Dearest Andrew, how I miss him.

Ariana emerged from the shadows. In one swift motion, she reached out and touched my tears.

“Do not cry, dear sister,” she whispered softly.

“I am rather sad and cannot help it,” I responded.

Ariana wiped the tears away with her cold little hands. She was so child-like in her movements and sincerity it made me weep all the more. I could not help but wonder how old Ariana had been when she had been brought into this dark world.

“I used to cry, too. A long time ago. So long ago I cannot remember why I cried.” She pursed her lips. “I sometimes wish I could remember.”

“Was it for your family?” I asked.

She raised her dark eyes and frowned. “But my family is here.”

“No, I mean your mortal family.”

Ariana considered this for a long moment, then shook her head. “I do not remember them.”

I sighed heavily and patted Ariana’s cheek lightly before moving on. She was such a simple child. Perhaps it was best she remembered nothing so she could embrace the decaying grandeur of the castle and the cold creatures that inhabited it.

“Glynis?”

“Yes,” I said, casting a glance over my shoulder.

She seemed almost shy. “Would you…would you like me to show you something?”

I was about to deny the young girl, but something about her expression held a resemblance to my beloved May, so I sighed. “All right, Ariana. What is it?”

She smiled and reached out her small hand. “It is a secret. Come. I will show you.”

I took her hand and hurried after her as the dark haired vampire led me up a series of winding stairways and down long corridors. She drew me so quickly behind her the world rushed past me, and I had the sensation of flight. All at once, she stopped, whirling about before clutching me close to her.

“Tell no one I brought you here,” she said in a low voice, her eyes gleaming.

Smiling brightly, Ariana pushed a door open and lead me into a large room filled with dozens of traveling trunks. Many were already open, the contents thrown about haphazardly on the dusty floor. Six trunks stood out sharply. Each was graced with a brass W on the front latch. With a small cry, I threw myself down before one of the trunks and fumbled with the latches. The lid swung upwards to reveal my father’s favorite traveling coat.

“Father,” I whispered, reaching into the trunk. I drew out the coat and smelt the fine fragrance of my father’s favorite cigars. “Oh, Father.”

Ariana stood beside me with anxious eyes. Her little hands were twisting her curly hair into tight little spirals.

I crawled over to another trunk and opened it. The sweet aroma of lavender wafted up to me as I laid a hand gently on the fine silk gown Mother had loved so. Wrapping my father’s coat around my shoulders, I moved on to May’s trunk. Peering inside, I found May’s battered little doll, Emily. Mother had the doll made for May when she was just a little girl, and it had May’s own hair as its curly locks.

“Dearest May, are you praying for me?” I whispered, then kissed the hard porcelain lips of the doll.

Hugging the doll close, I moved over to my own trunk. Opening it, I drew in my breath sharply. It was as if I were opening a doorway into my mortal life. Drawing back the folds of my many dresses, my hands searched for the small jewelry case I kept my personal treasures in. My hands felt the hard surface and I drew the box from the depths of the trunk.

“What is that?”

“It is my treasure chest, May,” I answered. Realizing what I had said, I looked up at Ariana. “I mean…Ariana…”

The vampire smiled faintly. Her eyes were sympathetic, soft, and, I thought, caring. “He gave her to us.”

I nodded, biting my quivering bottom lip. I understood far too well the power of the hunger. Best not to think of that or of May’s death or else I should go mad.

I reached one hand back into the trunk and felt under the lining until I found the small tear I was searching for. I drew out a small key I had hidden in the lining of the chest and fit it into the lock of my jewelry case. It clicked open and I sat back on my heels with a sigh. Directly on top was a sketch of Lord Byron I had snipped from a newspaper.

“Who is that?” Ariana knelt next to me, leaning forward to gaze down at the picture.

“The love of my very short, unromantic life,” I sighed.

“Your lover? With such full lips his kisses must have been so wonderful, “ Ariana decided with a coy flip of her head.

“Actually, I never kissed him. I met him just once at a friend’s house. I was very young and I think he thought I was a delightful nuisance. I always fancied meeting him on the Continent and having him fall madly in love with me. He is a poet from England. His name is Lord Byron. He is most scandalous.” I laid the clipping on the floor and drew out a much-tattered magazine. “This is something he wrote. At least that is what the magazine says. My brother, Andrew, says a friend of his wrote it. It is a story about a vampire.” I let out a little laugh.

“Really? A vampire? Like us?” Ariana was intrigued. “What does it say?”

“You know if I had not read this, I would not have known what you are. What I am now. I remember reading it late at night, grasping a candle in one hand and a cross in the other. I was so frightened. I asked my mother about vampires the very next day. She told me to stop indulging in such fanciful tales.”

Ariana edged closer to me and shyly hooked one of her arms through mine. “What does the story say, Glynis?”

I took comfort in her affectionate gestures. It made me feel a little less alone. Unfolding the magazine, I settled down on the floor. Ariana huddled close, watching as I flipped through the pages of the magazine until I found the beginning of the story.

“The Vampyre by Lord Byron. Though, according to my brother, it is by John Polidori. Shall I read it to you? It is in English.”

