Forbidden

Lineage

Van

"What is it about y'all and underground?" Van asked with a shiver. "For people all about holiness and light, you sure prefer the opposite direction."

"Us, Van. Not you people and I suppose it's a matter of convenience. Much easier to build basements than towers in the sky."

The tunnel he led her down was like the one at the Holy Asylum of Light. All damp stone and gloomy light, only this time she had a relatively clear understanding of what awaited for her at the end. Rather than ease the anticipation, it made it worse, and she jumped at every drip and shadow.

Abe kept his attention on her, his feet familiar with the path, but she didn't dare look him in the eye, too afraid he would see her mounting fear. He couldn't mean they were on their way to meet Elizabeth Bathory, the Blood Countess? The evidence on the flash drive pointed toward a yes, but her presence here made little sense. Her father would have destroyed the woman on the off chance that it would end any vampire linked to her.

"So, this Countess... Is she a relative?"

Van strove for a flippant tone, not wanting her father to think she knew anything, which is why she was shocked when he stumbled at her words.

He remained silent as he unlocked a massive door. At the Asylum, the metal doors leading into the lab looked out of place against the stone, but this door looked as if the tunnel had sprung up around it. The strap hinges were ornate but rusted, and silver lines covered the black oak. It took her a minute to understand that she was looking at the Asylum's labyrinth symbol.

Her instincts told her to remain in the hallway, but curiosity drove her through the doorway. Putting pressure on the wound at her side to ease a sudden surge of pain, she paused only a few steps inside and inhaled sharply.

Though they were below ground, the walls were covered in mosaics of stained glass windows back-lit by an unnatural luminescence. Gothic rib vaulting covered the gigantic room, and a procession of lit candelabra stands drew the eye down an aisle ending at a massive altar. The mosaic motif continued on the floor. Burgundy and white diamonds made a border around larger heptagon shaped tiles, and on each of the bigger tiles, names were etched in gold.

"Gabriel Van Helsing," her father said as he bent over to brush his fingers over a tile. It was newer than the others, the gold still bright and glimmering. "Your grandfather. I don't suppose you ever put it together that your mother gave you my family's name?"

No, she hadn't, but his revelation left her cold. "And yet you still insist on calling me Vanessa."

"I think it suits you. We haven't had many daughters born into the Helsing line." His eyes flickered to the altar. "None survived for long. I suppose in an odd way, saying your full name reminds me of what's at stake if I cannot keep you safe."

"Why because you don't have a son to carry on the family name?" She limped down the aisle, taking in all the details. The wooden pews and strange, metallic scent in the air. Flecks of something dark stained a set of silver chalices resting at the foot of a large, gold plated vault that rested atop the altar.

"All these tiles," she began, swallowing hard as she circled the vault, "is this where the family is buried?"

"Yes, because this is our actual mission." Abe rested his hand on the vault, his head bowed as he spoke. "We guard against her awakening even in our death. With every Helsing body that is laid to rest, the surrounding wards strengthen."

"Her?" Van stepped back. "The Countess? How can she wake if she's dead?"

"She's not dead. Only sleeping."