The Vampire's Daughter Read online

  When the service was over, the parishioners all lined up for Communion. When she approached the priest, she tried not to smile at Ethan, robed in green and standing on the priest's left side, holding the plate of wafers and cup of wine. The priest blessed her; she thanked him and then returned to her seat.

  After the final "Amen," the congregation silently filed out into the street, taking their winter gear and thanking Father James as they passed him. He solemnly took Victoria's hand as she left, and she gave him a personal gift of alms to pray for her mother. He kindly thanked her as she descended the wooden steps.

  She headed to the warmth of the local tavern for a hot cup of tea while she waited for Ethan to finish his duties at the church. The tavern, which was also the town lodge and meeting hall, was just opening. Sara, who was the barkeep's daughter, was putting on a pot of mutton stew to feed the crowd that would be arriving shortly.

  Victoria found a small table off to the side of the room. Sara came over, wiped the table down and took a seat across from Victoria.

  "Nice to see you today, Victoria," Sara said. "That's a pretty dress. Is it new?"

  "Thank you. Yes, it was a Christmas gift." Victoria said, smiling. "You were missed at services this morning."

  "Aye, well, Papa has not been feeling well lately. I had to set up everything myself and help take care of him as well."

  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he feels better soon."

  Sara's face dropped, and Victoria could see the look of worry in her eyes. "He's been getting worse lately it seems. I don't know what's wrong with him."

  Victoria took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he will be all right. Once this cold weather clears up, he will be back to his grumpy old self in no time." Sara smiled, and Victoria giggled.

  "Sara!" a voice boomed from across the room. "Get over here before the food burns!" Victoria jumped at the voice of Sara's father.

  "I guess you were right," Sara said with a grin as she ran off back to the kitchen.

  Sara's father glared at Victoria and followed Sara into the back, coughing along the way.

  When Victoria had returned to the village, she and Sara had also tried to rekindle their friendship, but Sara's father would not allow it. He never said explicitly that the girls could not be friends or what was wrong with Victoria, but his disdain was clear, and he always had some excuse as to why Sara could not associate with Victoria. After a while, the girls gave up on ever being more than friendly acquaintances.

  The smell of stew filled the room, waking Victoria's hunger. She waited to order any food, though, until Ethan arrived. The food she ate at the tavern never really satisfied her anyway. It never tasted quite like the food Helena prepared.

  The thought of seeing Ethan made her anxious. She longed for his companionship. The castle, even with her father's female servants, was an incredibly lonely and cavernous place. Because her father and the women slept during the day, she often spent her days cooped up to read by candlelight or in other solitary activities.

  Ethan, even though he was a member of the community, also spent most of his evenings alone. He was an only child who was taken in by the kindly old priest after the death of his mother to a fever when he was nine. His father was assumed dead the year before that when he had left the village to try to reach another town for supplies and never returned. The village was completely self-contained and mostly self-sufficient. People never left and newcomers rarely moved in. When the townsfolk never recovered the body of Ethan's father, everyone assumed he was yet another victim of the wolves or other monsters that inhabited the woods as soon as the sun went down.

  However, Ethan was not left wanting. His family had a large landholding on the edge of town that was profitable because of its tenant farmers. When the boy became an orphan, the house was boarded up and many of the animals and possessions sold. The priest offered Ethan a place in the church as an altar boy and let him live in the little parish house the town provided for the members of the church. It was natural for Ethan to live with the men of God. Ever since he was a small boy, he felt a calling toward the church. The priest and friars were a good influence on him, and they encouraged him to follow a course that would lead him closer to God. He never even thought about the lovely cottage or having a family of his own. His evenings were spent in study and deep conversations with the priest about God's will.

  That changed a few years before, when he was working in the parish garden and he looked up and saw a familiar face in the trees looking back at him. At first, he thought her to be a spirit haunting the woods because she quickly ran off. The next time he saw her, though, he knew who it was. He could never forget that smile and those dark, glassy eyes he knew so well as a child. She had such an angelic face, he would know her anywhere. Over the following months, several people in town gossiped about the return of Hannah's daughter, but it was Ethan who finally approached Victoria, held out a welcoming hand, and escorted her back into their lives. Ever since then, someone else crowded his thoughts at night.

  Ethan entered the tavern and saw Victoria sitting alone waiting for him and his heart leapt. She was such a beautiful young woman, and he could not believe she was there waiting for him. She always seemed to appear like a vision to him, coming out of the woods or sitting across a smoky room. Whenever he was with her, he was afraid to look away, afraid she would vanish as quickly as she had appeared.

  When she first returned to the village, Ethan was experiencing many physical changes in his life; his nose seemed too big for his face and his arms and legs were too long for his body, which made him clumsy, awkward, and self-conscious. But Victoria did not care how he looked. She just saw the boy she was friends with and the young man who accepted her and made her feel welcome without thought for his own comfort or possible exclusion from the community. Over the last couple of years, though, he had become one of the most handsome young men around. At almost twenty, his sandy blonde hair wisped over his forehead and ears. His green eyes sparkled like pools of green glass. He was muscular from years of physical labor, and his whole body lengthened and broadened to match his gangly limbs. Every girl in town wanted him to look at her the way he looked at Victoria. But the girls were discouraged from pursuing Ethan, by the priest and their own families. It was common knowledge that Ethan was bound for a life of self-sacrifice for God and would one day follow Father James' footsteps as their spiritual leader. There was even talk of him possibly attempting to leave the village to continue his religious studies in a larger city. But as Victoria's only link to the community, she dreaded the day he might leave her.

