Daughter of Darkness (Kindred 1)

I nodded and followed her out to the living room. Four of the elders had arrived. I recognized Mr. Biggi and Mrs. Everstreet. They had both been here many times before and brought both me and Marla presents. We called them Uncle and Aunt. Mr. Biggi was as kindly to us as any grandfather would be. He had a full head of thick white hair, a robust complexion, and a firm, self-confident posture. Like Daddy’s age, his was impossible to determine. Despite the soft, light wrinkles around his eyes, his eyes were as bright as a newborn baby’s.

Aunt Everstreet, on the other hand, looked more like Mrs. Fennel, tall and slim, with a habitual hardness in her face. Her nose was not as pointed or her chin as pronounced as Mrs. Fennel’s, but she seemed to have the same eyes and spoke with the same sharp confidence, projecting that no-nonsense demeanor. She was always happy to see us, however. This morning, she looked more serious than ever.

I was introduced to Mr. Taggert and Mr. White. Both looked younger than Mr. Biggi and Mrs. Everstreet but much older than Daddy. I thought I had seen Mr. White before, maybe when I was only five or six. He looked more nervous than any of the others.

Daddy sat in his chair. “This is Lorelei, you’ll all remember,” he said.

Mr. Biggi was the only one who smiled at me. The others nodded and quickly sat.

“Okay,” Daddy said. He wanted me to remain standing in front of them. He turned to me. “Begin with the first day he approached you.”

I didn’t know how detailed I should be, but I even described what he had been wearing. I told them the things he had said as best as I could recall, and I even told them about his joke with the personal references.

Mrs. Everstreet asked me to describe his face in as much detail as I could. I didn’t want to say it, but his eyes drew my attention so hard and fast that it was almost as if I didn’t notice the other features. She asked me about his hands, too, which I thought odd. There was nothing unusual about them that I could recall.

“I didn’t hold hands with him ever,” I said when she asked if his palms were soft and smooth.

They were all silent for a moment.

“The Ilks had a son who fits that description,” Mr. White said. “Remember that incident in Pittsburgh?”

“Yes, but that was some time ago. In fact, I haven’t heard anything about them for more than fifty years, I think,” Mr. Biggi said. “Tell us exactly what happened last night,” he told me.

I was a little hesitant, afraid that they would all see how weak I was, how I had almost been drawn out of my window. When I was finished, they were all quiet a moment. Then Uncle Biggi looked at Daddy.

“That was very close. Do you think you might want to move on, Sergio?”

“Absolutely not immediately. I’ve never run from any of them before, and I’m not about to now. I’ll consider when things calm down,” he said. “Lorelei has farther to go in her education,” he added.

No one had to tell me that he didn’t mean my school education.

“Everything’s been going fine here until this incident,” he continued. “You’ll all get the news out. It’s important that everyone understand that what was done had to be done. No one here is trying to do or be anything more.”

“I strongly doubt anyone would suspect you of that, Sergio,” Mr. Biggi said. He looked to Mr. Taggert, who had yet to say anything.

“However, if they farm here,” Mr. Taggert said, “it will be very bad, Sergio, very difficult for you to continue.”

“Well,” Daddy said, softening a bit, “not right away. It’s a city, a huge population, from which we draw.”

“You’re not saying there’s room for them, are you?” Mrs. Everstreet said. “Remember what happened in Paris just ten years ago.”

I looked at Daddy. What had happened in Paris?

He glanced at me. “Thank you, Lorelei. You can go do what you like now,” he said.

I rose.

“You’re looking quite beautiful,” Mr. Biggi said. “You’re surely going to be one of your fath

er’s favorites.”

“Quite striking, Sergio. Don’t risk losing her,” Mr. Taggert said.

“I won’t,” Daddy said sharply. He looked at me with an expression that said, Go.

I returned to my room. Ava was waiting there for me, standing by the window and staring at the bloodstain Mrs. Fennel had not yet washed away. Maybe she wanted it to be there forever as a reminder for me.

“What happened?” Ava asked.