“Why would I lie about such a thing?” Emma asked, looking at Anara with incredulity.
“We have been betrayed before,” I murmured.
I briefly told her of our journey; how we had killed Vlad Draculesti and Aurel Skala, our intention to find and kill Elizabeth Bathory through her follower in Paris, Francois. Though I told her of Rosalind’s betrayal, I did not mention my imprisonment with Skala for fear that speaking of it would bring those ghastly memories to the forefront of my mind. I had managed to keep them at bay since stepping off the train in Paris.
“My God,” Emma said, when I fell silent, her eyes wide. “That is why you are here…you have both followed in your mother’s footsteps. This—this is not what she would have wanted for either of you!”
A stab of guilt pierced me at her words; I averted my gaze from her anguished one. Emma spoke the truth. Both of my parents had wanted me to stay out of the war, but it was far too late for that now.
“Answer us,” Anara snarled, her fangs bared, unaffected by Emma's words. Seward still looked wary, but I saw his hand drop to his pocket where his revolver was tucked away. Even Abe got to his feet, his hand straying to the stake that was tucked in his back pocket.
Gabriel and I were the only ones who remained still, studying Emma’s face for any sign of deceit. But her face did not betray fear, alarm, or deception—she just looked heartbroken.
“This is why I hate war… it only leads to distrust,” she said bitterly.
“I am sorry,” I said, but I could once again feel Skala’s fangs on my skin, his cold eyes trained on me as I wept. I couldn’t risk another betrayal. “We need to know you’re telling us the truth.”
“Isabel loved to tell stories…even as a child,” Emma said, after a lengthy pause. “I visited London when you were still a baby…she was already telling you stories. I teased her and said you wouldn’t remember any of them, but she insisted that you would. She said they were more than just stories. They were lessons…lessons that would teach you how to protect yourself should the human world fall to vampires.”
My heart plummeted in my chest. I recalled my mother’s words in my dream—or was it a memory? Lessons, she had said. The stories are lessons. I turned to look at Gabriel. He looked stunned.
“If what you say is true, tell them one of these stories,” Anara demanded.
“Anara,” I said, getting to my feet. “I believe her. We believe her. There is no need to—“
“We believed Rosalind and now Szabina is dead,” Anara bit out harshly, before turning her attention back to Emma. “Tell them one, or I will not hesitate to—“
“The monster in the forest,” Emma snapped. Though she was addressing me and Gabriel, she glared at Anara as she spoke. “That was one of her favorites. It was a story about a monster lurking in the forest, and the little boy and girl who was able to hide from it…until it went away.”
I pressed my hands to my mouth. I remembered that story well; it was one of the last stories she told me before she died. Even though it frightened me, she had told it to me repeatedly, as if she wanted me to commit it to memory. Now I knew why.
“If you still do not believe me—if this is what our world has come to—then kill me where I stand!” Emma shouted.
“Stop this, Anara,” I said firmly, moving to stand in front of Emma. “She’s telling us the truth.”
IT TOOK several moments for the tension in the room to fade. Abe apologized on behalf of the group, while Anara fell silent, though I saw a look of regret flicker across her face. Emma still looked shaken by the impromptu interrogation; it was only mine and Gabriel’s repeated apologies and reassurances that seemed to calm her.
“I recently discovered that our family line has a distant vampire ancestor,” I said, once she had calmed. “Were you aware?”
Emma blanched, and I could have sworn that her skin went even more white. Her gaze briefly strayed to Anara and the others, but she shook her head.
“No,” she replied. “It certainly makes sense, given that there are at least two vampires in the family. You told me you are looking for Bathory,” she continued, abruptly changing the subject. “Through her follower, Francois?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Do you know of him?”
“He is the leader of the Parisian vampires,” Emma said, her mouth twisting with dislike. “All vampires in France know of him. He is behind the more vicious attacks on humans in the city—he loathes humans with a passion. One of his sycophants, Clement, has an infatuation with me…he seems to scent me anytime I’m in the city,” she added, with a shudder of revulsion. “He often invites me to Francois’ masquerade balls, but I always decline. Francois would hate me—I’m half human. Even so, I would never go to one.”
“Masquerade balls?” Abe asked.
“Francois holds elaborate masquerade balls every week at his chateau. He calls them Night Masquerades. The rumor is that he’s celebrating the coming end of the human world. The more humans he and his children kill that week, the more festive the celebration,” she said with disgust.
Hot anger seared me at her words; Abe and the others looked sickened as well. I thought of the empty streets of Paris, and my determination rose once more. We would put an end to Francois’ morbid celebrations.
“Can you arrange for our invitations to his next ball?” I asked.
“You—surely you are not serious,” Emma replied, slowly shaking her head. “Francois is strong, powerful, and absolutely mad. He—“
“We have heard all of these arguments before,” Abe interrupted. “They are irrelevant. We need to get to him—it is our best chance of tracking down Elizabeth Bathory.”
At the mention of Bathory’s name, Emma paled. She studied me and Gabriel for a long moment before she replied.
“If you are determined to go, then I'll not stop you. I’ll have to go into the city to see if I can arrange it.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her. “Truly, Emma.”
