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

by Gayla Twist

  “Understood,” I said with a nod.

  “Now you look extra handsome,” Mother said in a brighter voice, stepping back to admire her handy work. “I can only imagine how well you’ll look once you’ve been turned. There won’t be a girl in the New World who can resist your charms.”

  I always felt awkward when anyone made a joke about me chasing after girls. I was old enough to find the opposite sex very appealing, but I wasn’t exactly “girl crazy”. Or at least that was how my cousin Dorian was frequently described. What I truly wanted — and wasn’t willing to ever admit aloud — was someone to love and cherish with every fiber of my heart. And to know in my soul that the girl felt the same way about me.

  But, given the circumstances of my family, I doubted I would ever have the opportunity to fall in love. Unless I could find a way to escape my grandfather’s clutches and elude the family curse. I was only seventeen, so at least I still had a few years to try.

  As we planned our transatlantic voyage, Mother was adamant that Mrs. Denkler book everyone separate cabins, using different names for each member of the family. Grandfather was reluctant. “That would be like saying we’re ashamed to be Vanderlinds,” he insisted. I assumed that Grandfather was only being stubborn because using separate cabins was someone else’s idea.

  “But just think, Father,” our mother implored him. “If one of us was to be accidentally discovered, the whole family could be wiped out.” Shaking her head and frowning, she added, “No. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that we must take separate cabins. I wouldn’t even be opposed to separate ships.”

  But on this point, Grandfather was firm. He could see the sense in the family having separate cabins and traveling under assumed names — travel documents were easy enough to have forged — but he would not hear of separate ships. Eventually Mother had to concede. I said nothing to anyone, but I had the strong suspicion that all our mother really wanted was the separate cabins. She brought up the separate ships so that her father would have something to rail against and feel satisfied.

  It was finally settled that Emily and I, being the only two family members who still remained mortal, would travel together under the Vanderlind name. The rest of the family would travel under different assumed names. We would not associate with each other except by the most casual of meetings. My uncle and cousin would follow later, once all the business of the Vanderlind estate was settled. Arranging for the boat was actually the easiest things to organize when compared to the numerous tasks necessary for our move to America.

  It was all well and good for my grandfather to announce that we were leaving for America, but orchestrating the move was a monumental task. First we Vandlerinds had to decide on the necessities we needed for the next several months. Our essentials were packed and transported to a large estate that Grandfather had rented. Then the servants had to pack their own possessions and join us. After that the entire contents of the castle was packed and stored in a warehouse. That made room for several architects, carpenters and electricians to come in and take apart the rooms that had been modernized with wood floors, also removing the doors, woodwork and light fixtures. After that the stone masons came in, numbering every single stone that comprised the castle so it could be disassembled. The top stones of the castle were sent to a warehouse while the bottom stones of the structure were loaded onto numerous freight trains. They crossed several countries before being loaded onto a massive cargo ship that headed out across the Adriatic and on its way to America.

  It was unsettling to see the hole where the castle had sat for the last couple of centuries, like viewing the gap left after a tooth has been ripped from the mouth of a giant. But there was hardly time to reflect upon our departure due to an absurd number of bon voyage parties that were thrown in our honor. There were parties in the country with horseback riding and polo. There were parties in the city on rooftops that could only be accessed by the air. All mortals had to be carried up by the undead. There was even an elaborate banquet in the catacombs under Buda Castle followed by dancing. Each of our undead hosts did his or her best to outshine the previous party. I began to feel that the parties had started to spiral out of control in terms of ostentation. The entire experience of having our friends wish us farewell was rather exhausting. Especially for a mortal like me, because the parties usually ran until just before dawn. As one of the guests of honor, it would have been considered the height of bad manners for me not to stay until the bitter end.

  The months of constant bacchanal probably explained why, when an outbreak of scarlet fever ravaged through the streets of Budapest, I was quick to be overpowered by the malady.

  Chapter 5

  Colette

  It turned out that Lev Wilson was available Friday night and the double date was arranged. Lilly was behind the moon. My feelings were more reserved. I just couldn’t imagine what I would have to talk about with a young man of twenty who worked doing… I couldn’t even remember what he did for a living. That’s how little I was interested in the date.

  “You don’t actually have to say that much,” Lilly told me as we were getting ready and I expressed my concerns. “All you really have to do is smile, be pleasant and listen when he talks. You can do that much, can’t you?”

  “I’m sure I can,” I assured her, but the very idea of just smiling and nodding at a young man made me dread the date even more. I knew there were plenty of girls at school who would laugh their heads off whenever a boy said anything even remotely funny, but I couldn’t bring myself to be so mindless. Why should I pretend a boy is interesting or charming or intelligent when he’s not? It seemed to me that just gave the male half of the species a false sense of superiority.

  Of course this wasn’t something I could say to most girls or they would stare at me like I’d lost my mind. “Questioning a boy’s intelligence is no way to land a husband,” a friend’s older sister once told me when a few of us had been invited to their house for a sleep-over and I had brought up my thoughts on the subject.

