The Vampire's Daughter

by Leigh Anderson

  "What?" he asked. He reached a reassuring hand to her and rubbed her shoulder. "What is it?"

  "It's …maybe we could not do that today. I still have not confessed from last time, and it has been a bad couple of days. Things have not gone well at home. I don't need any more sin on my conscience right now."

  "Oh, sweetie. That's all right," he said. "Don't worry about it. I don't want to do anything you're not comfortable with."

  "Have you talked to Father James yet? I really need to see him."

  "Oh, yes. I did speak to him…" He didn't want to tell her what Father James had said, but he did not want to lie to her, either. "He was not happy, as expected," he said. "He still wants me to go to Rome, of course."

  "Of course he would," she agreed.

  "He is still upset; I doubt he would absolve you of anything right now. Or me for that matter. I actually never confessed after last time either. Don't worry, though, I am sure that in a few days, he will calm down and see that we are doing the right thing."

  "I hope so," she said.

  "Did you tell your father?" he asked.

  "No, I have not been feeling well; I have not even seen him since Sunday. I think my nerves are making me tense. It has only been a couple of days; there is still plenty of time."

  "We have all the time in the world," he said and smiled. His tone and happy demeanor calmed her so much she almost forgot about the wolves, and the priest, and the way the people in town were acting, and the women back home. All she wanted was to be with him forever. She leaned over and gave him an enticing kiss.

  "I thought you were feeling guilty!" he said, pushing her gently away.

  "If I die without confessing my already many and egregious sins, I suppose it makes no difference if I have one more added to the list, does it?"

  "No, I suppose it doesn't!" he said, climbing onto her, wrapping his arms all the way around her, holding her just as close and tight as he could. He rolled over and let her lay on his chest as they kissed. She straddled him to keep from falling over. She ran her tongue down his neck and kissed his chest. He reached down, pulled up her dress and caressed both of her legs. He ran his hands up to the top of her thigh-high stockings and touched her soft skin. She put the full weight of her body on top of him and he kissed her forehead. He slowly removed one of her stockings, feeling her bare, exposed skin from her thigh to her toes. He then removed the other stocking, a little more quickly this time.

  Victoria breathed heavily; the room was hot. Ethan was burning for her. Ethan's hot breath on her skin was almost more than she could handle. She reached a hand under his shirt and touched the skin of his rigid stomach. The sensation of her cold touch on his skin made Ethan gasp, but he took it as a sign that the shirt needed to be removed. He sat up and took it off while she still straddled his lap. He sucked and bit her neck and chest and caressed her thighs while she ran her fingers through his hair. The way his muscles had a slightly moist sheen in the subdued light filtering in from the window dressings excited her.

  She reached around her back to try to find the many buttons that ran from her neckline to her waist. Ethan's hands followed hers and realized what she was trying to do. He laughed a little, out of surprise and joy. He had an easier time removing the buttons from their loops than she did. He only got about halfway down when he thought the dress would be loose enough to take off. They both got up on their knees and he helped pull the heavy gown over her head. His face sank for a moment when he saw the full-length shift she was wearing underneath a fully laced corset. She laughed when she saw his expression.

  "You did not think it was going to be that easy, did you?" she asked.

  "Sorry if I seem a bit eager," he said.

  She felt relieved; she could breathe better and she felt lighter with the gown off. Ethan kissed her while she ran her fingers down his naked back. He reached around her and began pulling at the laces of her corset. She did not protest. She did not care if Helena noticed the lacings or not. She did not care if her father found out. What could he do about it after it was already done? If she gave herself to Ethan, let him have her most prized possession, it was hers to give. Ethan removed the corset and laid himself fully on top of her. She undid the top button on his pants. She moved her fingers deeper inside his pants to undo the next one and he groaned in anticipation.

  "Victoria," he said, propping himself up and looking at her. "Victoria. I love you so much." He reached up and brushed some stray hairs away from her face. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

  "I want you, Ethan," she said, running her hands up his back. "I love you."

  He leaned back down and sucked on her neck. She held him tightly to her. He moved both of his hands to her legs and pulled her chemise up almost to her waist. He kissed her so strongly and his tongue prodded her mouth so deeply he almost gagged her, but she did not dare protest for fear he would stop. Her breath quickened. He did not want to go too quickly. This was the first time for both of them. He wanted to make sure it was perfect.

  She was about to tell him to take her when a terrible feeling flooded over her. It was as if someone inside her head told her to run. She froze, trying to listen to the voice.

  Ethan felt her tense up. He stopped because he was afraid he had hurt her or that she had changed her mind. "Victoria?" he began.

  "Shhhhh!" she said, holding up a hand to silence him. Her harsh tone shocked him. She did not mean to sound cruel, but something was certainly wrong. He saw a disturbed look on her face. All of her senses seemed to come alive – she could see and hear everything around her. Hushed tones, the light clang of weapons, the smell of cold air wafting in through an open door.

  "Ethan!" she said, letting go of him and sitting straight up. "Someone is in the house!" She had a feeling it was more than someone simply looking for them – they were in danger.

