Chapter Eight

Katelina woke with a start, covered in a fine layer
of sweat. The last of the sun’s golden light fell through the
window and illuminated the old fashioned bedroom. It brought with
it a measure of comfort after the nightmares of her sleep.
She wiped absently at her face and tried to forget
her dreams. Blood, so very much blood! The red liquid filled the
sink and spilled onto the floor and, no matter how far she’d
climbed, the tide had crept higher and higher, until she knew there
was no escape from the dark, sucking liquid.
She repeated aloud the mantra her mother had so
often used when she was a child, “They’re only dreams; they’re not
real. They can’t hurt you.” Her voice sounded small in the large
room and, rather than comforting her, it made her feel more
alone.
She wondered about her mother. How was she doing?
Had she discovered her daughter was missing? It had only been two
days, so maybe she didn’t know yet, but “Grave Day” was quickly
approaching. If she didn’t meet her mother at the cemetery she’d
certainly notice, and then she would be hysterical.
And what if she was? What difference would it make?
It wasn’t as if there was anything Katelina could do about it
without putting her mother in danger. If she’d had any doubts about
the peril facing them, last night’s attack at the motel had fixed
that.
Whether a throwback to childish desires, or simply
because she knew she shouldn’t, she wanted to see her mother. She
just wanted to hug her and tell her that, despite their
differences, she loved her.
Katelina shook her head in disgust at the
sentimentality she was indulging in, then slid out of bed and
headed toward the bathroom. It was time she faced the truth: she
was mixed up in something far beyond her normal sphere of
understanding. No amount of her mother’s advice would help. Even
Sarah couldn’t do anything at this point. For better or for worse,
her only hope was a dark haired stranger who called himself
Jorick.
She checked the bedroom door to find it was locked
from the outside. She rattled the handle uselessly and cursed. He’d
told her to stay in the room, and she’d agreed, so why had he
locked her in? Or had someone else done it? Were they holding her
prisoner?
She forced herself to calm down but, when she
reached the bathroom, she discovered that the clothes she’d left
abandoned on the floor were gone, as was the ugly orange bedspread.
She was locked in a room with nothing to wear but a filmy nightgown
and no food. She wanted to scream, though she knew it wouldn’t
accomplish anything. Instead she turned to going through the rooms
in search of clothes, a phone, or anything that might be of
use.
In the bathroom she found a hairbrush, as well as a
bottle of sweet smelling perfume which she used as a morale
booster. In the bedroom she turned up several worn books in the top
drawer of the wardrobe and some dust bunnies.
In defeat, she flopped onto the bed and flipped
through the old books. They appeared to be romance novels from the
mid-eighteen-hundreds. She inhaled the faint musty odor from their
yellowed pages and wondered how long they’d lain in the drawer,
forgotten. Despite the renovations of modern conveniences, the
house was likely a couple of hundred years old and she couldn’t
help but entertain the romantic notion that the books belonged to
some previous owner who left them when she went away to get
married, or died some tragic death. The latter option made Katelina
shiver, and she decided to abandon it. Her situation was scary
enough without adding imagined ghosts.
She dropped the books on the bed and stared through
the window at the deep purple sky. It would be full night soon,
time for all the monsters to come creeping out of the shadows.
The door rattled, then opened to reveal a tired
looking woman in an almost sarcastic rendering of a maid’s uniform.
The dress was reminiscent of a too large Halloween costume. The
skirt hung down to her bony knees, the neckline sagged too low and
the sleeves draped down to nearly her elbows. The effect was like
one imagined a sack dress. Her lank blonde hair was pulled up into
a sad attempt at a bun. Long thin wisps had escaped it to fall all
around her pale, almost sickly colored face. To complete the
picture of surreal oddity, the woman’s arms and legs were covered
in white gauze bandages at strange intervals.
She clutched an armload of pink cloth to her chest
and approached Katelina without looking up. When she spoke, her
voice sounded as weary and strung out as she looked. “The mistress
sends you this, with her compliments.”
Katelina stood quickly and blinked in surprise as
she realized this must be a real servant and not a joke.
Reluctantly, she took the clothes and noted with an almost
abhorrent disgust that bandages were also on the woman’s neck and
chest, peeping out from beneath the dress, and held on by large
quantities of white medical tape. She looked like she’d been mugged
by thieves wielding a letter opener as a weapon.