“Let me show you your rooms,” she said, avoiding my gaze as she stood.
She led us out of the salon. The interior of the home bore the same signs of fading grandeur as the exterior—the walls were peeling, the floors splintered with age, and it was permeated by a dank and musky smell. It was almost completely dark; Emma had to light a candle once we reached the hall to take us up the unsteady winding staircase to the second floor. She pointed out several sparsely furnished guest rooms where we could temporarily settle.
Our group soon scattered. Seward and Anara left to make certain the surrounding grounds of the home were secure. Abe excused himself to settle our bags in our temporary guest room, though I was certain he wanted to give me and Gabriel some time alone with our newly discovered cousin.
When it was just the three of us, I again apologized for our earlier distrust, but she waved off my apology.
“These are dangerous times,” she said. “Even though I wish they were not. I understand the need to be on guard…especially after all that you and your friends have gone through.”
Emma offered to give us a more detailed tour of the home if we weren’t too tired. We eagerly agreed, wanting to see more of the home where our mother had spent much of her years, even if it was in such a decrepit state.
Emma first led us to an empty room at the far end of the corridor. The room was nondescript, with only a bed and lone dresser. She closed the door behind us. I started to ask her whose room this had once been, but stopped myself when I saw the urgency in her eyes.
“Do you trust everyone in your group?” she whispered.
“We trust them with our lives,” I replied, confused by her query. "Why?"
Her rigid shoulders relaxed, and she nodded.
“That is what I thought, but I wanted to make certain,” she said. “I need to tell you about the Bathory family…and our vampire ancestor. It is imperative that what I’m about to tell you remains within this house.”
15
BLOOD OF M
ONSTERS
I dashed out of the room and down the hall, a sinister excitement flowing through my veins. I hurried into the guest bedroom that Abe and I were to share, pausing by the doorway as I caught my breath.
Abe was seated on the bed, scribbling down notes in his journal by the lone light of a single candle. He looked up, taking in my frantic state with concern.
“What—“ he began.
“I know how to kill her,” I said in a rush, entering the room further. “I know how to kill Elizabeth Bathory.”
The story Emma told me and Gabriel had at first filled me with horror, rendering me silent. And then a strange sort of elation had taken over, one that now had me firmly in its grip.
Now, Abe’s eyes widened as he got to his feet, blinking in astonishment.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I sensed Emma’s presence at the doorway behind me. I turned to glance back at her. She was clearly surprised by my excited reaction, studying me with both curiosity and concern. Gabriel’s reaction had been far more subdued than mine; he’d gone downstairs to inform the others what we’d learned.
“My vampire ancestor was a member of the Bathory family,” I said, turning back to face Abe. I took his hands and sat down with him on the bed, trying to speak calmly. “Generations ago, a human from my family fell in love with a vampire from the Bathory family. They had a child; that child is my distant relation.”
“Godsamme,” Abe whispered. His eyes strayed to Emma, as if seeking to confirm my claim.
“It is true,” Emma confirmed. “Mina’s mother knew…but it was a closely guarded family secret.”
“Many vampires are unable to consume the blood of their own kind—it makes them ill. But there is no vampire—no matter how powerful—who can consume blood from its own family line. It would be lethal,” I continued. “If Elizabeth Bathory drinks from me, my blood will poison her.”
The knowledge of my ancestry invigorated me…I was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. All the mysterious threads I’d picked up over the past few weeks had finally come together. Not long ago, I would have been sickened to learn that traces of vampire blood flowed through my veins; blood from one of the oldest and most powerful vampire families in Europe. Now, there was only acceptance paired with determination. If the blood of monsters flowed through my veins, I could use it to destroy them.
“Does Bathory know this?” Abe asked Emma, getting to his feet. He had paled at my words, his entire body rigid with anxiety.
“I suspect not. Isabel and her family didn’t speak of it to anyone outside the family. Isabel kept both Gabriel and Mina’s true identities a secret altogether. Elizabeth would have hunted them both down and killed them had she known. Like many members of the Old Families, she loathes humans—she would abhor sharing the same family line.”
“Do not tell me you are thinking of using yourself as bait,” Abe breathed, turning back to face me. “Not after what—“
“Of course not,” I interrupted. Emma still didn’t know that I'd been tortured at the hands of Aurel Skala; I suspected she'd try to stop me from continuing the fight.
But I was determined to use this knowledge to kill Bathory. At the thought of killing her, black rage pulsed through me, and I didn’t push it away. My fire had returned; the fire that had been temporarily extinguished by Skala’s torture.
Abe looked assuaged by my response as Gabriel appeared next to Emma in the doorway.
“I’ve told the others. They’re gathered in the salon.”
We entered the salon, where Anara and Seward were looking at me with the same expressions they’d worn when learning that vampire blood flowed through my veins…shock paired with mystification.
“When you entered my mind in that forest in Transylvania…I knew there was something different about you,” Anara said. “It was difficult to penetrate your mind. Even your scent was different. But I never would have imagined that you’re a distant relation of Elizabeth Bathory.”
