender, white hand with red nails flicked up the light switch.

  "I received a letter from the Army.” Ann Welshire stood quietly in her low cut red gown. Her contempt had seeped into her fashion, and her blonde hair was cut into a jagged bob. Ann's defensive stance and edgy feeling mimicked her feline manner.

  "Has James been wounded?” Elizabeth put away the sewing materials and didn't bother to look at her sister.

  "They think Stephen was killed."

  "What do you intend to do?” Elizabeth showed little concern. “You've told me time and again Stephen is your son, not mine."

  Ann put her hands on her hips. “I am going to the hospital where his body was shipped and then properly dispose of those who know. We must not let them see."

  Elizabeth walked toward the door. “I'll have dinner prepared for you when you return."

  Ann crossed her arms. “I am really sick of you. You are not better than me."

  "I am Antonio's wife, and our daughter was his first fledgling."

  "I am his mistress now. Don't forget that."

  Elizabeth smacked Ann across the face. Her vampire strength came forth, and Elizabeth's tall blonde rival tumbled over the chair and into the fire. Screeches came from the flames, and the blackened and charred Ann leaped from the fire and jumped onto Elizabeth. The siblings rivaled to the floor.

  "You bitch!” Ann's shiny white teeth showed vividly against her fleshy and burned body. A quick dose of flames only scorched for a little while, but it hurt like hell. She pounded Elizabeth's head on the floor. “You know what trouble we have with fire!"

  Elizabeth escaped into a female wolf with ruby red eyes. All her lineage took on the dog-like bend, where Ann's descendants had developed the contrary ability to become purely feline. She countered Elizabeth and slinked into a black cat. They rolled on the floor as they gnawed at each other. The jaguar took a vicious swat at the wolf's neck, and the wolf chewed on the cat's ear.

  "Stop!"

  Antonio stood in the doorway and straightened his dark double-breasted coat. Elizabeth quickly returned to her normal appearance. The cuts on her neck engraved from Ann's cat paw slowly closed until no scars remained. Ann transformed herself just as quickly, and her chewed ear healed within seconds. The women stood next to each other and looked sheepishly at Antonio.

  "What is this about? Look at this! How are we ever going to govern a world of vampires if you two can't stop fighting each other? No wonder we are so far behind. Maybe I should send you two to Mestiphles? That would put a chill up your fur coats!"

  Always sly, Ann straightened her gown. “I am not behind in my duties. However, I cannot say the same for others."

  "Speaking of behind.” Elizabeth hissed back. They stepped face to face, and their eyes changed color with rage.

  "Ladies, sisters, lovers.” Antonio separated them. “Beasts."

  Both women looked at him, but he put his arms around them. “This petty bickering must stop. How long has this feud been going on? Five hundred years?” Antonio knew he was the cause of their troubles. The women's rivalry had been on since the beginning. Perhaps before he had killed his parents and received Mestiphles’ dark offers. He liked that they fought over him—when they stayed in line. Antonio pulled Ann aside. “Get Stephen and bring him here to me."

  He kissed Ann on the forehead, and Elizabeth stomped out of the room. “Go.” Antonio smiled at Ann, but followed his wife.

  * * * *

  Ann turned to the balcony. The doors burst open with her telepathic force, and a rush of cold air blew the drapes. She walked onto the balcony and looked down at the setting sun darkening the countryside. With ease, Ann lifted herself up and let the wind carry her into the night.

  She learned long ago how to lie on the wind, the currents carrying her above mortal sights and to any destination. She drifted towards the jungles in no time. The Army Hospital in Da Nang was packed with dead, wounded, and dying bloody bodies. Ann licked her lips—fresh blood, fresh meat!

  Some other time.

  She found her way through the dark halls and piles of bodies using both physical capabilities and her keen cat senses and night vision.

  Flying was too risky.

  Somewhere down the hall, a radio played Little Red Riding Hood. Ann sneered at these petty humans.

  Ann slinked to the morgue. She felt her son's presence and burst through the swinging doors.

  Stephen ... Stephen! She called telepathically, and a faint thumping from the cold stacks answered her. She had become cold hearted and desensitized over the years, but the pull of a mother's will had never left her.

  I'm coming, Stephen!

  Ann unlocked the latch with her mind, and the door swung open. Stephen tumbled free with a thump and a squish, for his green uniform was drenched in blood. Ann grabbed him and held him, rocking slowly back and forth with Stephen in her arms. Too weak to resist, the wild and wayward son rested along his mother's bosom. She wiped the blood from his face, revealing his light features and blue eyes. His hair was crusted with blood, and Ann patted his head gently.

  "They shot James,” Stephen whispered and barely got the words out. “I tried to get to him, but they got me, too."

  "It's all right. Everything is going to be fine."

  "James ... James ... did he get out? Is James okay?” Stephen's words were faint, but no less important. Their mothers’ feud did not fall to the brothers in arms. Stephen and James’ loyalty ran triple deep—brothers, vampires, war.