Katelina turned her attention to the dress she’d
been given. It was a light, creamy pink with no sleeves and a knee
length skirt. A swath of pink lace decorated the bodice, along with
a broach set with pink stones that caught the light. The dress
probably cost more than she made in a week! The thought both
delighted and horrified her.
Unsure what else to do, she gave the maid a wan
smile and murmured, “Thank you.”
The maid continued to stare at the ground, her eyes
unwilling to meet Katelina’s. “When you’ve dressed, the mistress
wishes to see you, to welcome you properly.”
“All right.” Katelina stopped herself from saying
“thank you” again, but it left her standing mute in the middle of
the rug, the dress dangling from her fingers.
The servant woman shuffled out of the room quickly
and shut the heavy door behind her.
A few minutes later, Katelina stood before the
mirror, examining the new outfit. As she turned this way and that,
she whistled softy to herself. If Oren could afford to buy his wife
dresses like this, he wasn’t doing bad at all; especially when she
just handed them out to strangers. So what was up with the old car?
Was he a collector of some sort? And where did his money came from?
Before she could form a theory, door opened again to reveal the
maid.
“If you’d like to come to the kitchen for something
to eat?” It was really more a request than a question.
Katelina hesitated. Jorick had said to stay in the
room until he came for her, “no matter what,” but she was hungry.
Besides, she didn’t think following someone as brow beaten as the
maid could lead to any serious trouble.
“Okay,” she answered at last and abandoned the
mirror to make her way through the door.
The maid shuffled down the dimly lit hallway and
Katelina followed her. Her eyes roamed to the paneled walls set
with heavy doors. She couldn’t help but wonder what lay behind
them. Were there more bedrooms? Perhaps one of the doors led to the
bedroom Jorick was staying in?
Her questions remained unanswered as they turned and
descended the beautifully carved staircase to the green hallway,
then past intricately painted portraits whose eyes stared
uncomfortably from their gilt frames.
The kitchen was towards the back of the house. It
was large and tiled, the furnishings mostly wood and ceramic; old
fashioned appearance with all the modern conveniences. The gleaming
overhead lights made the white counters glitter and the polished
wood shine.
Katelina sat at the table where the maid indicated
and a plate was set in front of her by a worn out looking brunette
wearing a knee–length dress and a cardigan. Her sleeve rode up a
little as she stretched to set down the plate, revealing a white
gauze bandage on her wrist, just like the maid’s. She noticed
Katelina staring and pulled her arm away hastily, then hurried back
to vigorously scrubbing the cutting block.
The plate contained spaghetti and meatballs, and the
smell told Katelina that it came from a microwaveable container.
She’d eaten the same meal for lunch before. Peel back the corner of
the carton, pop it in the microwave and five minutes later –
PRESTO! – spaghetti and meatballs that tasted like cardboard.
As she chewed the instant food, she realized how
hungry she was, and mentally calculated how little food she’d had
in the last twenty-four hours. It took all of her will power, but
she forced herself to eat casually instead of wolfing it down. She
needn’t have bothered because the three servants were too busy
scrubbing the already gleaming surfaces to pay attention to
her.
At the clinking of the fork on the empty plate, the
maid who’d led her there looked up from her polishing. Her eyes met
Katelina’s and dropped away quickly, almost fearfully. She folded
the wash cloth and discarded it before she hurried to the table.
“Please follow me.”
Katelina nodded curiously and followed the maid out
of the kitchen and back into the dark green hallway. Her skin
crawled as they reached the stairs and ascended them. She glanced
around nervously, feeling like evil eyes were watching her. Deep
inside, she knew there was something wrong with the house. An
urgent voice in her mind told her to dash to the front door and
escape, but Jorick’s promise of safety stopped her. He’d kept his
word and so far she had no reason to doubt him.
The maid led her down the second floor hallway, in
the opposite direction of Katelina’s room. A door stood open and
Katelina stepped through it to find herself in a large nursery. A
crib sat in the middle of the room, painted white and surrounded by
bright happy colors. Despite the reds, blues and yellows smiling at
her; the room made her feel queasy. Even the happy clown painted on
the wall seemed to leer menacingly and the stuffed toys on the
shelves bore malice in their shiny eyes.
