by Gayla Twist
“What are you doing here?” the maid screeched. “Get out! Get out!”
I made the decision that I would not fight them. I would allow them to kill me without a struggle. There would be no blood on my hands as I went to meet the world’s maker.
“Grab a stake or anything you have made out of wood,” one of the young men shouted at me. I recognized him immediately as the ruddy faced youth who had been impertinent to my sister. “There’s a vampire aboard the ship,” he said. “He’s lured one of the crew to his cabin and is feeding off the poor soul right now.”
I just stood there, frozen to the spot, trying to take it all in. “A vampire?” I finally managed to ask.
“Yes!” the man shouted. “They exist. And there’s one aboard this ship. Arm yourself and hurry up. I doubt the creature will go down without a fight.”
“I…” I stammered. “I’m with you.”
“Good,” the young man told me. “We need every able bodied man we can find. And we don’t have a minute to lose.” Then, turning to the rest of the mob, he shouted, “Let’s go!”
The crowd turned as a unit and surged away from the door. I stumbled after them, absentmindedly grabbing a corkscrew on my way out the door. It wasn’t made out of wood. I’m not even sure why I grabbed it beyond the fact that the ruddy faced young man had instructed me to grab a weapon.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked. The noise from the mob had woken her and she looked sleep-tousled, her eyes wide with fright.
“Everything is fine,” I assured her, even though it was obviously a lie. One of our family had been discovered and was about to face a horrible death. But there was no reason to drag poor Emily into it. I didn’t want her to see one of us getting staked. Especially if the hapless individual happened to be our mother. “Just stay in your cabin,” I told her. “Lock the door.” As I hurried behind the mob, I called over my shoulder. “And keep the maid with you!” There was no reason for any young woman to get caught up in a bloodthirsty crowd, even a female of questionable virtue.
“I’ll be fine. You can’t keep me locked in here,” the maid insisted, all remnants of her French accent giving way to something that sounded more like she hailed from Yorkshire.
“Do as I say!” I shouted as I ran down the hall, on the heels of the angry mob.
Which one of my family had been discovered? And would there be any way for me to save them without putting everyone’s life in danger? As we charged passed door after door of the first class cabins, I saw the face of my brother Daniel peeking out. At least I knew he wasn’t going to be the one to face the business end of a stake. That narrowed things down to either my grandfather or my mother; fifty-fifty odds for both of them. I knew I would fight to death for my mother. I couldn’t say what I would do for her father, especially if my suspicions were true about him hiring someone to dispose of my blood. My grandfather was a difficult man to love. In fact, if I was being honest, I hated him. But he was my maker and that tied me to him for eternity.
The angry mob stopped outside a state room door. I had no idea if the room belonged to my mother. They banged on the door, but there was no response. Individuals yelled for a ship’s steward to open the door, but the mob was too impatient to wait. A couple of brawny young men began putting their shoulders to the door. It was well made and held out against the assault for several moments, before eventually bursting open.
I had expected the crowd to surge forward, but instead they pulled back. An audible gasp was heard from most of the men who could see through the door. Everyone was so transfixed, either looking through the door or trying to look through the door, that I took a little risk and levitated several inches into the air to see over the crowd. I covered for this trick by pretending I was boosting myself up on the handle of the door across the way, but it would have been an almost impossible test of strength for a mortal.
From my elevated position, I was able to see over the heads of the crowd. There was my grandfather, in the corner of the room, hunkered down like a rabid dog that had been cornered by the local sheriff. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, his fangs on full display. And there, slumped on the floor, was the half naked body of a boy. I recognized him immediately. It was Christian Franzen, the beautiful cabin boy who had spoken with Mother and me on the deck of the ship the previous evening. Blood was oozing from his neck and he looked very pale. He was making a faint mewing sound, like a hungry kitten. I could tell from the boy’s deathly white complexion and the deep wounds on his neck that Grandfather had intended to drain him dry. The mob had arrived just in time.
“You animal,” someone shouted from the crowd.
Grandfather jerked his head up. His eyes looked heavy, like those of a drunkard deep in his cups. “You peons,” he snarled, doing his best to pull himself up to his full height. “There’s nothing you can do to me. You cannot touch me.”
“Get him!” several people shouted at once and the crowd surged forward.
If it had been just a few men, Grandfather could have fought them, and probably won, even in his inebriated state. But the mob was too much for him. They began beating him with their makeshift stakes, the splinters from the broken table and chair legs piercing his flesh. He began to shriek in agony, but that only fueled the crowd.
Quickly, I shoved my way through the masses to the limp body of Christian Franzen. People were so outraged by the assault on him, that they were willing to trample him in order to punish his molester.
I pulled the cabin boy to the far corner of the room. There was the heavy scent of gin on his breath, which explained why Grandfather was acting so sluggish. The boy’s head lolled, his eyes were glassy, but he was able to focus on me for a brief moment. “Vampire,” he whispered and then he lost consciousness.
