History of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Castle Series Book 4) (5 page)

“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.

“Father! What are you doing?” she shrieked. Then she raced across the room and wrenched him away from my shuddering form.

“He was going to die anyway,” Grandfather insisted. “I’m just facing the inevitable.”

“But he’s just a boy.” Mother was weeping with rage and grief. “You should at least give him the chance to become a man.”

“It’s too late now,” Grandfather informed her. “I’ve drunk too much. He’s going to die now, either way. The only question you have to answer is whether I bring him back.”

“No!” Mother dropped to her knees, clutching my hand. “Oh, my darling Jessie. I should have known. I should have known he would try to do this to you,” she said between sobs.

I opened my mouth to try to speak. I wanted to tell her to just let me die. My body was already feeling much warmer. I felt like I was floating in a lake on a sunny day. The pain of my illness had been washed away. I was ready to face the afterlife.

Chapter 7

Colette

“I’m sorry, Lilly, but I honestly don’t want to go.”

“What are you talking about?” my sister exclaimed. We were in the backyard the next morning, clearing out the weeds that had survived the winter, and turning over the soil in Mama’s vegetable patch. “Lev said he had a wonderful time. He wants to see you again.”

“I just don’t think we have very much in common,” I told her as I tugged at a dead thistle, its little stingers piercing my worn work gloves in a few spots.

“Men and women never have much in common,” she told me. “You shouldn’t let that bother you.”

“He doesn’t even like to read,” I grunted, still battling the plant. “Not at all.”

“You put too much stock in reading,” Lilly said. “I think you’ll find most men don’t care for it.”

“Papa likes to read,” I pointed out. The thistle finally gave up the fight and I tumbled a little to one side as it released its grip on the soil. “He reads all the time.”

“Yes, but Papa is an educated man,” Lilly pointed out.

“I think I would prefer an educated man,” was my response.

“Yes, but it’s not Lev’s fault he’s not educated. He was going to go to college,” my sister insisted.

I really couldn’t imagine Lev in a collegiate atmosphere. He just didn’t appear that bright. I wondered if this was something I should mention to Lilly.

“Please, Lettie,” Lilly pleaded. “You know Walter and I can’t go out again unless you go with us. And I really, really like him.”

“I’d be happy to meet another one of Walter’s friends,” I told her. “You said he knew a lot of nice boys.”

Lilly let her shoulders slump. “But what about Lev? Don’t you think that would hurt his feelings?”

“Lilly,” I couldn’t help but say, “we went out on one date for a soda. It’s not as if we were going steady or anything. Besides, I doubt Lev is desperate for female attention. I’m sure there are a lot of girls who would be happy to listen to him talk about football.”

Lilly widened her eyes a little, believing she had figured something out. “Is that why you don’t want to see him again? Because he talked too much about football?”

“It’s not the only reason,” I told her.

“Then what is?”

Sighing, I pulled at a few more shriveled weeds. “He never asked me about myself,” I said, feeling a little foolish for no reason. “Not one thing.”

“Oh, is that all?” Lilly said, dusting some soil from her gloved hands.

“You don’t understand,” I told her. “If there had been just a photograph of me there in my place, it would have been the same to Lev. And when he finally stopped speaking for a moment, and I asked him a question, he ridiculed me.” Standing up, I brushed some dried grass from my legs. “I’m sorry,” I told her, picking up my hoe. “I don’t want to prevent you from seeing your beau, but I will not go out on another date with Lev Wilson.”

“But…” Lilly started to protest.

“I don’t see why I have to be miserable, just so you can be happy,” I told her chopping vigorously at the soil with the hoe. “Just explain to Walter that Lev and I didn’t hit it off and have him fix me up with another boy. Or none at all, for all I care. I’ll just bring a book on your next date and be a third wheel.”

“No, that’s alright,” Lilly hastened to say. “I’ll just tell Walter you need someone who is a little more intellectual. He should understand that.”

That afternoon was the first time I rode my bike out to the castle. It hadn’t been my intention. My original destination was the library to hunt for a new book to read, but somehow I found the wheels of my bike rolling toward the shores of the Tiburon River. And the next thing I knew, I was admiring the progress that had been made on reconstructing the castle.

