The Vampire Family

by Kristin Battestella

Gaston's fangs extended, and he bit deep into Victoria's neck. She pounded at him with her fists, but he drained the life from her. Slowly her renegade punches ended, and Victoria's body went limp.

  "Vengeance is mine—ahh!"

  A stake embedded in Gaston's back and pinned Victoria's cold body to him. Samantha stood behind the crossbow, and Gaston roared in pain. Jean held a small sword and from his knees hurled the weapon through Victoria and Gaston.

  He screeched again, but the double impalement was complete. The pinned bodies slumped to the floor, and Gaston's lime eyes slowly dimmed and closed.

  "Are they dead?” Jean asked. Samantha dropped the crossbow and ran over to him. “Samantha, are they dead?"

  "If they are not, they soon will be.” She helped Jean up. “We will be too if we don't get out of here!"

  Jean put his arm around Samantha, and they teetered around the flames. Samantha slid past the burning doors, and they squeezed through to the broken staircase. Jean stumbled past a female hand under the fallen beams.

  The couple climbed over the rubble and made it outside. Samantha saw Catrina's body lying still, and Theodore lay fallen nearby.

  "I don't think they'll be bothering us anymore.” Jean stumbled over the bloody Slava.

  "Shhh.” Samantha heard something. “Listen."

  "It's the wood burning,” he said.

  "No. Come this way.” Samantha ran around to the side of the house, and Jean stumbled along after her. She tore at a pile of wood and stone, but Jean watched the side of the house burn.

  "Samantha, this place is going down any minute now,” he pleaded. “There's nothing here."

  "Can't you hear it? A heartbeat. Help me."

  Jean got down and helped remove the stone. “This better not be Antonio."

  Samantha removed a block. A huge animal leaped out and knocked her backward. Jean leaped back, but Samantha laughed. The dog licked her face, and Jean let out a sigh of relief.

  He heard the house creak again. He pulled Samantha up, and they ran behind the house toward the woods. Gaston the dog ran ahead of them, and the side of the mansion crumbled into the blazing fire. Jean and Samantha stopped at the edge of the woods and looked back. Sirens rang in the distance, and the flashing red and blue lights of fire trucks and police cars neared the gates.

  "What do we do now?” She asked Jean.

  "I don't know, but the sun should be up soon.” They disappeared into the woods as lights from a news chopper blazed in the sky.

  "We are above the scene now of this unexplained fire outside the city. Rescue crews are on the way to what is apparently an abandoned home..."

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  Chapter 31

  35 years later

  The radio alarm clock by the bed clicked on when the big red digital numbers turned to five p.m. The classic rock station came on with Meatloaf's Hot Summer Night, and Samantha Welshire sat up in her bed.

  She crawled out of bed and wrestled with the sheets around her ankles. She threw on the faded jeans and boy tee, completing the convenient outfit with a baseball cap and sunglasses.

  Samantha walked slowly down the small stairway of her apartment house, fumbling with her bike every step of the way. She made it out the door and onto the bustling Philadelphia street block, then rode her bike down the busy sidewalk. Buses and cabs flew by, horns blasting. At a newsstand the vendor pulled a chilled mineral water out of his dripping cooler, and she slid the correct change into his hand. She rode down the street to the Children's Museum. The side door opened, and Samantha leaned her bike inside against the wall. Just in time, she clocked in her card.

  Monotony. The same routine day in, day out. That was how Samantha liked it. The locker room was lit with a bulb overhead, and she zipped up her janitor's jumpsuit for the next potentially messy task. Two of her coworkers came to the door and leaned into the dim light. Unlike her casual dress, the man and woman were dressed for their profession—ties, blazers, briefcases.

  Anthropologist Michael Appolito smiled. “Don't you ever go home, Samantha?” He put his arm around Dr. Stephanie Bridges.

  "Don't you ever eat or sleep?” She said. “You've been here all night."

  "Have I?” Samantha checked her watch and played coy. “Twelve hour day for yourselves, then."