  The only person I could really share my feelings about wanting more out of life than to be a wife and mother was my friend Lois. She was top in our class. She even had her father petition the school so that she could enroll in some of the advanced science and early engineering classes that girls were usually discouraged from taking. She’d already been accepted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and they barely accepted any women. We’d talked about me moving with her to Cambridge and getting an apartment together when she started college. I was sure I could probably find work as a secretary somewhere. My typing skills were quite good. But Lois was also madly in love with a fellow student, Laurence, who was nearly as smart as her. I had a feeling they would get married after graduation and start their collegiate careers as husband and wife.

  Lilly spent almost as much time taming my hair for our double date than she did fixing her own. Most women tried to get a wave into their hair while I was constantly battling my waves for fear they would upset a ship or two.

  “You’re just so very pretty,” Lilly said, once she was finished styling my hair and was gazing over my shoulder at our reflections in our dressing table mirror. “I think I’m half afraid to introduce you to Walter. He might like you best.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her, knowing that she was teasing. “I’m sure your beau won’t even notice me.”

  Lilly broke into a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

  I decided to wear my favorite green dress with the little white flowers on it. The cotton fabric was too light for the chilly evenings we were still experiencing, but I’d outgrown my heavier plum-colored dress and didn’t have much else to wear. Lilly was dressed quite smartly and I felt I should at least try to match her appearance. It would look odd if she was in a dress and I was just wearing a wool skirt and sweater.

  At the last minute, Lilly misplaced one of her favorite gloves and you would have thought she’s lost a diamond ring, the wa
y she savaged our room looking for it. I finally discovered that it was still in the pocket of her coat. She’d overlooked it in her haste.

  Walter and Lev arrived promptly at six thirty, their skin well scrubbed and their hair filled with so much oil that I knew mother was afraid to ask them to sit down for fear they’d leave two matching stains on back of the couch. Many women tatted doilies for their couches just to protect them from such a menace.

  My sister was telling the truth when she said Lev was handsome. He had a strong chin and a defined brow. He looked just like a fictional football hero, which was what he had actually been only a few years earlier. I had no interest in sports, but I could see he was a very muscular young man and I thought I remembered seeing him around town, usually followed by a swarm of giggling girls. In a way, that made me feel better. If Lev had the attention of a lot of females, then there was no fear of him becoming interested in me as a potential sweetheart. I was sure he was probably perfectly nice, but a sporty-type of beau didn’t interest me in the least.

  I did notice that a few of the knuckles on Lev’s hands had plasters on them. He kept his hands clasped discretely behind his back most of the time. I scanned my memory again for what kind of work he did, but came up with nothing. Whatever it was, a few abrasions would probably teach him to remember his work gloves.

  March had come in like a lion and stayed that way. I could tell Lilly was reluctant to bundle up and run the risk of wrinkling her immaculately ironed dress, but she did it without voicing a complaint under the watchful eye of our mother. I layered a sweater over my green dress before adding my coat. I saw no reason to come down with a cold just because my sister had a crush.

  Finally we were out the door and heading toward town. The Gibson house wasn’t exactly in the country, but we were definitely on the outskirts of town so we had a bit of a walk ahead of us. That didn’t matter; Lilly and I were used to the exercise.

  Lilly and Walter took the lead, walking side-by-side and rather close together. Lev kept his pace even with mine and began talking, so I did my part to try to listen. His conversation seemed to focus mostly on football, which made listening more of a challenge. I had no idea why anyone would be so interested in a bunch of grown men running up and down a field chasing after a ball. It’s seemed oddly childish to me, as if Lev still enjoyed playing with blocks or flying paper airplanes. But he didn’t ask me any questions, so it was easy enough to pretend to be interested. All I had to do was nod every few sentences and to smile whenever he paused to look in my direction. But I did find it remarkably rude that Lev had not taken the trouble to ask me one question about myself. I knew I was just a girl in high school, so chances were good I didn’t have too much to say that a man of twenty would find interesting, but good manners seemed to dictate that he at least try to ask me about myself.

  Seated at the counter at Top’s, everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone but me, of course. Lilly and Walter were laughing and chatting and generally making themselves cozy. Lev stopped yammering at one point and took a long pull on his soda. I could easily imagine that his throat was dry. I felt it was probably my turn to say something, but I really hadn’t been paying enough attention to keep our current thread of conversation going. So I decided I might as well bring up something I found interesting for a change.

  “Who are some of your favorite authors?” I was bold enough to inquire.

  “Authors?” Lev all but sputtered on his drink.

  “Yes,” I said, not sure why my question was being treated as so shocking; I hadn’t ask him the brand of briefs he preferred. “Who do you like to read?”

  “I don’t,” he told me, wrinkling his nose in disgust, as if I’d just asked him what dress he liked to wear. “I read the paper and maybe an owner’s manual now and then, but I never read for pleasure.” He pulled another face. “Why would I?”

