Forbidden

Epilogue: Blood Daughters

Long after the chapel cleared, Gabriella remained in the shadows. She had waited centuries for this moment and was not bothered by a few extra hours of patience. Overhead, she caught the sounds of feet and murmuring voices, the stone around the chapel too thick for even her excellent hearing to make out individual words.

She knew they were concerned about the brat. Someone returned briefly to pick up the bottle Van drank from, no doubt to determine its contents. Curious, she ran her finger along the ground until she brushed against liquid. Raising her finger to her nose, she sniffed.

Valerian root would act as a sedative. That was kind of Abe, she supposed. Offering his victims a moment of peace. Blueberry and basil were also present. Strange combination that. Her knowledge of herbs had faded over the years, but she remembered both being used to cleanse the blood. There were other things she couldn't pinpoint, but it was the binding agent that revealed the true purpose of the elixir and solved the riddle of Van's fever.

Fire magic was strong and unpredictable, but it was necessary when purification was the goal. Gabriella followed the channel running around the burial vault. The scent of blood had intoxicated her the moment she entered the chapel, but an underlying fragrance perverted it. Now she knew it resulted from this elixir being ingested before death.

"Nothing but the best for dear, Abe," she said, sliding a finger along the marble lid.

The children of Proteus were Demi-gods, their blood diluted by whatever creature the Sea god had rutted with. The potion burned away every part of them that wasn't Protean. It was the closest the Helsings could get to sacrificing a god, and the only way to keep the Countess sleeping for all these years. Idly, she wondered what Van would be like when she woke up. If she survived, as Gabriella suspected those who drank it were killed by a blade too soon after consumption to test the theory.

She turned her thoughts to the more important task at hand. Spreading her arms wide along the lid, she pressed her full lips to the lid before saying, "Oh, how I've missed you, Mother."

Gabriella had traveled the world in search of Elizabeth Bathory, and the evidence she collected led her to the doorstep of a family she considered her mortal enemies. Ensnaring Abraham in marriage was easy enough. Her body was the only weapon she ever required, and with his arrogance and broken heart, he was no match for her.

Never would he have suspected she was the one thing he feared most, and truth be told, warming his bed had not been the hardship she imagined. Night after night, as he tried to plant his seed in her womb, she returned the favor by filling him with the venom in her fangs. It made him prone to suggestion, and she had enjoyed turning him toward madness.

And she only turned him to madness because she could not draw the truth out of him. No matter how hard she pressed, no matter how close to the brink of death she brought him, Abe would not give up his secrets. Not until Van.

The room echoed the slap of her palm on the burial vault. These fools thought they had figured out the origin of the vampire. They called Elizabeth the mother of modern vampires, and Gabriella supposed in some ways, it was true. The vile, beast-like creatures who plagued the earth resulted from the Countess' interference. She had taken the perverted ritual of her first lover, Haimon, and passed on its secrets to those who amused her.

Gabriella- Elena- as she had been known then- was a favored lady of the court, admired for her rich, brown skin and contrasting green eyes. She was never far from the Countess, and she had watched Elizabeth draw the runes on many bodies over the years. Elizabeth used her own blood to bind their power to her, but she never shared hers with any of them. That was the mistake Haimon had made when he tried to use her. She would share power with no one. Not even her Blood daughters.

Gabriella's core heated as memories washed over her. How often had she watched people fornicate in front of the Countess- sharing blood with their partner as they reached the highest point of pleasure, igniting the magic in the symbols on their skin, and binding them to the night for eternity? Those who were too human died, but the few who were strong enough rose and took on the mantle of vampire.

Outside of their dependency on blood, those beings were as alike as the Countess and her Blood daughters as night was like day. Elizabeth had found favor with another, whose power source was almost as old as Proteus himself. Far older than the weak hybrid, Haimon and far stronger.

She lifted the marble slab with the same ease she would use to pick up a feather. Resting on rotting silks was the husk of the woman Gabriella had once admired most in the world. A woman who had shown her the beauty of pleasure and pain, and the perfection that was achieved by blending them together.

As predicted, with the midnight hour long gone, the Countess was waking. Lashless lids lifted slowly, revealing black eyes. She touched the Countess' cold cheek, trying to hide her distaste for the sensation of dry flesh beneath her finger. She caressed Elizabeth until the last bit of haze cleared from her expression.

"Good," Gabriella purred, reaching into the satchel at her waist. "I wanted you to be aware of what was happening."

Wrinkled lips popped open, causing a cascade of flaking skin to fall around her chin and neck. The words the Countess spoke were inarticulate. Her tongue was stiff and lacking dexterity. She needed the sweet relief of fresh blood, but she would not find it tonight. Or ever.

"I'm sorry, Mother, but you had your time. You wasted your power on fornication and debauchery. The Blood Daughters are ready to move into their rightful place as rulers of this new world, and I will lead them." She pressed the sharp tip of her stake against Elizabeth's breast. "Ambrosio told me to tell you hello."

She had killed other Blood Children before. It always took effort to slide the wooden stake into skin harder than stone. Without fresh blood, Elizabeth was brittle, and she gave easily beneath Gabriella's strike. Cracks spread across her skin, and then she turned to dust.

After centuries her mission was complete, and she could lead her people with the power that was hers by right. Gabriella stepped back, replaced her weapon, and returned to the darkness.

Upstairs, someone screamed.