  "Yeah.” Michael continued the joke. “Are you some vicious blood sucker who cannibalizes coworkers?"

  Stephanie slapped her brown haired significant other lightly on his arm. “Why don't you come out with us, Samantha?” she said. “Clean up can wait till morning."

  "I'm okay, guys, really.” Samantha shut the locker and walked with them to the side door.

  "You sure?” Michael was tall and husky in contrast to his diminutive companion. Their fine clothes suited them, but both carried a fun and adventurous spirit that aided them in their dirty dig work away from the museum office.

  "You two go.” Samantha pushed them. Her work was no less important.

  "Goodnight, then.” Stephanie went to the driver's side of her beige sedan. Michael waved goodbye to Samantha and slid in the passenger's side. Stephanie got in the car, but was not safe from Samantha's vampire ears.

  "Poor thing."

  Michael fiddled with the radio station. “Must be tough having your boyfriend commit suicide."

  Samantha bolted the door and returned to the locker room. Michael and Stephanie were kind to her, gave her this night shift when all other jobs pressed for daytime work. Yet she knew there was a large amount of pity, and that made her nervous and hungry. She popped open the lid of her plastic container. Inside was a small steak surrounded by its red juices. Samantha grabbed the raw meat and ripped it with her previously delicate hands. She rammed the steak down her throat and tipped the plastic dish toward her lips. The raw juices of the steak dripped into her mouth and down her chin. Samantha splashed water on her face and looked at her dim reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was short and shabby chic—or so she hoped—but there was nothing she could do about her height, which seemed to be shrinking. She dabbed her face dry with a paper towel and looked at herself again.

  Back to work.

  The elevator door parted at the center, and Samantha wheeled her mop and bucket into the cafeteria.

  Wait a minute...?

  She looked over her shoulder as the elevator beeped and shut.

  Who's there?

  The dim cafeteria was empty except for the rows of tables. Why did Samantha feel on her guard? Guilty, as if someone knew her dark secrets. But no one was there, and the floor was dirty.

  Samantha moved on to her next task. She sat on the floor in the gift shop with a clipboard on her lap and merchandise scattered around her. She looked over her shoulder again.

  Who is that? Who is in here?

  A small multicolored ball bounced from behind a display and rolled to her. She picked up the ball and exited the gift shop. Who would taunt her so?

  They must know. Study me for the animal I am. The main attraction, kids! It's a vampire named Samantha!

  She peeked her head through a door, but the offices of the museum were dark.

  * * * *

  Samantha slid her clean food container back into her backpack and shut the locker room door. She ran her fingers through her short blonde hair and sighed.

  A buzzer went off, and a red light flashed above the side door. She jumped, but calmed and unlocked for the shift proper as Michael and Stephanie squeezed into the museum.

  "Everything is clean now,” she said.

  A few spooks during the night hadn't bothered her before. The day had come as always. All should be forgotten.

  "Thanks, Samantha.” Stephanie smiled, but surely her jitters did not go unnoticed.

  "I'm going to get my stuff and be on my way."

  "We'll see you tomorrow,” Michael agreed.

  Samantha exited the locker room with her hat, backpack, and sunglasses poised. She opened the side door and dragged out her bike.


  The ride home was without incident, beyond the traffic and city noise and morning rush hour excitement. The key turned in the lock, and she nudged her apartment door open with her trusty bike. She reached in, flicked up the light switch, and swung the door all the way. Samantha cringed.

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  Chapter 32

  A slender, pale, dark haired young woman sat in Samantha's swivel chair. “You want some help with that?"

  Her hands were clasped, and she spun the chair around slowly, truly oblivious to Samantha's bike struggles despite her offer.

  "What would you know about helping anybody but yourself, Victoria?"

  "Why don't you just fly?” The chair circled around, just the top of her head was visible above the chair back. “That silly bicycle can't be the only transportation in this smoggy city."

  "Philadelphia is the city of brotherly love.” Samantha smirked. “What would you know about that?"