“Neither would I,” I said. “This is good for us to know. Now we have a definitive way of killing her. If she drinks from me, she dies. I won’t do anything rash,” I assured everyone, at their looks of alarm. “But…we do need her to drink from me. My blood will kill her.”
“We will find another way,” Abe said. “The only way she would drink from you is if you were to lure her to you—and that will not happen.”
“We still need to get to her,” Seward said. “If we can’t even track her down…”
“It is imperative that we attend this masquerade,” Anara added. “Right now, it is our only way of finding her.”
“I will be able to secure your invitations,” Emma said. “But I will not attend that monster’s party. I will not try to stop you—though I think this plan is foolhardy. Francois keeps guards around him at all times.”
“Nor would we expect you to,” I said gently. “We know how dangerous this will be.”
Emma left the salon as we discussed our plan. The next day, Anara would go into the city to meet with Parisian members of the Order, whom Nikolaus had referred her to; we needed them to join us. We would ensnare Francois by one of the members of our group informing him that the Order of the Dragon was present, and requesting a private audience. Once Francois was separated from the party, we would attack him and his guards, putting him in thrall to determine Bathory’s whereabouts before killing him. It was an ambitious and daring plan; one I prayed we could succeed in carrying out.
It was the middle of the night by the time we’d finished our discussion. Abe reached for my hand and led me back to our guest room.
“You do not seem bothered at all,” Abe mused later, searching my eyes as we lay in bed. The moonlight that filtered in through the window illuminated his handsome features. “Weeks ago, you did not believe vampires existed. The very thought of them disgusted you. Yet now that you know you carry a trace of vampire blood in your veins…”
“I was in denial then,” I said, recalling my willful ignorance with shame. “For so long I was in the dark about who I truly was. Now that I know…I accept it. I'll use my knowledge to kill those monsters.”
Abe pulled me close, pressing his lips against my forehead.
“I wanted to kill Skala myself when we found you in that cellar,” he whispered. “To see you like that…so broken. Anara was on him before I could even reach for my stake. I should have been the one to kill him.”
“He is dead now,” I said, forcing the image of Skala out of my mind.
“We should have gotten to you sooner,” Abe continued, regret darkening his expression. “I was in such agony the entire time you were missing.”
He pulled me close, burying his face in my hair. We lay in silence, the only sounds that filtered into the room were ones of nature: trees swaying with the night breeze, crickets chirping, the occasional distant howl of a wolf.
Abe’s breaths soon grew deep and steady, but I was far too restless to sleep. I feared that when I did, nightmares of Skala would once again plague me. I slipped out of Abe’s arms, placing my cloak over my nightdress. Abe remained asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily as he breathed. I watched him for a long moment, leaning down to tenderly kiss his stubbled jaw, before padding out of the room.
Carefully making my way down the dark hall, I wondered how this home had looked when my mother lived here. I tried to imagine her as a child, giggling as she raced down the same hall, reading stories with Emma, playing childhood games. When had she first learned of vampires, of the shadowy legacy of the Ghyslaine family? Had she been blissfully ignorant like me, or had she known all along what she would be doomed to face?
“I assume you cannot sleep?”
I turned, startled. I had made my way down to the salon, lost in my thoughts as I gazed out of one of its cracked windows. Anara entered the room behind me, taking off her cloak. Her face was flushed; she must have just fed.
“I fed on some animals in the forest,” Anara sa
id as she approached. “When I do feed on humans, I do not kill. I did once, when I was an angry young vampire. Radu taught me that it is not necessary to kill when you feed.”
“It is not my business how you feed,” I said, though I was comforted by her admission.
“You may not fear us as you once did, but it may always be there…even now, knowing that you have vampire ancestry.”
“I no longer fear you nor my brother,” I protested. “I know that all vampires are not monsters.”
“I once thought all humans were monsters,” Anara said, after a brief pause. She looked away from me, training her gaze on the untamed weeds outside the window. “Before I became vampire…a group of humans raped and tortured me. They kept me prisoner for weeks. I was a thing to them, something to be toyed with. I begged them for death…anything to make the pain stop.”
I stared at her, horrified by her words. Anara had never shared any of her background with me. I could tell this was difficult for her to share, but she continued.
“Radu found me on the edge of death. He took pity on me…he gave me a choice. Did I want to die or become vampire? I chose to live as a vampire…not because I craved life, but because I desired revenge on those who had tortured me. Radu cared for me, loved me like a daughter of his very own. He healed me,” she said. “That is why I hated humans so. That is why I nearly killed you when I first met you in Budapest. The kukri knife was one of the weapons that was used on me.”
“Anara,” I murmured with sympathy. When I’d first met her, she displayed nothing but animosity and distrust towards us. Now I knew why. “Anara, I am so—“
“I do not tell you this for your sympathy,” she said sharply, still not looking at me, her eyes focused on a fixed point outside the window. “I did find the humans who tortured me. I killed them…slowly. I enjoyed every moment of it. I do not regret it. But…their deaths did not stop the nightmares of their torture. I could still see their faces and hear my screams…my pleas for them to stop.”
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