WE HAD PERFORMED the cleansing ritual every year for a century now. Dreading the emotional trauma and physical pain that awaited, the four of us sat alone in our rooms contemplating what was about to happen. As the clock struck eight, I lifted the hood of my lily-white robe and placed it over my head. I would be the first to enter.

The living room was barren of furniture and all evidence of the holiday removed. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn tightly across the windows and layers of white, gauzy linen covered the walls. Rows of black tapers suspended in tiered brass candelabras lined the room. Now visible, inlaid in the hardwood floor was a large compass rose. Around it in concentric circles, 100 tiny red votive candles flickered, separated by four passageways to the points. At the center of the symbol stood a tall Carrara pedestal and font. Chiseled into the cold, hard stone, Les Dames Blanches danced around the base, their pale beauty hypnotic, and thrilling.

As the sky seeped to a dark indigo, a shallow pool of water appeared inside the basin, lapping and swirling around the edges. The water churned and began to glow. Caught in the liquid snare, the luminescence coalesced into a thin shaft of light. The silvery beam intensified and expanded, climbing upward to the ceiling, rising beyond the chamber into the heavens. Now a beacon of light it beckoned to the spirits of the night. They came to us as they always did, hoping to claim what they had so long been denied. Released within the confines of the room they cast their terrifying silhouettes across the walls in frantic turbulence, dancing to a haunted beat, rhythmic and mesmerizing, like a primitive pagan ritual. Their high-pitched screams echoed in our ears but fell deaf to those of the mortal world. The hour was nearly upon us, and the air was thick with despair.

I summoned the others. "Children of the night, I call to you to join in our communion." With arms outstretch and hands supine, I waited.

Three robed, hooded figures glided into the room and took their positions. "We are here to join you mother in our communion," they answered as they raised their arms and laid them wrist over wrist, forming a four-pointed star.

"We join together tonight in mourning and in celebration of this 100th anniversary of our death and rebirth. From darkness there was light. We come together to remember, to seal the union we have been blessed and cursed with. To draw rejuvenating blood from the eternal fountain of life. To strengthen our bonds and bodies. To ask for mercy on our souls. Children, open your minds and join me."

Four minds became one, and a veil fell over our eyes. To the silent screams of the spirits the memories began to come, merging perspectives into one all-seeing, shared experience...

***

It was Christmas Eve, 1908. Samuel worked late into the evening closing down the office with his new employee Erdo Speyer. A European immigrant, Erdo arrived in New York City the previous month on the SS Lucania from Liverpool. Sam hired the man and found a place for him to live when he realized Erdo was alone and destitute. Recognizing the bounty of our blessings, Sam took pity on Erdo and invited him to join us this holiday evening.

The girls and I eagerly awaited the men's arrival. Emily entered the kitchen holding her favorite doll and singing "The First Noel" practicing for her solo at this evening's midnight mass. With one foot in the door of womanhood, Emily fought the tide, preferring to remain in a young girl's world. She looked pretty in her red ruffled dress and white collar, with her long blond hair curled in ringlets down her back. We had just finished making cookies and little puffs of flour powdered her china doll face. 

Margaret was in the kitchen too. At the age of eighteen, she, on the other hand, had rushed into adulthood and embraced it, along with the new ideology of women's rights. Like other young women of the time, her attitudes and beliefs were evident in her refusal to wear the traditional, uncomfortable corsets of the day, associating them with the restrictive social system. Instead, she elected to wear a long, simple skirt and tailored shirt that was fast becoming the uniform of the modern woman. Sam would be disappointed to see her dressed like this for Christmas, but I understood. It was her way of making a statement.

Margaret peeled potatoes while complaining about Mayor McClella's decision to revoke the licenses of the motion picture theaters that afternoon. Swept up in the women's rights movement she felt she needed to take a stand. This matter wasn't simply about the movie houses; it was an issue of free choice. I couldn't help but smile. She looked so much like Sam jabbing her finger in the air as he did. Knocking a strand of chestnut hair loose, Margaret quickly tucked it back into the carefully arranged bun, her green eyes shining with purpose as she spoke.