Ariana nodded her head. “I will understand. Read it. Please.”

“All right then.” I laid the magazine on my lap and drew my shawl around Ariana’s shoulders. Snuggled into each other, I began. “’It happened that in the midst…’”

I read the entire story with great intensity, my voice rising and falling with dramatic flair. I love to read and I love stories. I was swept up in the melodrama of the story and only for a moment did I allow myself the painful recognition that in some ways, it mirrored my own. Finally, I finished with the breathless words “‘...Aubrey's sister had glutted the thirst of a Vampyre!’”

Ariana smiled at the gruesome ending. “We always win!”

I could not help but laugh. “You are supposed to be upset, Ariana. Lord Ruthven outwitted Aubrey and killed his sister. It is supposed to be a tragic ending.”

“How could it be if the vampire succeeded?” She frowned at me, confused.

“We are not supposed to cheer on the vampire, Ariana. He is the villain!”

Ariana furrowed her brow. “Oh, do not be silly! He was quite grand! Do you think he is real? This Lord Ruthven? Do you, Glynis? Do you think he could come visit us here at the castle?”

I shook my head and folded up my magazine. How ironic that the story I had once loved so much now seemed a mockery of my own fate? “No, Ariana. He is not real. He was created for the story. In England, they do not even know we exist. We are just figments of someone’s imagination.”

Ariana pouted, lowering her eyebrows over disenchanted eyes. “How could they not know? We do not only exist here.”

“Perhaps, but in England we are considered mere creatures of imagination or madness.” I hurriedly tucked my magazine and the clipping of Byron into the box and placed it back in my chest. I did not even want to consider the horror with which my brother would view my new visage. He would gaze upon me and know I was no longer human, but something monstrous. I knew it in my soul.

Ariana wandered away and began rummaging through a battered chest nearby.

“What are you looking for?”

“I want you to read something else to me. I found it in this chest a long time ago.”

I moved among the traveling cases and slowly came to realize that these were all that remained of the poor travelers who had the misfortune of coming across the castle in their journeys. All sorts of things littered the floor around us: clothes, shoes, toiletries, hats, and various other items.

“This is terrible,” I whispered.

Ariana tossed a wedding gown to one side and burrowed deeper. “I know it was in here. It was a book.”

The door opened and Elina stood in the doorway. Her long straight black hair flowed around her like a mantle and her keen eyes narrowed as she gazed upon me. “The Master is calling for you, Glynis. He wants to see you in his library.”

“She was reading the most delightful story to me, Elina. It was about a vampire that outwitted this mortal man and killed his sister before escaping! It was so wonderful!”

I lifted a dress from my own chest and held it against my body. It was my favorite gown made of fine Italian silk in the prettiest shade of blue. Without a second thought, I pulled the gauzy concoction I was wearing over my head and dressed in my own gown. I did not bother with a corset and felt quite better in my own clothing.

“I really do not care what she was reading to you. Our Master wants to see her. Now.” Elina’s voice was quite nasty as she pulled Ariana’s hair sharply.

Ariana danced free, whirling about. “His name was Lord Ruthven! He was quite ruthless and cruel. So marvelous he was!” Ariana gaily plunged into a retelling of the story, avoiding Elina’s frustrated looks.

I pulled out a pair of my slippers and placed them on my feet. I wrapped a scarf about my neck, tucking it into the low neckline of my gown. Reaching back into the trunk, I found a pair of gloves and my favorite bonnet. In just a few minutes, I had transformed myself from a vampire Bride into a fine English aristocrat. Twisting my hair up into a proper style, I topped it off with my bonnet.

“I am telling you to be quiet now!” Elina tried to catch Ariana, but the younger girl easily evaded her, leaping over a trunk.

“…and it was too late, of course! Because Aubrey could not tell until midnight…”

I smiled sweetly at Elina as I brushed past her. “I am sure she will tell you all the details!”

Elina hissed at me as I laughed and hurried down the hallways and staircases that would lead me back to the heart of the castle. I could hear Ariana still retelling the story until Elina managed to catch her and gag her. I laughed, then found my way to the library where my family had found a few hours of peaceful refuge just a few days before. As I neared the door, I felt what little gaiety I had gained from my storytelling with Ariana drain out of me. Once more, I felt a terrible feeling of despair.

Sighing deeply, I stood outside of the door. For one insane moment, I wished with all my heart that I would open the door to find my family seated there, waiting for me, happy to see me, and ready for the journey home. Instead, I entered and found Vlad seated at the table where my father had sat. He was intently reading a magazine in English.

“You were calling me?”

“You did not hear me?” He did not look up.

“I was with Ariana. I was reading her a story,” I answered rather primly.

Vlad looked up. He took in my English garb, then sat back in his chair. “Cneajna tells me you do not suffer the vagueness of the mind anymore. Is this correct?”

“Yes. I know who I am and what I am,” I answered very softly. I was not sure how to behave before this man who had taken not only my entire life but my very virginity as well. That intimacy was not something I felt capable of dealing with properly. All I was certain of was that I was trapped, and I had to find a way out. Perhaps, if I was sociable to this man who claimed to be my Master, I could somehow conceive of a way to escape.