I knew better than to get too close to the work in progress. I didn’t want to be in the way. But even from a distance, I could see the walls of the castle starting to rise. The dungeon must have already been finished and the stones for the ground floor in place. I had somehow thought they would build the exterior walls first and then fill in the middle, but they appeared to be building everything up, layer by layer.

All of the stones from the barges had been off-loaded onto the shore. The boats themselves had disappeared; probably they were headed back down to the Ohio River. There was still a massive pile of rocks on the shore, but I had heard a second round of barges would arrive with more stones once the first pile had been cleared.

It was amazing the amount of progress the stone masons had done in only a few days. But the sheer number of people reconstructing the castle probably made the whole thing go quicker than expected.

There didn’t seem to be very many windows to the castle. None at all, as far as I could tell. I thought about the drawings and photographs of castles I’d seen in books. There never were any windows. That made sense, especially if a castle’s primary purpose was to defend its inhabitants against a siege.

There was no sign of the Vanderlind family. It seemed unlikely that they would arrive before the castle was completely finished. Wealthy people probably hated being inconvenienced even more than us regular folks.

I knew it was foolish, but I couldn’t wait for the Vanderlinds’ arrival. I didn’t think the family would actually socialize with people from Tiburon, but it would be exciting to see a few of them as they drove through town, or maybe catch a glimpse of them as they entered the policemen’s ball, or stopped by to pay a call on the mayor. I imagined it would be like catching a glimpse of royalty.

I had read how the English who owned grand houses would have a day each month when their homes were open to the public. That way regular folks could come in and admire the art and finery. I sincerely hoped that the Vanderlinds would adhere to that sort of tradition, so that I would have a chance to see inside the castle. It was something I wanted very much and I just knew there had to be a way.

That night I dreamt of the Vanderlind Castle. Or at least I had a dream about a castle and decided it was how the castle being built on the other side of town should look. In my dream there was a fine family with a mother and father, an aging dowager, and several children of varying ages. My dark haired boy was the middle child. He was there, playing croquet on the lawn with his brothers and sisters. I wasn’t sure why I was there. Things were vague, as they sometimes are in dreams. But as the dark haired boy was lining up a shot, he looked up and smiled at me, his dark eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

When I woke up the next morning, I took several minutes to luxuriate in my bed. I knew the memories of my dark haired boy would slip away soon enough, so I wanted to savor them while I could. It probably wasn’t healthy to pine for a boy who was only a product of my imagination, but for a few moments I decided to just indulge in my secret fantasies.

My sister’s desire to spend time with Walter would brook no opposition. When, after a few days of constant pressure, pleading, and offered bribes yielded no results, Lilly realized that Walter really would have to wrangle another of his friends. I hoped for one with a smaller head, but with a bit more going on upstairs.

And that’s exactly what Walter did. He must have combed through every boy he’d ever met to fix me up with a very studious fellow named Herschel Tuft. He was a grade above me at school and he had won the Tiburon High School mathematics prize three years running. It turned out that Walter and Herschel were second or third cousins — I wasn’t exactly sure of their family connection — but it sounded reassuring enough for Papa to agree to the date. This time it was more than just a soda at Top’s. We were actually going to walk into town to see a movie. I loved movies so I felt this date wasn’t going to be as much of an imposition on me.

I recognized Herschel from school, of course, as soon as he walked in our front door. I distinctly remembered him accepting his math award the previous year. There was a peculiar angle to the way he held his head when he was nervous and it had stuck in my brain.

Herschel was a pale boy, tall and slender with sandy blond hair that was straight as a pin. He didn’t have his hair loaded up with any kind of hair tonic, which I knew met with our mother’s approval. I’d never previously spoken to Herschel, or had any classes with him, but I immediately felt more comfortable being around him than I had Lev. At least he was closer to me in age.

In contrast to Lev, Herschel said as little as possible while the four of us walked into town. I didn’t mind the silence. In fact, I preferred it to stories about football games. But I did think we should have a little conversation so I tried with, “What do you intend to do after graduation?”

Herschel gave me a started look, as if I was a pet cat that had suddenly started speaking one day. “College,” he eventually answered.

I nodded, waiting for more than a one word reply. When I realized nothing else was coming, I tried, “What do you think you’ll study?”