  "I was glad to see you today. I thought I might have been blessed with your presence when I awoke to such a glorious gloom," he said as he sat down, placing a book on the table.

  "Yes, I felt the need to thank God for the ability to be outside even with such cursedly fair skin. If only every day could be so dark," she replied.

  "Well, in spite of your love for the clouds, He must make the sun shine upon the righteous sometimes. He promised to."

  "I am very well aware of that, so I have decided to thank Him personally for each and every sunless day I get."

  "Well, good for you! I think we should eat to that. Sara!" he called, raising his voice and arm toward the bar. "Two bowls!" Sara nodded in acknowledgement and prepared a platter with stew, fresh baked bread, and hot coffee.

  "Are you finished with my book?" she asked him, picking up the red leather book he had brought.

  "Yes," he said. "I couldn't put it down."

  "I am glad you liked it," she said.

  "I did not think I would like poetry so much, but some of those really spoke to me," Ethan said.

  "Really?" she asked. "Which ones?"

  "Well, there are a few that I don't really understand, but they are about a dark lady. 'My mistress' eyes are raven black', and 'I swear beauty herself is black'."

  "Really?" Victoria asked. "Why did you like those?"

  "T
hey reminded me of you," he said.

  His compliment made her blush, which made her embarrassed. She hoped he wouldn't see the color change in her face in their little corner booth. His kind words were only the sympathies of a platonic friend. For her to feel a rush of heat at such a simple phrase was foolish of her. She paused for so long, Ethan worried he might have offended her. He was thankful that the food arrived at that moment. Victoria cleared her throat and placed the book back on the table.

  "Well, it should remind you of me," she finally said.

  "Why is that?" he asked.

  "Because it's my book," she said.

  They both laughed, relieved that the awkward moment had passed, and they enjoyed their lunch. They talked of the weather, the townspeople, the peculiar actions of winter chipmunks and other such silly topics. When they finished, they went back out into the cold and he helped her put her heavy cloak back over her slender shoulders. He asked if she would mind walking with him for a while before she had to return home. He offered her his arm, and she gladly accepted. They walked down the main path through the village and waved to Gregory as they ambled past the stable. They wandered past the cemetery with tombstones dating back over five centuries and past the old bachelor's home where many of the single men who worked for the lumber mill lived. They sauntered past the house her aunt and uncle used to live in that was presently occupied by a newly married couple. They walked north of town a little ways and wound up in front of Ethan's childhood home. He stopped walking, and she gave him an inquisitive look.

  "Why have we stopped?" she asked.

  He did not say; he just looked at the house out of the corners of his eyes. She looked at the house and back to Ethan.

  "Yes, Ethan I see the house. What are we doing here?" she asked more slowly. He grinned widely and motioned with his head toward the house. She scoffed and turned to face the house and stared at it. She realized what was different about it. "Oh, my goodness!" she gasped. "The boards are gone!" The house had all new windows in it, the walk had been freshly swept that morning, and the small picketed gate looked brand new. "What happened? Did you sell it? It looks so homey," she said.

  "Have you ever been in the house?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she replied. "I remember playing in the yard, but I don't remember what the inside of the house looked like at all."

  "Let's have a look," he said, taking her hand and leading her up the cobblestone walkway.

  She had been completely unaware of what had happened to Ethan during the years she was away. Since she had returned, he had told her all about his parent's deaths and his plans to join the priesthood. The house had all but been forgotten, except as a way to support Ethan when he eventually would sell it and the money would take him away from this place. He opened the door for her and the glow from a fireplace lit up her face. There was all new furniture, including a dining table with six chairs, a couch with leather cushions, and a bookshelf filled with books. The place had been completely cleaned, not a piece of dust nor a spider remained. After a decade of neglect, she remarked that it must have taken months to fix up everything. She took off her cape in the warm room and laid it over one of the carved chairs.

  "No, it only took a few weeks to clean up and repair," he said.

  "But why?" she asked. "If it's not sold yet, are you putting it up for sale? Is someone from town buying it?"

  "No, I'm not selling it," he finally admitted. He was still smiling as if he knew the punchline to a joke she didn't understand.

  "Ethan!" she shrieked. "Tell me what is going on!" He almost laughed at her impatience. "Tell me, or I'll pinch you black and blue!" she reached over and pinched the skin on his forearm as hard as she could. It tickled more than hurt.

  "Ah!" he yelled, backing away from her and almost tripping over a chair. "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! I've received an apprenticeship!" The suddenness of the completely unexpected news shocked her. She immediately released him.

  "What?" she asked.

