Of Light and Darkness: The Vampire's Daughter

to continue.

“I didn’t know what else to do, so I continued to work and live in the city. What else should I have done?” The glaze in his eyes disappeared and he locked his gaze with Francis. He stood up in blazing fury.

Francis stood at the far end of the basement also, smiling however. “I wish you would stop whining, Valek. I handed you the world on a plate.”

In a blind instant, Valek was in front of Francis, his fangs bared. He slashed the side of his creator’s face with his claws, but Francis only continued to chuckle as the wounds healed instantaneously.

“You’ve always been so angry Valek,” Francis taunted.

“You give me good reason,” Valek seethed. “I have had very few regrets.” He turned on the rest of the coven. “I do regret what I am.” He looked at Francis. “I do not regret doing what I did for you. Since I saved you from starving to death in this city of gutters, you have done nothing but try and cage me. If there’s any chance of redemption for our kind, I at least know that might be a possibility for me. But not for you. I should make you suffer in turn for making her suffer….” He reached back and ripped a wooden arm from the nearest chair. He set flame to the thing from the fireplace before holding it against Francis’ throat.

Charlotte leapt up and raced to intercept them. Grabbing Valek’s arm and with a hand outstretched to Francis, she yelled, “Stop! You don’t want to do this.”

Francis began laughing again. “You wanted me to do it, Valek. I saw it in your mind. The curiosity was so thick, I tasted it when I drank from you.”

“My wife perished for what you did.” Valek’s jaws clenched together.

“No, dear Valek. She died because of your neglect. That’s the thing. You do have regrets. Many of them. I was just the catalyst.”

Valek dropped the stake, the flames extinguished in the moist dirt. “Either way, you owe me happiness with Charlotte,” he said quietly. “My wife’s death was partially your fault. If I never met you—”

Francis interrupted. “If you’d never met me, you would be dead, and Charlotte would have in all probability grown up in an orphanage, unbeknownst to any of this.”

“In return for saving your life, you will release me from this cage and let me have happiness. I’ve finally found a source of it in her in this miserable reality. After all of this is over and the Regime is overthrown, you will let me go and let me live out the rest of this damned existence as I wish. I’ll follow your idiotic rules under your roof, but I can promise you I won’t be here forever.”

Francis ruefully folded his arms and smirked. He shrugged his shoulders. “You may have her when you leave. But we made a promise to each other. Until this is over, you are mine.”

Charlotte thought for a minute and turned her head to look up toward the thin shafts of light falling from the tunnel. “It’s almost time. Can we continue this argument a different evening?”

Valek stiffened. He and Francis stayed glaring at each other like two titan statues. The firelight glinted off the garnet brooch at the base of Francis’ pearly throat. The idea of decapitating him was extremely appealing to Charlotte in that moment.

“Take me back up to the house.” Charlotte tugged softly on Valek’s shirt.

Francis walked away, yawning. He made his way to one of the coffins on the other side of the basement, and with one last, evil glare toward Charlotte, he closed it with a thump. The rest of the coven averted their attention away also. The excitement was over.

“He wants me dead. He will kill me,” she whispered.

“No, Lottie, he won’t.” Valek turned her gaze back to him again. “He knows I cannot stay away from you as a beloved no more than I can stay away from you as a life source.” He leaned in so his nose brushed at the tip of her neck.

“You’re torturing yourself, you know,” she said.

He sighed, pulling away, his eyes black. Charlotte frowned.

“Shall I take you up then?” he asked sadly.

“Hold on.”

He leaned back on his heels and waited.

“What happened?” she asked. “You did not…finish the story.” She treated her words like stepping stones atop delicate ice.

He opened his mouth to answer and then shut it.

“How did you save a Vampire’s life, when you were only human?”

Valek moved forward and traced her spine with his finger. “The same way you did. I allowed him to feed on me so he would not starve.”

She frowned. That wasn’t the answer she expected. “Is that how you became one?”

He smiled darkly. “No.” He fell silent then and stepped back from her. He playfully held out his hand. “Shall we?”

“Valek?”

He stayed silent, his arm out to her, waiting. When she stubbornly refused to take it, he began to walk in the direction of the tunnel, anyway.

“That’s all you have to say?” she pried, following him.

“Yes,” he answered. She could see the muscles in his neck tense as his hands wound into fists. His nostrils flared and she could tell he stopped breathing, probably in pain from the onslaught of the coming morning.

“Valek, why won’t you answer me?”

His lips peeled back over the tops of his incisors, which instantly made her recoil away from him. He wrapped his arm tightly around her middle, leapt up the thin, dark shaft of dirt and exploded to the main floor of the house. The hallway was empty. He quickly pulled away from her.

She grimaced at him. “Dobrou noc.” Her “good night” was sour.

“Dobry den,” he offered back to her, a loving and light “good morning”. He gazed at her a few moments longer and grabbed her shoulders, but only kissed her very lightly. “Do not be angry with me,” he acknowledged finally, before jumping back down to the basement, leaving her standing there alone.

Too late, she thought toward the basement below.

The dust in the white morning light settled across the lavender shadows on the floorboards behind her. She turned. Light. Warmth. Her fingers itched to grab the brass doorknob, to let it in the house, and on her skin. She hadn’t seen it in days. She walked slowly toward the frosted door window that made the morning light look like it was in a foggy dream — as if it wasn’t really there. She pressed her right hand up to the glass, feeling it just on the other side. But winter was nearing. And the warmth she thought might have been there was not.

“What are you doing up here?” A small, irritated voice chirped from behind her.

Charlotte jumped and spun around to see Sarah standing there. The Witch’s shoes hadn’t made a sound on the dusty wood of the enchanted house hiding in plain sight in the middle of the mortal city. “Where’s Evangeline?”

“In the study. She has not shut up all morning!” Sarah leaned on one hip, clearly frazzled. Her bun, which was still intact, had small frizzing wisps flying out from the sides of it.

“Apparently my housekeeping skills — or any other skill of mine for that matter — do not keep up with her ridiculous standards.” Sarah leaned closer to Charlotte and whispered, “She complains about everything!” She grabbed tightly at Charlotte’s hand and pulled her quickly down the hallway to the study, grumbling things like, “At least you’re here now. You can deal with her while I focus.”

In the den, Evangeline sat cross-legged in front of the fire. Various volumes of spells surrounded her on the floor. She kept one of them in her lap. “Sarah, how do you even practice at all? These grimoires are five generations old at least!” She thumbed through the pages.

“Evangeline….” Sarah sputtered and shoved Charlotte out in front of her. “Charlotte is here. She wants to help.”

Evangeline turned and lifted an eyebrow at Sarah. “And what will you be doing?”

“I just need to run a few errands for Master Francis.” She grinned sarcastically and spun on her heels. “And I