Lines of sorrow etched her face as she continued, speaking in a monotone.
"He made us watch, three little girls aged seven, nine and ten, as he beat her and did other unspeakable things to her, over and over. And when he was finally done, and she lay broken on the floor, he turned to us and promised us the same when next he returned. And then he was gone."
"My father returned to find his adored wife near death, and he swore to kill Jack with his own hands. We were never in the same place for longer than a few months after that. He dragged his little family around Europe, and then Asia, hunting Jack. My mother healed physically, as all iron metabolisers do, but she withdrew into a cold, mute shell, and I was left to raise myself and my sisters as best I could. The only thing our father contributed was that he taught us how to fight vampires. He taught us how to incapacitate and kill them, and how to use swords and knives and crossbows. It was only after he died that I realised what an efficient killing machine he had been, and I wondered how he had achieved that remarkable level of expertise. I never did find out."
She paused again, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on her face as she continued.
"Jack reappeared one night as we all slept in a small rural inn in Russia. I was eighteen then, and had started metabolising iron two years before. I was strong, much stronger than I am now, but I was no match for Jack even then. He murdered my mother and my father and took Anne and Lizzy. I never saw them again. Sometimes I hope they're still alive, and sometimes I think it would be better for them if they had died that night."
She finished her narrative then, and stared down at her hands which were clasped together on the table, as if she was somehow ashamed of what had happened to her family, and of her heritage. I sensed that there was much that she had left unsaid, as images of what had happened that night flickered through her mind. I flinched slightly at the brutality of their encounter, and realised then that Oliver was not only aware of what had happened back then, but that he was a lot older than we had initially assumed. A lot older.
Marcus stood and went to stand behind her chair. He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his expression was hard.
"Jack will die soon, I promise you," he said, and for a second he looked like the vampire that he was.