  Victoria jerked the spinning chair to a stop.

  "My brother is dead. You killed him.” She stood, her black dress contrasting Samantha's relaxed jeans.

  "James was my brother, too.” She sighed. “I didn't kill him."

  Intruding farther into the abode, Victoria wandered into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a wine bottle half full of red. She took a swallow, but grimaced as it went down.

  "Where is Jean?"

  Samantha did not answer, but she continued anyway. “We would expect you'd keep the Canuck around a few centuries. After all, you killed all of us for him."

  "I was sure you were dead."

  As dull as her life had become, Samantha would trade for the monotony rather than carry on with Victoria a moment longer. She did trade. She had killed her. What dark way had Victoria found to return?

  Victoria opened and closed cabinets in the kitchen. “The dark magic has its ways. We're hungry."

  "Why are you speaking in the plural?” Samantha asked suddenly.

  "Gaston and I are trapped in here.” Victoria pointed to herself and cut off Samantha's next thought. “Don't ask us a trillion questions of the how and or why sort. This is not an exact science, and you won't be the first to get a doctorate in vampire genealogy if they ever make one."

  "Why are you here, Victoria?” She was blunt. “Those tricks at the museum didn't scare me, either."

  "We weren't at your kiddie museum.” Victoria seemed offended. “It was the Lilithan."

  "Really.” Samantha went into the bedroom and changed. “If you want to play games..."

  "This is no game.” She stood in the bedroom door. Clothes were all over the floor, and the posh woman hesitated before entering.

  "We destroyed the Lilithan five centuries ago.” Samantha slid a new shirt over her head. “A footnote in Father's journals, I'm sure."

  "You destroyed us thirty-five years ago, and here we are."

  "True.” She straightened her clothes and picked a hair scrunchie from the floor. “But I thought Mestiphles got rid of the Lilithan permanently?"

  "He can do whatever he wants, and he wants them back. After all, in our current means, we cannot fulfill our obligations.” Victoria sat on the very corner of the bed and crossed her legs. “It was the Lilithan who came to you at the museum."

  "I did feel a presence...” Samantha plopped down on a pile of clothes, and a bean bag chair squished underneath.

  "We cannot sense the Lilithan, but they are easy to spot among humans."

  "How do you know all this?"

  "We have been in quite high company recently."

  "So there was a presence,” she reaffirmed. “A presence I knew."

  "Well, it can't be one of us. Gaston and I were especially saved to give ourselves our own penance.” She paused. “Who?"

  Samantha climbed out of the clothed chair. “Victoria, please listen."

  "Who?” Her eyes changed color. “You destroy our family, and now you won't tell us who might still live? Memories of names and faces and places pass through this mind every time I blink. Tell us who lives."

  "They don't want you to know."

  Get out of my mind, Victoria. Samantha grinned. “Maybe you should have been nicer when you had the chance."

  "The Lilithan have come back to destroy us. You killed your brother, your mother, and your father. They want you to pay. No one kills their kin, not even us. Mestiphles has sent them to cut down you and any Welshire vampires left. With us out of the way, Lilith can start a whole new world order. We're getting toasted because your playmate couldn't wait a century to see the sun!"

  Samantha smacked her across the cheek. Briefly, there was a distinct red welt against the porcelain white skin. Victoria's eyes swirled with red colors of rage—even after the welt faded away.

  "You are going to find the family, and we will search the streets for new recruits. We will have safety in numbers."

  She spoke for Samantha again, “Don't tell us there are no criminals in this city for we know there are, and don't warn us to not take anyone against their will. We will certainly ask them if it means never hearing you whine about it!"

  * * * *

  Samantha pulled up to the corner bookstore in a black car. The old-fashioned bell on the top of the door chimed, and Samantha entered the musty antiquarian store. A young man came down from the upstairs level.

  "I'm sorry, we're closed.” He spoke above a radio playing Montagues and Capulets. He still appeared as young as when Samantha first met him, but his knowledge outgrew his youthful appearance long ago. He smiled and forgot his last words.