  "I'm going to be a carpenter's apprentice," he said more slowly.

  "Yes, I heard you," she said confused. "I just don't understand. How can you have an apprenticeship? You can't be an apprentice. You have to go to Rome for seminary school."

  "No, Mr. Jenkins, the carpenter, offered me an apprenticeship in his shop since his son will be the new foreman at the mill. I fixed up the house so I can live here while I work for Mr. Jenkins."

  "I still don't understand," she said, sitting on one of the dining chairs. "Why would you want to be an apprentice to a carpenter? Aren't you going to try to go to the Church's university in Rome in a few months?" He could hear the anxiety and confusion in her voice. He stopped smiling, pulled out a chair, and sat facing her.

  "No, Victoria, I am not going to enter the priesthood. I have decided to take another path." His tone was so happy. She knew what it meant.

  "You've met someone," she said. "You have forsaken the priesthood because you've met someone, haven't you?"

  "Yes, Victoria. I have finally decided that I would like to be married and have a family."

  She took a deep breath and felt tears fill her eyes. She lowered her head and looked at her hands lying in her lap. She had known the day would arrive when he would leave her. He had always planned on joining the priesthood and serving in a small town not unlike the one they grew up in. The only solace she took in his eventual abandonment of her was that he would be leaving her to answer a higher calling. If she couldn't be with him, at least he wouldn't be with anyone else, either. There were no other marriage prospects for her to consider. The rest of the townfolk basically ignored her. Her father had never discussed the possibility of any arranged marriage he may have planned. She had come to accept that very soon she would be alone, but the thought of Ethan being with another woman while she sat up in her castle all alone made her feel dejected, instead of proud of the sacrifice she made by not standing in the way of one of God's servants.

  Ethan could sense her sadness and could not bear to cause her even the slightest bit of pain. "Victoria," he said. She could not look at him. She bit her lip to keep from crying and just kept looking at her hands. He gently reached over and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. A single disobedient tear defied her will and ran down her cheek. "Victoria, my beautiful Victoria. It's you. The girl I want to marry is you."

  "Wh-what? Why?" she stammered. She stopped feeling sorry for herself as his words sunk in.

  "I've tried to suppress my feelings for you, but I just can't."

  "I guess you didn't try hard enough!" she said, rising from her chair. "Do you think I haven't fantasized about you and me together, about being something more than friends? But I would never have given voice to my feelings. Not that I have ever had such thoughts about you. I mean I'm not saying I don't have feelings for you, but I shouldn't and I wouldn't admit it if I did!" She was pacing and couldn't catch her breath. Is this what she wanted? Could she ever live with the guilt? Could she really face the alternative if she rebuffed him and he did leave?

  "Victoria." He stood and held her in his arms. "You're not making any sense. Calm down; the world is not going to end just because I finally admit that I love you."

  "But you're not supposed to love me," she said, looking up at his gentle face.

  "Well, it isn't really something we have control over," he replied. "You have been a wonderful friend and there has never been any improper action on your part. You have never knowingly tempted me away from my Godly course."

  "Knowingly?" she asked.

  "'The fuel has been small, but, oh, the fire so great.' I know you have been careful about our friendship, careful about not giving me false hope about a life together. You have been very strong and supportive about the possibility of my leaving for seminary. But the love grew anyway. You have such a righteous spirit. I can see it through the attention you pay to your spirituality. And you treat everyone with kindness. And you're so generous. And even though the world around you is dar
k, your smile is so bright! And when I enter your presence, you make me feel like I am someone uniquely special just because you grace me with even a moment of your time." As he rambled, she felt the urge to cry again. His words were so pure and honest; she could not believe anyone loved her that much except her father.

  "My father," she whispered. "He will not be happy. We are so young."

  "I am not saying I want to run back over to the church and get married right now," he said. "I want to wait a while. Maybe in two or three years, after I've established myself as a carpenter and have more money saved up, we can begin seriously thinking about setting a date. I just could not go another day without letting you know how I feel. I'm making a promise to you that I will marry you and only you when we are both ready. As for your father, I can only hope he will eventually give us his blessing. Maybe I can even meet him one day soon."

  Despite their love for each other and the countless hours they spent talking, he knew very little about her father and the other women she lived with. He did think it was odd he had never even seen her father, but she spoke of his love and concern for her often. She only referred to the women as servants; she never spoke about their oddities.

  "I will not be a good wife to you," she lamented. "I cannot cook or sew. I know nothing of children."

  "You have time to learn. Perhaps your servants, Jessenda or Tessa, can begin teaching you. And as for children," he blushed a little, "why don't we just take things one step at a time."

  She lightly chuckled at his embarrassment. "'All I ask, is just this much, my love: let me be loved by you, or else not loved be'."

  She closed her eyes and kissed his hand. "I promise," she whispered.

  "I will not be able to provide for you in the same manner as your father," he said. "Fashionable gowns and expensive jewelry will be a rare luxury, but you will never suffer for anything. I will take good care of you."

  "Of that I am sure," she said, looking up into his eyes. "I have forbidden myself from loving you for so long. I cannot believe this is happening."