The mob had seized Grandfather and was dragging him out of the cabin, all the while beating him and making him howl. I needed to save him. But Mr. Franzen was about to expire in my arms.
Discretely, I punctured my fingertip with one of my fang. Once there was a bit of blood dripping from it, I stuck my finger in the cabin boy’s mouth. It only took a few moments for his eyelids to start fluttering. A few seconds after that and his eyes began to focus. He looked at me and let out a shriek, which I quickly stifled, clamping a hand over his mouth.
“You’re safe,” I told him as he struggled against me, his body still weak from blood loss. “There is no reason to fear.”
I forced a few more drops of blood into his mouth and his pallor began to improve. “You were attacked,” I told him. “But your assailant has been captured so there’s nothing more he can do to harm you.” The crowd had cleared the room by that point and I knew I had to follow them as quickly as possible to try to save my grandfather. “You must rest here,” I told him, gently lowering him to the rug. “Be still. No more harm will come to you.” I stood up. “I’ll send the ship’s physician just as soon as I can.”
The cabin boy made an attempt to say something. He reached a trembling hand toward me and tried to force words to come out of his mouth. But I had already wasted too much time. I felt I couldn’t spare another moment. I pulled away from him. “Just stay there,” I shouted over my shoulder as I rushed out the door.
The corridor was empty, but I followed the sound of angry voices to the deck of the ship. There was the mob, pummeling and kicking at a prostrate figure on the deck, which I knew to be the heartless creature who was my grandfather. What was I to do for him? Was there anything I could say that would stop the crazed mob from tearing him to pieces? I had to try something. He was my maker.
“Wait!” I shouted, rushing forward and thrusting myself between the mob and my grandfather. “Stop!” I held my hands up to keep them back.
“Why should we?” one of the men asked, his eye appearing crazed with bloodlust.
“He’s a human,” I pointed out. “Doesn’t he at least deserve a trial?”
“He’s not a human,” the man told me. “He’s a creature o
f the night. He gave up his right to a trial when he sold his soul to the devil.”
Another man began to view me with suspicion. “Why are you so eager to defend him?” he asked, poking me on the chest with a brawny finger. “What’s this creature to you?”
“Nothing,” I insisted. “I’m just studying the law.”
“The law is only for humans,” a woman’s voice called from the back of the throng. “I wouldn’t give that creature the same consideration I’d give a dog.” Most people in the crowd seemed to heartily agree with her.
I felt a hand close tightly around my ankle. Looking down, I made eye contact with my grandfather. “Save me,” he said in words so soft that no mortal ears could have heard them. “I am your maker. You owe me your immortal soul. You must save me.”
“How?” I asked, mostly with my eyes.
“I am your maker,” he whispered again. “You must save me, even if it means sacrificing yourself.”
I knew at that moment that I truly hated my grandfather. I hated him to the very core of my being. But he was also my maker. I had to obey him. I felt obliged to try to preserve his life.
Turning back to the crowd, I looked at all their mortal faces. I was just a fledgling vampire, but I knew that I had the ability to compel mortals to do my bidding. I didn’t have much experience using my influence over anyone and it seemed an insurmountable challenge to sway a rabid mob. But I felt Grandfather’s grip around my ankle. I could hear him whispering, “Save me. You must save me.” I had no choice. I had to either compel the crowd to leave him alone or fight them.
“Please, listen to me,” I said, raising my hands in the air again to gather their attention.
“No,” a woman shouted from the crowd. “Shove the boy out of the way and dispatch the beast.”
And then the mob closed in, poking at me with their makeshift stakes to get me out of the way. Each scratch of the wood was like someone had set my skin on fire. I wanted to shriek in pain, but I knew if anyone took notice of the agony a few slivers were causing me, then I would be in the same position as my grandfather.
“Come here, boy,” I heard a woman’s gruff voice command me. I was about to protest, but the lady got a firm hold of me and began dragging me away from Grandfather. “There’s no need for you to be caught up in this nonsense.” The woman was elderly and her voice was ragged, but she had a grip on me as strong as a vice. In a softer voice, she added, “We’re almost clear of him.”
I did a double take and realized that the elderly woman was my mother in disguise. “What are you doing?” I couldn’t help but exclaim.
“Saving what’s left of my family,” she said in a low voice.
“But Grandfather…” I stammered.
“You’re death isn’t going to save him,” she said.
I don’t know where Grandfather got the strength, but he’d climbed to his feet and started fighting the crowd. It seemed like some of the frenzy had left the mob. Instead of being swept up with outrage and moving with one mind and one will, they were all standing back, waiting for someone else to take the lead.
If he’d played things right, maybe Grandfather could have gained control of the mob. Or at least temporarily escaped the crowd and hidden somewhere on the ship while regaining his strength. Then he could have waited until we were closer to New York and escaped by air, flying the rest of the way. But Grandfather was angry and used to being obeyed by mortals. He grabbed one of the men that was taunting him, lifted him into the air, and then flung him over the side of the ship.
“Who wants to die next?” Grandfather shouted, glaring at the crowd.