The dark haired woman she’d seen last night sat in a
white rocking chair, clutching the baby to her. Katelina recalled
Oren addressing her as Jesslynn, and imagined that they made quite
a contrasting pair with his blonde mane and her raven colored
tresses. The woman was actually quite beautiful: her large,
sorrowful eyes held both misery and haughtiness, a combination that
made Katelina look away.
The bandaged maid moved from Katelina’s side and
took the baby from her mistress, murmuring softly about a bath
before feeding time. Jesslynn nodded, like a queen on her
throne.
Before anyone had bothered to explain why Katelina
had been summoned, the small boy she’d seen last night came dashing
into the room, pulling along a wooden duck on wheels. He was
followed by the blonde girl he’d been playing with, the one who was
neither young nor old. He hurried past Katelina as though she
wasn’t there and climbed into Jesslynn’s lap. He whispered in her
ear, then settled himself comfortably.
Jesslynn’s lips curled in a smug smile. “Alexander
says that you look very pretty in my dress.”
Trying to ignore the sensations creeping up her
spine, Katelina forced a smile for the little boy. “Is this
Alexander?” He didn’t reply, but stared back at her, nodding
solemnly.
She was usually good with children, so she tried
again, her smile larger this time. “Thank you, Alexander.”
He made no reply and his mother said smugly, “Oh, he
won’t answer you.” Her lips curled tightly in a smile as she
stroked his head, the same way someone might pet a cat. “Alexander
will only speak to certain people.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say
besides the obvious, “Gee, sorry your son is mentally challenged”,
but that seemed like a bad idea. Maybe whatever was wrong with the
child had something to do with the mysterious illness the whole
household had? She found herself wondering if they weren’t inbred,
though Oren and Jesslynn looked nothing alike.
She studied the woman, looking for some hint at the
malady, but found herself distracted. Jesslynn’s eyes seemed to
smolder with something... Katelina thought it might have been
power, though that undeniable sorrow seemed to hold them. The
combination made them spellbinding.
Jesslynn continued to pet the boy, her eyes fixed
steadily on her guest. “He is a delicate child with a very complex
mind.”
Katelina simply nodded and Jesslynn turned her
attention to Alexander, bending so close to him that her dark
tresses hid her face. “Have you fed yet, my darling?”
The child shook his head no, and she told him to
find Margaret, the secretive smile still clinging to her ruby
lips.
He climbed down and scampered past Katelina. His
wooden duck jogged along behind him as he disappeared through the
door, leaving the blonde woman-child behind.
Jesslynn’s voice floated around the evil nursery
like music, commanding Katelina’s attention, “Children can be
so.... impetuous.”
“Mmmm–hmmm.” Katelina fought the desire to look at
the dark woman. Her heart hammered in her chest with the exertion.
All she wanted was to get away from Jesslynn’s probing eyes and the
thick, suffocating feeling of evil. Every nerve in her body jangled
expectantly, waiting for something terrible to happen, some scene
from a horror movie to unfold. She found her attention drawn
momentarily to the crib and, even though she’d seen Margaret take
the baby, she still expected to peer into it and find a demon
grinning back at her.
Her eyes flicked away from the crib nervously and
landed on the ageless girl. She stood like a sentinel next to a
shelf of toys and looked them over, one after another. When she
finished she started over again, her pale hands clasped in front of
her. Her skin was almost translucent, and her hair spilled down
like curling rivers of molten gold, pale against the soft lilac
dress she wore.
“Have you eaten?” Jesslynn’s dark eyes stared into
Katelina’s blue ones. They mesmerized her until she forgot that
there was anyone else in the world.
Katelina found herself walking forward, closer and
closer to the great queen on her white throne. The dark hair flowed
over her shoulders, shimmering like the wings of a raven. Her dark
lips were full and soft, her skin flawless, her eyes commanding,
calling her forward... Yes... Whatever the great queen wanted...
Nothing was too much to offer her…
“Jesslynn!”
The shout jerked Katelina back into the real world.
