Memoirs of an Immortal Life (16 page)

“Leave us,” he shouted as I disappeared.

I knew he would strip Claudia of her clothing and examine her without regard for her feelings
. I could hear her cries long after he had finished. I too wept for the indignity he forced her to endure. She is so pure, such an innocent creature. I adore her so deeply. I cannot understand what it is he punishes her for, if it is his own sins he puts upon her or those which he believes she has committed I do not know.

But this I do know, Ahbrim is mad and I cannot, with a good heart, leave Claudia in his care.

7 May 1897

I gave to him the time needed to collect his thoughts and make use of his medical devices to determine the state of Claudia’s condition. After many hours, he came to me as I sat alone in the cellar of this house where I felt safe, even though Claudia had long ago moved what few possessions I have to one of the upper rooms. I heard him approach long before he announced himself.

“I offer you my apologies, Vladimir.”

“It is not with me your kind words should be spoken. They should be with your daughter.”

“It was a necessary evil. I thought you would understand.”

“She may be your daughter, Ahbrim,” I explained. “But she is still a woman. You treat her no better than those I witnessed stand accused of crimes against the church. You should consider this when you force such indignities upon her.”

He sat next to me, a man troubled and guilt ridden. Empathy is not an emotion I am comfortable expressing, so I said nothing as I sat alongside him. I, instead, expressed only that which pertained to my considerations.

“I wish to return to my home, Ahbrim. It will no longer be safe for me to reside here in Budapesth with you and Claudia within the confines of this deplorable house. I can no longer rely on Claudia’s blood to staunch my growing hunger now that she is cured and will not require the bloodletting to continue. Let me return to where I belong, to where I have remained hidden.”

His expression was a curious one as he looked at me. He appeared filled with hope which was not directed toward Claudia any longer. It was now directed toward me.

“Do you not see the implications, Vladimir? If your blood could cure Claudia, God willing, she could be your cure as well. You would be released from this eternal damnation and could make penance.”

My laughter echoed through the house like thunder before I turned my gaze toward his.

“A cure is not in my interest, Ahbrim. I have come to accept my fate. It would be wise for you to do the same. I did not kill you, Ahbrim, all those years ago because of whom you are to me. Do not force me to revisit that decision.”

“At least listen to what I wish to tell you. Do not turn away from me now as you did then. I
remained loyal to you. I broke my solemn word to God and the Pope, to save you, from the hands of those who would have killed you, countless times including Mr. Harker and his associates. I, too, live in eternal damnation for what I have done. Would you not want to be released from this affliction and from your guilt?

“I have no guilt, nor any remorse. That was lost to me long before I became what I am, long before the night they took her from me. Let me go, Ahbrim. Live your life and release me from the vow that bound you to me. Mordecai is long cold in his grave as is Pios and the others. Is it not enough that I abided by your wishes throughout the centuries, that I remained hidden as you wished? Let me go Ahbrim. Set me free.”

My words, I am certain, were unheard. He will never stop this pursuit to save my soul. Now that his beloved daughter is cured, his madness will turn toward me. Peace shall never be mine.

He finally left distressed that I would not listen to him. Ahbrim would not be difficult for me to overpower. Easily could I have at that moment influenced him to take leave with his daughter. Yet, I find the conflict I felt only yesterday continues to grow. I fear for Claudia’s safety in his care and what he might do to her. His obsession could turn toward experimenting on her blood to use to further his experiments. How could I, in good conscience, leave her to him without my protection? I must find the means by which I can convince him to return with me to Castle Baserab if she is to live.

Beneath her outer face, I existed for centuries, my lair secretly contained, emerging only as needed as a kindly benefactor who wished to restore the Castle to its former glory, often claiming to be a descendant of the Baserab family in the false pretenses showed. It has proved well over the years and allowed me to restore her to the glory she once held. Elisabeta’s belongings have long been stored beneath the Castle as a silent reminder of our love. I have never had the fortitude to destroy them, for in the simplest items she lives on for me. I built beneath the Castle a room in which they are kept as a continuous reminder of her beauty and the love I was once able to hold in my heart. It mirrors the room Nicolai had built for her, a constant reminder of how that which we love, that which makes us whole, can be taken from us in an instant.