James walked in the door. What a surprise! We didn't expect him that evening, but he stopped by on his way to his fiancée's house. Emily ran to her big brother, and he picked her up in his arms and swung her around in a circle.

Earlier in the day, the weather turned cold, and a light dusting of snow had fallen. Inside our home, the fire warmed us. Our spirits were high as we had much for which to be thankful. The last ten years had been good for Sam's business, and we had prospered. He proved to be a shrewd businessman, making several profitable investments that left us more comfortable than we ever imagined.

The house looked festive dressed with green garlands and red bows. Sam and James had brought home a tall evergreen the night before, and its rich pine scent perfumed the air. Emily and Margaret had collected bits and pieces of fabric, buttons, feathers, twigs and dried flowers over the last weeks. They worked tirelessly weaving the pieces together into tiny birds' nests that now hung on the tree. Samuel loved to see the beautiful Christmas decorations the girls created and always made a fuss over them. Above the fireplace hung six stockings, one for each member of our family and an extra to make our evening guest feel at home.

Emily watched out the window for her father as the clock neared eight. We looked forward to meeting Sam's new friend whom we had heard so much about. "Father's home!" Emily shouted when she spied him coming down the road. She ran to the door and threw it open. Margaret, James, and I followed her into the living room.

"Now this is what I call a greeting!" Sam said. Stepping into the house, he removed his hat and combed his rumpled auburn hair back in place with his fingers. He winked an emerald eye at me and brushed a kiss across my lips. "Son, what a pleasant surprise; we weren't expecting you until tomorrow. Girls come give your father a hug." Samuel opened his arms wide to Emily and Margaret and then moved aside for the other man to enter. "Erdo, please come in. I'd like you to meet my family."

From behind him stepped an unassuming elderly gentleman, looking to be in his early seventies. Age and hard work had taken a toll on his body; his thin, frail frame bent low over a cane. Dull eyes peered out from a weathered face etched with lines. Thinning hair that hadn't been cut or washed in a long time took on a yellow pallor. He was dressed shabbily, and the soles of his shoes separated at the seams. I understood why Samuel had taken mercy on this poor soul. Erdo held something in his hands wrapped in bakery paper. Appearing to have little money to his name I appreciated the sacrifice he must have made to buy the Christmas offering.

The family received Erdo warmly. Once inside the threshold, his hunched body relaxed, and he unfurled into a standing position. His demeanor changed. He smiled broadly, revealing short pointed teeth framed by elongated fangs. The weary look in his eyes now burned bright with predatory desire. Still standing behind Samuel, Erdo arched his neck and in one swift movement tore his razor teeth into Sam's throat, ripping it open and spraying us with blood. Erdo lingered for a moment holding us hostage with his stare. He released Sam, and his lifeless body thumped to the floor, his skin now a ghostly white. We stood stunned, eyes bulging in disbelief. A vampire had invaded our home and drained Samuel's blood.

James was the first to react. In a rage, he bolted at Erdo. With a flick of his wrist, Erdo sent him sailing backward, slamming his skull into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

"Run, girls!" I shouted as terror winged its way through me. Emily and Margaret fled the room screaming. I stood my ground to protect the girls.

"You must be Lily," he said slowly, articulating each letter in my name, his thick accent strange and unfamiliar. "Your picture hardly does you justice. You are far more beautiful in person than I imagined. Sam has told me so much about you and your little family. I must say, I have exercised considerable patience and self-control waiting for this evening. You all sounded so delicious. I knew you would be worth the wait."

My chest tightened as he spoke. Sam had paid the ultimate price for his kindness. Erdo had taken the life of the man I loved. How dare this demon come into our home and defile it when we offered nothing but compassion?

I struggled to breathe. The evil creature wanted to take my children—my girls. I would be strong for them. I would do whatever it took to stop him. With a step backward toward the fireplace, I edged away from Erdo, my quivering hand fumbling for the wood poker somewhere behind me. "Please don't hurt my girls. Do whatever you want with me, but I beg of you, please let them go," I implored, as my fingers found the weapon.