  "Yes, he got away. James is home safe. Now drink.” Ann only thought of her son. She put her wrist to his mouth. He bit as hard as he could and punctured the vein. Her blood rushed into him with its healing fire. It ran down his throat and into his system, where it would make his body tingle. His skin glowed a healthier white, and he took his mouth away from his mother's wrist.

  "I've had enough for now,” he spoke louder than before. “How are we leaving?"

  "Can you transform?"

  Stephen nodded and turned into the cat. Ann unlocked and pushed opened the window with her powers then morphed her appearance. The wild beasts leaped out the window and into the wet jungle night.

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  Chapter 19

  Antonio entered the dining room quickly. After halting the women's quarrel, he had rushed to change to another suit from his all black collection. The shiny dinner table was lined with eight places on each side. Elizabeth sat at one end—making her plac
e as female host evident—and the chair at the head was for Antonio. No silverware, knifes, forks, spoons, nor a plate or a glass, nothing was on the table.

  Victoria sat on her mother's left. Places for Ann and Stephen were to the left of Antonio's chair, but they were empty, just like James’ seat next to Victoria. Fledglings floated into the room and took their respective seats. Sarah entered and sat near Angelo. Occasionally the dark haired Celtic warrior of old held Antonio's favor, but not in many years. Angelo was a pup compared to her, the eldest vampire not humanly related to the Welshires. The boy was like her long lost brother William—youthful and jubilant for the cause. Antonio looked at Victoria's style and sensed her demeanor. She had, ironically enough, become just as Gaston had been. Ambitious, selfish, and cold hearted. Antonio was intimately familiar with his elusive eldest son. At least his eldest and youngest were both like him. Victoria smiled in her chair and struck up conversation with Theodore. His intellect and philosophical debates were amusing to her. That's what most of her fledglings were, amusing until the next one came along.

  "At ease, fledglings.” Antonio looked at his watch. The needle jabbed the label of The Stones’ Time is on My Side, but he continued to restlessly eye his watch. He could not wait for Ann and yelled into the kitchen. “Bring out the food!"

  A frail human with grayish skin and bags under his eyes came through the kitchen's swinging doors. A cloth stretcher leaned on his shoulder. Brief blood exchanges kept them submissive and docile, and another zombified servant followed and supported the end of the cot. They laid the wrap on the table, lifted the cover sheet, and revealed a living, screaming woman.

  Antonio reached for the girl as she screamed louder and louder. He grabbed her leg and ripped it off at the knee. Crunch. Blood flung onto his face, and Antonio licked his lips to taste her blood. Victoria snapped off the screaming girl's hand and bit off a finger hungrily. The other vampires aligning the table stood up and fought for a scrap of flesh.

  All but Samantha Welshire.

  Antonio observed his eldest daughter. She sat next to Stephen's empty chair. Unfortunate for her that she was not invisible—she had never developed that particular gift. Her short blonde hair and blue eyes gave resemblance to him, but Samantha's eyes did not hold her twin Stephen's flair for blood lust. They never had, and they never would.

  "Samantha, why aren't you eating?” Antonio tore the foot from the calf he possessed.

  "I ate before dinner.” She bit her queasy lip. “A nice, large man."

  Antonio gave Samantha a second glance. He knew her deceit, no doubt, but continued his meal.

  * * * *

  The clang of the heavy front door echoed as Stephen entered the dining area, leaning on Ann's shoulder. Samantha ran to them, and he collapsed on her. He could never understand her lack of vampiric interests, but the brother and sister had been there for each other a time or two.

  The fair side of the family took their seats, and the vampire sitting across from Stephen gave him a large hunk of flesh.

  "Thank you, Eric.” The brutish Viking was their mother's lover, but he became more like a father to Samantha and Stephen than Antonio. Their real father was, of course, always divided between them.

  Stephen smiled as he looked up and down the table. Sarah picked up a small chunk of flesh that dropped from Eric's piece. Angelo tore the twirled intestines from the girl's abdominal area. His woman, Jessica, had just returned to the mansion when Stephen was sent to Vietnam, or so her letter said when it finally reached him. He would partake of her kinky ways after dinner. Stephen hadn't seen Slava since he “disappeared” after the fall of Imperial Russia, but the Kiowa, Rain, was one of Victoria's ever growing circle of friends. Eddie still wore grease in his hair and rolled cigarettes in his sleeve, and Theodore was back from his latest grant study. Stephen eyed James’ seat.

  Empty.

  Stephen turned to his mother. She read his thoughts and shrugged lightly.

  "Victoria, you haven't met my newest work of art.” Elizabeth looked to the man sitting beside her. Stephen observed him as well. “This is Jean, my newest fledgling from Quebec."

  He was young, strong. He could be the perfect vampire, if he wanted to be. Unfortunately, Stephen could tell by his demeanor that was not to be the case. Jean hated the moon, black skies, dark oceans, and probably hated Elizabeth most of all. Jean leaned back and eyed Samantha. She looked at him and smiled back.