Perhaps, if I agree with him under the façade that I will be his willing subject, I can convince Ahbrim to accompany me to Castle Baserab and save Claudia in the process.

Claudia Van Helsing’s Journal

8 May 1897

Budapesth

My Vladimir is sad this day. I cannot explain how it is I know this, I just do. I feel his longing, the deep ache within him to return to his home. We are strangely connected, he and I, since the day he cured me. I have memories I do not understand of Vladimir and my father as though they knew each other in another time, another place. His connection, an undeniable bond, to my father is profound to the point of being unfathomable. How could I possibly feel this?

Fleeting images of his life, a life filled with sorrow and despair play in my mind. In the shadows can be seen a man whose appearance seems to be that of my father, yet I do not understand how this could be. They seem so ephemeral, yet so real.

Father’s walk will not be long from now. I will speak with Vladimir and learn the truth behind how he became what he is and what happened to cause it.

Late Afternoon

I stood in the hallway, pacing, as I waited for father to leave. He spoke with Vladimir at the base of the staircase; Vladimir assuring him, as he always does, that he would watch over me in his absence. As soon as I knew father was safely gone, I rushed down the stairs.

“Who was she, Vladimir?” I asked.

“She was my wife.”

“She died, a long time ago, did she not?”

“I do not wish to speak of this with you, Claudia. It is a dark memory I do not wish to relive at this moment.”

I rushed toward him unafraid of what I knew him to be.

“You must tell me, Vladimir. I must know the truth. I do not understand what is happening to me. I see things I know cannot be true, and I believe them to be your memories. Yet how could my father be part of your life then? He is not as you are.”

He was silent as he dropped his head.

“Claudia, there is much you do not understand. Let the dead rest. Do not bring this to light.”

“If you will not tell me the truth, then I will be forced to confront father. Please, the truth from you I know I can have faith in to be the truth. I know not whether I can believe what he tells me anymore.”

“The history between us is long, Claudia, and troubled. Sit and I will tell you what I can, then he must tell you the rest.”

I sat with him for nearly two hours before father returned and could scarcely believe what he told me to be the truth, yet in my heart, I knew that Vladimir could not lie. He was not capable of it. His convictions were too strong. I knew, not only from the way he spoke, but because of what I felt and saw in his memories. By the time my father returned I swore an oath to Vladimir that I would do whatever was in my power to free him from my father’s grasp, including convincing my father that we must return to Castle Baserab.

9 May 1897

I waited until this morning to approach my father, not letting him know about the previous evening’s conversation between myself and Vladimir. When he returned we were playing chess, so it would appear as though little conversation had occurred between us. At
breakfast, I approached the subject with a certain amount of caution.

“Father, now that I am cured, and Vladimir is long past healed, how much longer must we remain here?” I asked.

“There is still much I can learn from the qualities of his blood, my sweet child. How can I allow Vladimir to linger on in this state? Would I be an honorable man if I did so?

“He is weary, Father, and broken. Is that not enough for you?” I pleaded.

“It is more difficult than just a single request.”

“Then let us take him somewhere, anywhere other than this place. Is there not a place that he calls his home? Perhaps if he were surrounded by that which is familiar to him, you could persuade him to allow you to at least try.”

My father, after listening to my argument on Vladimir’s behalf, agreed that perhaps if Vladimir were home he would be more agreeable. My heart soared when I stood at the bottom of the staircase and heard my father ask Vladimir to join us for dinner;   he had a proposal he wished for Vladimir to entertain.

“Thank you, Claudia,” I heard whispered in the deep recesses of my thoughts. It was Vladimir. I know now that we will share a bond that time will never break, and that he will always care for me.