Of Light and Darkness: The Vampire's Daughter

Charlotte glanced back and had to laugh, too. The woman might have been considered appetizing when she’d found her at the start of the night, but now she looked like she was emerging from a coma.

“I found her outside of a tavern in Prague.” She chuckled. “She’s a mess now.”

Valek’s brow creased with worry again. “You went all the way to Prague? ” His tone turned parental. “Charlotte, you are never supposed to travel that far for me. You know it is very dangerous.”

Charlotte winced. “Yes. But Evangeline gave me a few spells she’d been working on. One for transportation, the other for half-life.”

“I see.” Valek's expression eased back again. “Please send Evangeline my thanks then. I am happy she is looking out for you.” He kissed Charlotte on the forehead and began leading the woman by the hand into his office.

There were only two instances when she was not allowed to be in the same room with Valek — when he fed, and at sunrise. He had established those rules as soon as she was old enough to understand them. An Elf had been her caretaker during those times, but now she was old enough to keep away on her own.

Charlotte was about to disappear for the evening, to immerse herself in yet another book, when something kicked at her memory. She called out, stopping him. “Oh! I hope you don’t mind. Evangeline mentioned stopping by tomorrow night.”

“Yes. Of course,” Valek said. “Is everything all right?”

“I think she just wants to visit you.” Charlotte smiled, in spite of the sick feeling forming in her gut again.

Valek chuckled, which made her frown. She imagined he understood the way she felt about Evangeline better than even she did. The psyche of an adolescent girl was probably not a difficult thing for a worldly Vampire like him to figure out.

“Are you okay with it?” He shifted an eyebrow, another bright smile playing on his handsome face.

“Yes.” She hated the fact Valek could hear her thoughts. In most ways he was like a father, but in other more annoying ways, he was much like an older brother. Charlotte grumbled and disappeared over the library threshold.

The library was Charlotte’s favorite part of the house, the room where she spent the most time growing up. It was where she did all of her schoolwork, where she and Valek put the Christmas tree in the winter. Sometimes, on nights when she finished hunting for Valek early, she went in there to sketch elaborate works into a large, leather journal.

Finding she did not have an ear for music and was too clumsy for dance, drawing had become her most favorite form of self-expression.

Often, she’d emerge from the library in the mornings, hands and arms covered in graphite. Her magical world had become one giant muse. But when she did not feel inspired to sketch, she found herself studying, taking it upon herself to learn about the dark facets of Valek’s life and vampirism. This sort of studying, of course, being outside of her nightly curriculum Valek preferred — normal things like literature and arithmetic. Charlotte knew Valek hated when she became so engrossed in these books, but it fascinated her to no end.

Charlotte flicked a switch that illuminated a small, spidery lantern, which hung from the center of the ceiling. She was comforted by its faint glow, the way it warmed the familiar, forest-colored walls behind large, dusty oak shelves. Breathing in the welcoming scent of pipe smoke and pine needles, she entered further into the room to scan the shelves for her favorite book: The Anatomy of Vampires: Volume One. The damaged spine poked out at her from the very top ledge, as it always did. Stretching upward on her toes, she took the tattered volume. The pages shifted between the covers, loose because she had studied it so many times. She opened it to the page she had last dog-eared — a particular unit discussing feeding habits. This page focused on complications of only feeding on animals, something she often wondered about.

She hadn’t always known she was different from him. When she was a child, around three or four, she would go around biting Valek’s patients, trying so desperately to be like him. Most of them only laughed at her. They loved Charlotte. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. But there was one day, she recalled, just before her fifth birthday, when she made what started out as an innocent mistake.

A Fairy had come in to Valek's office suffering a raging headache. It surprised her as a young child to find Fairies were not the much loved stereotypical little girls with wings and pointy ears that mortals revered in her childhood fairytale books. In truth, humans would not have expected the bloodthirsty monsters with large insect wings, jagged incisors, and slanted, electric eyes. They were androgynous and more bloodthirsty than Valek had ever been, even in his lowest moment.

The young Charlotte, rearing herself, let out a tiny roar and bit the Fairy on its claw after it had stalked into Valek’s office. The thing spun sharply on her, its jagged teeth bared. A horrible bellow ripped from the back of its throat, sludge spewing from its gums. Charlotte screamed and cried in fright, scurrying away as it chased after her.

The Fairy’s jaws snapped shut and opened again as it pursued her around Valek’s office. Pieces of equipment were trashed, important documents flew all over the room, and chunks of countertops and walls were in splinters — smashed by the Fae trying to get to Charlotte. Black saliva dripped from its teeth as it finally cornered Charlotte in a space between two, thick bookshelves. Its snapping jaws only inches from her face.

Valek appeared. Gripping its cranium with his large hands, he snapped the creature’s neck in half with a crunch.

The Fae fell to the floor, its wings thrashing in its final death throes. It became drenched in its own blue- black blood, which oozed from its mouth and soaked the bottom of Charlotte’s shiny, black Mary Janes.

She stood there screaming, watching the monster die. Valek quickly grabbed her into his arms and ran her up to his bedroom, all the while shielding her from the smell now permeating his office. It had been the only time in her life she had ever been welcomed into his room.

Valek sat Charlotte on the edge of his bed, her tiny legs dangling over. He knelt in front of her and wiped the tears away from her face. She only stared at him, crying, and screaming as loud as her little lungs possibly could. He wiped the stuff away from her nose with one of his puffy sleeves and hushed her gently.

“Hush, Lottie. Don’t cry,” he whispered.

She sniffled, but the tears continued to fall. He set her on his lap; the ruffles of her little, red dress upped around her knees. He brushed the hair out of her face and flashed the largest smile he could conjure. However, the sight of his fangs did little to calm her.

“Lottie. Little Lottie.” He hummed gently.

Charlotte was eased then by his velvet voice and quieted.

“You see? You are all right. It was just a big bug. I squashed it for you.” He managed to smile slightly less horrifyingly that time.

“S-squashed it?” She rubbed at her eyes. He took her small hands in his and balanced her on his knees.

“Yes. I squashed it,” he said valiantly.

She let out a tiny smile.

“That’s it. Everything is okay now.”

Charlotte nodded at him. He kissed her forehead and explained she really was very different from him and everyone else who lived in the Occult. He explained further how she was special because she was different and that was exactly why he loved her so very much. That was the first time Charlotte ever fully understood.

She blinked back the memory and rubbed at her eyes as they grew heavy. She decided she would just go to sleep early instead of staying up into the wee hours of the morning. Valek had preoccupied himself for the evening anyway. It had been a while since she had been awake during the day, and she decided tomorrow she would escape for a few hours in the sunlight.

She took one last glance at the following chapter in the volume entitled The Daily Death of a Vampire and put the book away on the very top shelf. She didn’t want Valek to find out she had been studying it again. Though, as she did so, she recalled the unnerving information the previous chapter of the book withheld.