The people moved in a giant mass, slashing and stabbing at Grandfather with their stakes. They had him pinned against the rail. “We have to do something,” I said, pulling against my mother’s tight embrace.
“No,” Mother said, shoving me back. “He’ll be gone in another moment. I think we’ve already done enough. We’re better off saving that poor soul who went over the side.” Then she released me and ran for a life preserver.
I knew she was right, but I still felt compelled by my maker. Grandfather had commanded me to save him. I had to do something to save the evil fiend. I had to try. Almost against my will, I found myself taking a few steps toward the crowd.
“Jessie!” Mother shouted, jolting my out of my trance. “Help me with the man overboard.”
“Yes,” I said to her. “Yes, you’re right.” I hurried to the railing, took the life preserver from her and flung it to the man bobbing up and down in the waves. I could see him just as easily as if it had been high noon. The preserver had a rope attached to it. Only a few moments later and we were hauling the man back onto the deck of the ship.
Grandfather was losing his battle. The best thing he could have done was take flight, but he was in such a weakened condition from all the stake wounds, that was no longer a possibility. Still, he wouldn’t give up the battle. He lunged for another man, but received a stake to the hand for his efforts. Jerking back in pain, he found himself pinned against the railing. Another moment of struggle and he was pushed over the side.
My impulse was to catch him as he fell. I didn’t have much experience flying, but I knew the basics.
Mother held me back, gripping my shirt with both her hands. “Let him go, Jessie,” she told me.
“But…” I struggled against her grasp.
“Jessie,” she said. “Look at me.” After I wrench my gaze away from where Grandfather had plunged in the water, she said, “I didn’t go through all this trouble to arrange your grandfather’s discovery, just to have you put yourself at risk to save him.”
I stared at her, too stunned to think for several seconds. “You?” I couldn’t help but ask. And then I added, “Why?”
Mother released me and then did her best to straighten out the wrinkles in my shirt. “That son-of-a-bitch already killed my sons,” she said. “I wasn’t going to let him get my daughter.”
I let this new information sink into my brain. My mother had set the whole thing up. She’d found the perfect cabin boy and probably even gotten him drunk in the hopes that his blood would intoxicate her father, slowing his reflexes.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to the rest of the family,” Mother said, scanning the people on the deck for any family members who might have come to see what all the noise was about.
“Of course,” I assured her. “But…” My thoughts were all a jumble. Grandfather was Mother’s maker, too. How had she acted against him? It seemed impossible. “How did you do it?” I was finally able to ask. “How could you betray your maker? Even if he was a man like Grandfather?”
“It wasn’t easy,” she told me, running her hands over her clothes to smooth nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. “But there’s one thing most makers don’t seem to understand.”
“What?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She turned to head back to her cabin, but then paused to look at me over her shoulder. “A mother’s love is stronger than any obligation she might feel toward her maker.”
Chapter 17
Colette
“You’re losing weight,” Mama observed, running an appraising eye over my figure.
“Do you think?” I brushed my hands over my hips. I’d never been heavy, but I was rather curvy, which I knew Papa disliked. I’d overheard him talking with Mama once and he’d said flat out that I was too young to have such a womanly figure.
“It must be all that bicycling you’ve been doing. It’s great exercise,” Mama said, turning back to the dishes. “I swear you must have ridden across half the state in the last month.”
“Probably,” I agreed with her, picking up a clean plate and starting to dry it with a towel. What my mother didn’t know was that, even though I had been riding my bicycle a lot lately, it was always to the same place. It felt almost as if I had a magnet inside my belly that was always pulling me toward the castle.
“It looks good on you,”
Mama said as she drained the sink and started to wipe down the counter. “I think it’s healthy. You should keep it up.”
She wouldn’t have thought it was healthy if she’d known about my visit to the castle that afternoon. I’d ridden my bike over there after school. I wanted to speak with the Italian workers before they finished the floors and were sent back to Italy. After the rose garden was finished, the English workers disappeared like they had evaporated into the air. There was only one caretaker left to make sure the roses stayed beautiful. He looked about a million years old and lived in a tiny house that was tucked out of sight of the castle.
The problem was that the Italians were always working inside the castle and I wasn’t bold enough to stroll inside the building just to ask impertinent questions. Still, that afternoon, luck was on my side. As the wheels of my bicycle rolled to a halt just outside the castle, I noticed a young man with an immense crop of shiny black hair leaning against a tree. He was smoking a cigarette and had his eyes closed as he tilted his face toward the sun. The heavy layer of sawdust covering him from head to toe led me to believe that he might be one of the Italian workers.
I was trying to think of a possible reason to strike up a conversation with him, when he said, “I am glad for this day. I have missed the sunshine.”
He’d kept his eyes closed when speaking so I wasn’t quite sure he was addressing me, but there was nobody else around. “It another few months it will be quite warm,” I answered him, still staying astride my bicycle.
“Yes, but by then I will be gone.” He opened his eyes to look at me and I was surprised to realize that they were green when I had been expecting brown.