Erdo smiled kindly, suddenly appearing old and frail again. His shoulders rounded, and he slumped forward. "I have no intention of hurting your daughters," he said in a soothing voice as he inched closer to me. For a moment his frailty caught me off guard. How could I attack this old man? Surely, I must have been mistaken; this could not be the man who killed my husband. And then for an instant as I looked into his dark eyes, I saw the monster again. I swung the poker around and hit him squarely in the head, the force of the impact knocking the metal rod from my hands. Blood from a gaping hole above his left eye splattered across my hair and face. The sharp hook at the end of the tool had found its mark and dug deeply into his skull, revealing muscle and jagged white bone. Blood matted his hair and flowed freely from the gash.

Erdo erupted in laughter, all manner of meekness disappearing. "Now look what you've done. That wasn't nice. That's not very hospitable of you. But I like your spirit," he hissed.

I watched in horror as the skin around his wound began to rise and fall, lifting itself off the skull as if a rabid creature were trying to crawl its way free. Bone started to mend; sinews began to reconnect and muscles reformed. Living, boiling flesh creped and grew inward until the hole closed and sealed itself, leaving no visible sign of trauma.

Stepping behind a table, I tried to keep him engaged in the conversation. Every minute with me meant more time for my daughters to escape. "I'll do whatever you want, just, please, don't hurt my girls," I begged.

Moving with inhuman speed, he had me braced by the arms against the wall. I fought his steel hands as they dug into my skin, but I was no match for the monster. With his face close to mine, he smiled, and before my eyes, fangs descended from his mouth. He leaned into me, and I screamed when he bit into my neck. Held firm by his vice grip, I could not stop him as he drew from my vein. Warm, wet blood ran down my dress as he consumed the sanguine liquid with heinous delight. When glass exploded in the back of the house, he finally released me and headed toward the sound.

The girls were sobbing in the other room. "No!" shrieked Margaret, throwing a wooden stool at Erdo trying to protect her little sister as he advanced on her. With an easy sweep of his arm, Erdo deflected the flying object, smashing it to pieces.

I wanted to help them. I wanted to shout at him to leave them alone, to come back and take me, but no amount of willpower could overcome the paralyzing venom of the vampire.

In another attempt to save her sister, Margaret jumped onto Erdo's back. With a furious bellow, he tossed her off into the wardrobe, and she fell like a rag doll. Defenseless, Emily cowered on the floor crying.

"Come here my child. I won't hurt you," Erdo cooed.

My mind screamed in terror.

Emily continued to weep. "Hush, little one. Come to me," he said in a melodic voice.

Silence filled the air, dark and foreboding. Then Emily screamed, and my heart broke. With his teeth buried in her vein, she thrashed beneath him like a tiny animal caught in a snare.

Tears rolled down my face. I could not stop the beast as he fed on my child. Having his fill of Emily, he picked up the still unconscious Margaret and sank his teeth into her.

Returning to the living room, Erdo appeared to be thirty years younger. His hair had darkened to a rich dark red, and the wrinkles on his face had smoothed. He stood taller, more muscular. And he had Sam's emerald colored eyes. The creature had taken everything from my husband and defiled it. My heart felt like it might burst.

Erdo smiled when he realized I was watching. "We have some unfinished business," he said. Horror sucked the air from my chest and threatened to pull me under.

As Erdo stalked toward me, James rose to his feet. Grabbing the oil light from the table, James smashed it across Erdo's back, setting him on fire.

Erdo screamed as flames licked his skin and melted his flesh. Dropping to the ground, he rolled back and forth to smother the blaze.

Seizing the opportunity, James ran to the bedroom to find another lamp. When he returned—it was too late. Erdo had extinguished the flames. He stood in the middle of the room covered in blisters and charred skin, his hands fisted at his sides, waiting for him.

The vampire attacked James, crossing the room in a single leap, knocking him down. The two fought, rolling across the floor, pushing furniture back until Erdo managed to gain control. Shackling him in his mighty hands, Erdo sat astride Ethan's thighs. The snarling, fanged beast lifted his head and gave a thunderous growl. The next moment was a blur as the vampire savagely tore into my son's neck.