  "What?" he asked, as he got up, closed his pants, and moved toward the door. She stood on the far side of the bed, pulled down her undergarment, and looked around for something she might be able to use to defend herself, but there was no time. As Ethan reached for the door, an unimaginable sense of danger overwhelmed her.

  "No!" she screamed.

  He stopped, but it was too late. Someone kicked in the door, and several of the village men entered the room followed by Father James.

  6

  What's going on?" Ethan demanded, moving to Victoria and placing his protective body in front of her. She placed her hands on one of his muscular arms and looked at the men.

  "For God's sake, Ethan! Put your clothes back on," Father James said. "It looks like I arrived just in time. Come with me, Ethan. Get away from that wench."

  "How dare you!" Ethan said. "Now you have certainly gone too far! What are these men doing here? Get out of my house!"

  "Now, Ethan, this is for your own good. Come away from her, come with me, and everything will be all right." The priest motioned for Ethan to stand by him.

  "No, this is my house and you need to leave." Ethan stood firmly between the door and his love.

  The priest sighed. "Oh, Ethan. I was hoping it would not be this way."

  All six of the men walked toward the couple and Ethan and Victoria were backed into a wall. Ethan balled up his fists, preparing to fight them off, even though he did not want to fight the men he considered his friends. He would not let them hurt Victoria, but he could not handle all of them. He pushed one of the men back and punched another. Victoria shrieked. One of the men grabbed Ethan's arm, twisted it around behind his back, and slammed him into the wall. When Victoria jumped to get out of the way, two of the men grabbed her arms and pulled her toward the door. She tried to wriggle free and kick them, but it was to no avail.

  "No!" Ethan yelled. "Stop this! Victoria!" He managed to get free of the man who had his arm, but as he ran to her one of the other men grabbed him by the shoulder and punched him so hard in the stomach he crumpled to the floor.

  "Ethan!" Victoria screamed. "Please, please st
op this," she pleaded to Father James as she was dragged toward the door. "Please don't hurt him. I know I am the one you want." Tears fell as she saw Ethan try to get up but get kicked by one of the goons.

  The priest calmly walked up to her. "Why do I want you, Victoria?" he asked her in a low voice. His question puzzled and frightened her.

  "I don't know why, Father, except that you want me to keep away from Ethan." She looked at her lover again as the men pulled him to his feet and held him firmly by both arms. She looked back at the priest. "But, I know that I would never want harm to come to Ethan because of me. Please let him go."

  The priest clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Confession is the way to salvation, Victoria. You must confess your unrighteous soul if you want forgiveness."

  She was confused. He wanted her to confess something specific, but she did not know what.

  "Very well," she said. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession. I have committed gross immorality."

  "That is quite apparent," Father James said, looking at Ethan. "That is not it. Keep going."

  She stammered for a moment, trying to think of what he wanted her to say. "I have incited violence by provoking a fight with one of my…servants."

  The priest sighed with more anger in his voice. "Try again," he said.

  "Enough of this!" Ethan said.

  "Silence!" Father James roared at him.

  Ethan obeyed; he had never seen such anger in the eyes of the man who usually looked at him with fatherly affection.

  "Try again!" Father James said to Victoria.

  "I have dishonored my father by lying and fighting and committing immorality," she rattled off quickly, trying to find the right words that would give the priest what he wanted.

  "No! No! No! Try again!" Father James screamed in her face.

  "I don't know what you want!" she bawled back.

  "Stop it!" Ethan yelled

  "Quiet!" Father James said as one of the men punched Ethan again.

  "Stop it! Please!" Victoria cried.

  "It will stop when you tell me what I want to know," Father James replied.

  "But I don't know what that is," she groaned, exhausted and afraid. "Just tell me what you want me to say," she pleaded.

  The priest calmed down and got very close to her tear-stained face. "You are evil, Victoria Vladimir," he said, looking deep into her eyes. He said it with such a clear, low voice and with such conviction she almost agreed with him.

  She looked into his eyes and nodded. "I am a sinner, Father. Is that what makes me evil?" she softly asked.

  The priest smiled at her and almost chuckled. He wasn't sure if she was trying to protect herself or was truly that stupid. "No, Victoria," he said. "Your father is a servant of the devil." He must have seen the confusion cross her brow because his face reddened with anger. "Don't lie to me! You are a child of Satan and I will not allow you to curse this village! It is because of your cursed soul that demons, wolves, and those who thrive on the blood of the living torment the innocent God-fearing people of this village."

  "You're insane," she whispered.

  "If you will not confess, then I am left with no choice." Father James walked out of the room and the men dragged Victoria and Ethan behind him.

  As the group exited the house, the walkway and road filled with people. Gregory whinnied from somewhere in the crowd, but Victoria could not see him. It was almost dusk. The cold air rushed over Victoria. She gasped as her naked feet stepped onto the wet snow. Her long, dark hair covered her shoulders and her amulet dangled from her neck. She could tolerate the frigid air, but the frozen demeanor of the crowd worried her. The priest walked to the edge of the path and addressed the people.