Her head felt heavy and fuzzy. She blinked and found herself
kneeling on the floor at Jesslynn’s feet. She looked up to find the
crazy blonde girl next to her on all fours, peering expectantly
into her face. Her mouth opened, revealing a quick pink tongue and
long, white fangs...
Katelina leapt to her feet quickly. She raised her
hand to the throbbing pinpoints of pain on her neck, but pulled it
away when she felt something damp. Two pin sized dots of blood
glistened on her palm, the echo of a new wound.
Her stomach turned. She finally understood what was
wrong with the occupants of the house: they were vampires. For the
love of God, they were vampires!
Jesslynn wiped her mouth. A strange smile flickered
on her lips. “What?” she asked innocently, looking at the newcomer.
“I only tasted her.”
Katelina stumbled as she backed away, but strong
hands caught her shoulders and kept her from falling to the floor.
Panicked, she twisted her head around and found herself looking
into Jorick’s face. Relief swept over her, but it was short lived
as she realized that, though these people were vampires, Jorick had
brought her here. He’d said that vampires were evil, that they were
working with Claudius.
She tried to make her mouth work, tried to ask
Jorick what he was thinking, but the redheaded strolled through the
door before she could. She crossed the room slowly, her hips
swaying sensually beneath a sultry black dress. Her eyes glittered,
but when she reached Jorick she pouted out her lip as she touched
his shoulder. “Ah, Jorick, you have to share. No fair bringing
fresh blood into the house just for yourself.”
Katelina tried to understand the implications. Was
she implying that he was… But no, he couldn’t be like them… like
Jesslynn and the blonde and those who had attacked them… In a
sickening moment, she knew it was true. He was a vampire! Jorick –
her savior, the one who had promised to protect her from the
monsters – was one of them! She’d trusted him! She’d believed in
him!
Her knees trembled as the full impact hit her. Oh
God! She was trapped in a house full of vampires!
“You should share,” the redhead insisted again. “She
has plenty, after all.”
“Her blood is not for anyone to drink!” Jorick
raged. “I made that clear to Oren!”
The redhead rubbed her body against him, purring as
she pressed her breasts into his arm. “Maybe you did, but do you
really think Oren can control me?”
Jorick stiffened at the contact and pulled away from
her. “I expect him to be able to control his own offspring.” He
drew his lips back and snarled at her.
Katelina whimpered and looked away from him; away
from the vampire fangs. She had to be trapped in a nightmare!
Jesslynn cut into the conversation, her tone amused.
“Why should he control us? Why should he even listen to you? You’ve
never controlled him! You couldn’t even stop him from making
us!”
“And look what he made,” sneered Jorick. He nodded
towards the blonde woman-child, who was still on all fours licking
her lips and staring at Katelina like she was a pork chop. “Her
mind was lost.”
Jesslynn stood quickly; the great queen angered.
“She is mine! How dare you!”
Margaret chose that moment to return, interrupting
what could have been an explosive argument. She carried the baby in
her arms and the little boy followed behind her, still tugging his
wheeled duck. Katelina wanted to grab the children and run. She
wanted to save them from the demoness with her pale skin and
sorrowful eyes, save them from madness, but Jorick held her
firmly.
Alexander and Margaret reached Jesslynn. The
vampiress looked at them and her face caught between expressions of
anger and doting. She settled on the latter as the servant held the
baby out, offering him freely.
“Would you like to feed him today, or do you wish me
to, Mistress?” Margaret’s voice was hollow and emotionless.
Jesslynn’s eyes glowed. “Oh, I think that you can
manage it for today. I haven’t fed nearly enough.” She smiled
evilly and pulled the woman’s dress open, exposing her bare breasts
to the cool air.
Jesslynn used a single, long nailed finger to cut a
line across the maid’s tender flesh. Crimson blood rose quickly to
the surface. Margaret, expressionless throughout, lifted the baby
and pressed its eager mouth against the bleeding wound.
Katelina’s head swam as she stared at the spectacle
before her – trying to figure out what they were doing to the baby.
She twisted in Jorick’s grip and saw Alexander standing next to the
blonde. His own small set of fangs gleamed in the light as he made
some comment to his companion.
Katelina jerked her gaze to Margaret and saw two
brand new puncture marks in the woman’s neck, too small for any
adult to make.
Jesslynn caught Katelina’s horrified gaze and
smiled.