  That was it. I wanted to go home. Lev may have been handsome and well-built, but reading was one of my favorite things in the whole world and I could never be interested in a boy who not only did not read, but ridiculed me for taking enjoyment in it. I immediately gave up all attempts at trying to pay attention to the words coming out of Lev’s mouth and started covertly watching the clock behind the counter. We had to be home by nine, so that meant leaving Top’s by eight-forty at the latest. The end of my first official date with a boy couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter 6

  Jessie

  “Stick out your tongue, young man,” the doctor instructed and I did as I was told. “Yes, it’s as I expected,” the doctor said after taking several moments to examine my mouth and throat. “It’s definitely scarlet fever. Quite a bad case, I’m afraid.”

  “How soon will he be able to travel?” my grandfather asked.

  After months of packing, shipping and attending farewell parties, we were to leave Budapest in five days and I didn’t even feel like I could get out of bed. My head ached fiercely and my throat was so sore I could barely even swallow a little broth. There was a red rash covering most of my body. It itched something fierce, but I was usually too tired to scratch.

  The doctor gave Grandfather an astonished look. “I’m not sure you understand the current health of this young man,” he said in a low, yet serious voice. “He will not be able to do anything but rest for at least a month.” Then, glancing at my mother, he added, “I do not wish to alarm you, but there is a chance that he might not recover if he isn’t treated with great care.”

  “What are you on about?” Grandfather thundered. “Of course he’ll recover. Don’t be absurd. I’m just trying to decide if we can still set sail for America at the end of the week.”

  I was sure there was more to the conversation, but I was too tired to listen. I felt both clammy and chilled. My throat was on fire, yet I couldn’t manage to swallow much water whenever it was brought to my lips, even though I was parched.

  I must have slipped into the throws of the fever for some time because the next thing I remember I could hear Mother and Grandfather talking as they stood to one side of my bed. I held very still and just listened, keeping my eyes closed. I knew if I gave any indication I was awake, my mother would turn all of her attentions to me and I wanted to hear what they had to say.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t just set sail with Daniel,” my mother was saying. I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was trying to keep her emotions under control. “When Jessie regains his strength, the three of us will join you.”

  “I suppose you intend to keep Emily here with you?” Grandfather snarled.

  “Of course,” Mother said, as if any other option was simply absurd. “She’s still a little girl. She needs to be with her mother. I’m not sending her off with the likes of you and Daniel. Young girls need kindness, not to be toyed with like a cat toys with a mouse.”

  “I would not toy with my grandchild,” Grandfather exclaimed, his voice starting to sound like thunder.

  “I didn’t mean you,” Mother informed him. “Now I love all of my children equally,” she said, “but I think I also understand the nature of each of my children. I’m afraid that Daniel would not be able to resist tormenting a mortal child, even if she is his own sister.”

  This silenced Grandfather for a moment. He knew Mother was right. But he also probably suspected she had ulterior motives. My mother did not want her children to be members of the undead.

  “I don’t see why we don’t just turn him now and save ourselves the trouble,” Grandfather said, his voice conveying that my illness was causing him to feel put upon.

  “No!” Mother said, rather sharply. “He’s only seventeen. He’s too young to be turned.”

  “He’s not that young,” Grandfather insisted. “He’s almost a man.”

  “Being almost a man and being a man are two very different things,” Mother insisted. “You wouldn’t want to leave him stuck on the edge of manhood for eternity.”

  “I suppose not,” Grandfather
muttered, pulling on his bottom lip.

  My fever must have started to rise again because after that I didn’t remember much else beyond the doctor’s concerned face hovering over my bed. He looked very grave and I remember thinking that he was about to tell Mother I was going to die. I should have been so lucky.

  Later that night, I remember hearing a noise and opened my eyes to see my grandfather looming over my bed. “What is it, Grandfather?” I asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to make too much noise, my head ached so badly.

  “The doctor has his doubts that you will survive,” Grandfather said, his voice cold and emotionless. “And we’ve already booked our tickets for America.”

  My eyelids felt heavy, but I tried to peer through the dark. Was Grandfather actually angry that my illness was ruining his plans? “I’m sorry,” I said. It didn’t really make sense to me to apologize, but I had no idea what he wanted from me and I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “I will not have your weakness prevent this move,” he informed me. “Your mother has offered to stay behind with Emily to nurse you, but we both know that means I would never see any of you again.”

  I said nothing. I was too weak to put up a fight. It was clear that he had made up his mind and nothing I could do would stop him. “So I am to be seventeen forever?”

  Grandfather bent over me, pushing my head to one side. “You’re going to be a Vanderlind forever.”

  Then I felt a hot sting on my neck like two hornets had synchronized their attack. Grandfather had his mouth pressed against my flesh and I knew he was feeding from me, draining me of all my blood at a rapid rate. I wanted to fight him, but the fever had left me as weak as a kitten. I could barely raise my hands in protest. And when I did try to defend myself, he immediately pinned me to the bed.

  As I lay there, I could feel the blood draining from my body. First my feet went numb. It was like standing outside too long in the snow. Then I could no longer feel my hands. Shortly after that I could feel my heart struggling to beat in my chest. I must have cried out as I struggled to cling to my last moments of life because suddenly my mother burst through the door.