  "Well, well.” He stepped down and hugged her.

  "Theodore! You don't look a day over one hundred."

  He laughed. Scholarly as he was, Theodore hadn't lost his wit in his books. “Yes, my grandfather left me this place. Theodore was his name, of course."

  The laughter and friendly words died down, and the sandy haired man spoke again. “That's a nice car out there. You've done better than you let on."

  "Victoria insisted I get better transportation,” she said.

  "Victoria?” Theodore did not sound excited.

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  Chapter 33

  Victoria came down the steps and slammed the outside door. That was that. Here she was in this dreadful city back in vampire action. The sidewalk flowed with people, and she glimpsed at all the yummy shapes and sizes in the dim light of the sunset. She saw a man walk out of the alleyway across the street. He hurried yet tried to look casual—leather jacket, dark edge. Victoria used her unusual magic and looked at his memory of the alleyway.

  A dead woman, violated and choked, in the trash where she belongs.

  Victoria crossed the street and followed the man. The natural assassin shook his dark shaved head, and his muscular arms relaxed. He felt he was a safe distance from the crime scene. She saw the memory of the alley leave him, and he approached another woman standing by a new alleyway. Victoria smiled.

  We want to see this.

  Victoria stood behind the dumpster and watched her newfound prodigy in action. He choked his victim and completed the unwanted violation all humans dreaded.

  Crude methods, but nothing we can't fix.

  The victim was tough. It took him a while to make sure she was good and dead; then the lifeless victim fell among the bags of trash. Victoria stepped quietly into view. Her protégé looked at her.

  "Who the hell are you?” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “What? You want some of this, too?” The man stepped closer and took in her dark clothes and pale skin. He saw the snake band around her bicep and the pendants hanging on her neck. “What are you? Some sorta witch or goth freak or some shit like that?"

  Victoria tried not to smile. She leaped out of the shadows, and the man jumped back. He fell to the ground, and she was there without hesitation. She grabbed the man's head and exposed the pulsing neck. Her eyes swirled red and hungry. Her fangs extended, and she punctured the vein.
<
br />   Samantha, hurry!

  She jerked her car to a stop in front of the alley, and Victoria dragged her prodigy by his leather jacket.

  Samantha opened the back door. “He's not dead, is he?"

  Victoria took a second and looked at the car, then dumped the man inside. “If he were dead, why would we still be lugging him around?” She climbed into the backseat.

  Samantha ran around the car and got in the driver's seat. “Why did you take so much?” She quickly started the car and sped away.

  "We got carried away. Where are we going?"

  "The museum."

  The vampire sisters took care not to be seen as they took Victoria's victim from the car to the museum basement. Victoria sat on the edge of the fainting couch with her prodigy. “This is a very nice place you have here."

  The French styled basement had some cobwebs about.

  "Jean decorated it several years ago.” Samantha dusted off the end table. “We lived here for a while."

  Victoria looked at the open style. Paintings were hung, rugs were layered on the floor, and a coffin surrounded by candles was in the corner. “We like it."

  "Will you please stop talking like that?” Samantha threw her dust rag and slumped in a chair.

  "We can't help it,” Victoria said. “Gaston's here, too. Neither of us dominates. We just coexist. Sort of."

  The protégé stirred and woke with a slow look around. “Where am I?"

  Samantha leaned over him as Victoria addressed the prodigy. “We have a proposition for you."

  "Are you interested, Caine Peters?” She smiled, but there was a banging noise upstairs. Victoria looked to the ceiling.

  "Oh, no,” Samantha said. “Michael and Stephanie are here."

  "Who's Michael and Stephanie?” Victoria mumbled. Samantha ran up the spiral stairs, but Victoria followed her and grabbed Samantha's arm. “Will they know we're here if you don't tell them?"

  "No, but...” She tried to continue up the stairs.

  "The car is in the garage next door?"

  "Yes."

  "We must remain hidden,” Victoria said sternly. “They must not see."

  "They are my friends. I will not deceive them."