  "Your only fledgling.” Victoria mumbled. She ripped her dinner with her teeth. “When were you made?"

  "Last year,” Jean spoke softly, but that didn't diminish his hard physique.

  "Have you made any fledglings yet?” Victoria yapped to Jean, and he shook his head no.

  "Well, what are you waiting for? The Masquerade is coming. It's the perfect time to pick a few humans."

  "He has no time for that, dear.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “He cannot go out in the daytime, and his nights are spent with me."

  Antonio showed some care for his wife and took over again. “Let us welcome back Victoria!"

  The vampires around the table cheered and hollered. The equally beautiful and gothic Catrina reluctantly clapped, and Victoria sneered at her. James’ fledgling was the only thing that could come between him and his sister.

  "How long has it been since we last saw each other?” Theodore asked Victoria. Their relationship was never uneventful. He was interested in knowledge, and Stephen could tell she was stubborn as ever.

  "Oh, was it eighty?” Victoria licked some blood off her fingers. She tried to get the blood out from under her nails while Theodore spoke. Typical.

  "Seems like only yesterday."

  "It's been so long and so many others have come and gone.” Victoria figured. “Let's see 1880 and 1971? You're only ninety-one?"

  "I've made it into the countdown.” Theodore smiled. “Nine more years."

  "Try ninety-eight years,” Jean mumbled, and Elizabeth gave him a sideways glance.

  "Yes, but let me tell you, it's been worth it."

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  Chapter 20

  St. Louis, 1876

  Victoria arrived fresh from an eight-year sleep—recuperation from a little incident back in North Carolina. She stepped off the train wearing a fashionable red silk dress customary to the time, right down to the lace trimmed hat and gloves. Victoria always made a fashion statement—anytime, anywhere.

  Theodore sat on a bench by the telegraph office—young, alone, crying. He wore only rags, and there was a little carpetbag on the ground next to him.

  This boy could be something special!

  "Are you all right?” Victoria walked to him.

  "My father told me never to talk to strangers."

  "Well.” Victoria unbuttoned and removed her gloves. She offered her hand to Theodore and sat down on the bench next to him. “My name is Victoria. And your name is?"

  "Theodore.” He blew his nose. “Theodore Plunkett.” He blew his nose again. He shook Victoria's hand, and she tried not to show her disgust at his snot's newfound place on her hand.

  She cleared her throat. “Well, now, Theodore, we're not strangers any more, are we?"

  "No, I guess not."

  Fifteen?

  "Now.” She handed him her handkerchief. “What is the matter?"

  "My father died recently, and I've come to live with my great aunt."

  "You sound like you don't want to live with your aunt.” Victoria smiled. “Would you like to come live with me instead?"

  "My great aunt is expecting me in an hour.” He checked his gold pocket watch.

  "Theodore, would you rather live with me?"

  You want to live with me. You do.

  "Well.” He paused for a moment. “Yes'um. You're much nicer than that old hag. Prettier, too."

  He's much too young. I already made that mistake with Angelo.

  "Then, it's settled. You're coming to live with me.” Victoria put her arm around Theodore a
nd smiled.

  "What about the old hag?"

  "Don't worry. I'll take care of her."

  That evening, Victoria crept out of the mansion she “inherited.” She wore all black, a simply cut nightgown and cape. Nothing like what the time period indicated. The old hag's house was a few miles away, and Victoria reached the home in good time. The house was big, very big.

  Why didn't I pick her as my benefactor?

  She breathed out deeply, and Victoria watched the cloud of gas disappear into the night. She looked up at the smoke coming from the chimney and smiled. She relaxed and turned herself into the mist. She wasn't even sure how she did it, but she did know that for some reason, only she and James shared this strange power. Where she had altered her dark powers for deception, James seemed to gain the ability through his shyness and desire to be invisible.

  The mist made its way up into the sky. It circled around and climbed up the chimney, then spiraled down its opening. Down it went brick by brick until the mist came out into a quaint little living room. The old hag Auntie sat in the rocking chair by the window, knitting an ugly sweater. The mist swiveled around the chair, and good old Auntie paid it no mind. The mist went through the old hag, wrapping itself around her windpipe. It squeezed. It pulled. It twisted. The hag coughed and cackled violently. The mist pushed, twisted, squeezed harder and harder. The gagging and gurgles continued. The mist further strengthened its grip, and then there was silence. Old Auntie was dead.

  * * * *

  Victoria never told Theodore what happened, and he never asked. For three years, the two of them lived together in the mansion, and Victoria even legally bought a shop that made coffins. Theodore thought it fit and amused her. For those three years, Theodore never questioned, but then he began to wonder. Victoria spent much time with the dead patrons when they first arrived and was very ... well ... hands on with the bodies.

  "How come you never eat with me?” He asked one evening. The two of them sat at the ornate dinner table. “All I ever see you digest is the wine."

  Theodore continued his display of evidence. “My father used to say grace before we ate, but you never do. You give me everything I ask for, and I have the finest teachers, but..."