  "My children," he began, "we have suffered a terrible loss. We are under attack by powers far beyond what we can comprehend. God works in mysterious ways, but the devil walks about us like a roaring lion seeking to devour us. In our case, he walks about like a ravenous wolf. For centuries, he has been kept beyond our borders. When I came to this parish so many years ago, I thought that surely this place was blessed by God, protected by Him, as a light in the darkness. We have remained in His love and favor and He has blessed us.

  "The attack on our humble village on Sunday, the holiest of days, shows how we have lost His favor, how we have grieved His Spirit. He has no longer deemed us worthy of His divine protection. Why is this? What have we done? I will tell you. We have allowed into our midst, and protected, one of the devil's own servants. This child," he said, motioning toward Victoria, "is certainly beautiful. Some may think her pale skin represents purity. But 'the devil changes himself into an angel of light so as to deceive some.' Even my own dear Ethan, a man meant to serve Almighty God, a boy who has been as a blood-born-child to me, was deceived. This offspring of a demon must be cleared out from before us. The question remains, will we do what is necessary?"

  The crowd began to whisper. Victoria looked around, hoping to see a face of reason or sympathy. As she looked, the faces turned hard and cruel.

  "What must we do?" one man asked.

  "Tell us, Father!" a woman called out.

  "Hurry, before the wolves return!" someone else said.

  "Calm, my children," Father James said. He made his way through the crowd. The goons with Victoria and Ethan followed. The crowd parted wide to let the evil one pass. No one dared get close enough to touch her.

  "Leave us, witch!" someone yelled. Then like a chorus on cue, the crowd erupted in agreements and jeers. Victoria shrank back as people shook their fists and screamed abuses at her. She was frightened and tried once again, futilely, to pull away from her captors and escape. There were maybe a hundred people present, but it seemed like thousands forming an endless sea of hate about her. Where was the priest leading her? She only wished her father was there to save her. But at the same time, she knew her father was quite strong and powerful in his anger. He would most likely kill anyone who hurt her. Whatever they were going to do, she hoped it would be over quickly before her father woke up.

  Father James led the people to the very southern edge of town where the main road and houses abruptly ended. The only building to the left was the town jail, a one-room building with one barred window and a heavy oak and iron door. Directly in front of the path was a small stone platform only a few inches off the ground. In the middle of the platform was a tall wooden stake with iron chains and cuffs dangling from the top. Neither the jail nor the stake had been used for many, many years. Father James ascended the platform and turned back to the crowd.

  "The history of this town tells us what to do," the priest said. "At one time, each full moon meant that the wolves would appear and slaughter animals and people until one day a maiden was tied to this pole as an offering. The wolves took her away and never returned. Today, Victoria Vladimir will be that offering!"

  The crowd erupted with cheers as Victoria was dragged to the pole.

  "No!" she screamed, twisting her arms and pulling away from the men who held her with all her might. She dug her feet into the ice and mud to try to hold herself back, but it was all in vain.

  Ethan felt a new surge of energy and broke free from his captors. Several of the men from the mob rushed after him and jumped on him, pulling him to the ground and lying on top of him so he could only watch as chains were fastened to the girl.

  The chains were cold and rusty. They only chained her wrists, but it was enough to hold the delicate female. The chains were long enough that she could turn and look behind her, but they were not long enough for her to sit down.

  She looked back at Ethan as the pile slowly climbed off of him. The goons each took an arm or leg and dragged him to the old jail. They flung him inside and shut the door, securing it with a large key. He jumped up and shook the door, but it did not even rattle. The crowd dispersed; no one wanted to be present if the wolves arrived.

  Ethan ran to the window of the cell and called for the p
riest. "How can you do this?" he asked.

  "It is for the best, Ethan," Father James replied.

  "Nonsense. Let her go, she is innocent. Even if her father is evil, it is not her sin."

  "Sin is inherited, my son."

  "At least you have no sons," Ethan said. "I would hate for them to inherit your sin of murder."

  The priest grimaced at Ethan's words. He felt a sharp pain in his heart to hear Ethan say such a thing.

  "It is not murder when it is for God, Ethan," he rationalized.

  "It is not a full moon tonight," Ethan said. "What if the wolves do not show up? If the sun rises, it will burn her to death. You know about her skin condition."

  "It will prepare her for her eternity," he said.

  "You cold-hearted bas–"

  "Such language, Ethan," Father James interrupted. "This is for the good of many people; she is only one person. I would think that a man of God such as yourself would want to see the evil one vanquished and the innocent spared."

  "There is one evil one I would like to see vanquished right now," he said, staring intently at the priest. Long past seemed the days when he loved Father James like a true parent. Ethan squeezed the cold, iron bars and wished his hands were around the old man's neck instead.

  "I can see that there is no reasoning with you. I will come and get you in the morning." Father James began to walk away, back toward town.

  "Father," a gentle voice called. He looked at Victoria. She was on her knees with her back against the pole. She was facing the trees with her arms extended over her head by the short chains. "Are you going to read me my Last Rites, Father?" she softly asked.

  "I am sorry, Victoria," he said. "But you have no rights." He lowered his head and walked back to the sanctuary of his church.

  Sara was the only person left. She held two blankets. "'Tis a cold night, Father," she said.

  "True," he said, taking one of the blankets away from her. "But it will not be a long night for one."