The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (22 page)

“I am quite sure it is.” Augere replied without glancing up from his French newspaper. Jason thought he detected an almost wistful tone in his voice.

They still had time until they had to be at the airport. Augere said he was going to take a taxi and visit a few places in town. Jason wanted to ask to be taken along, and was still trying to get up the courage to be bold enough to ask, when Augere invited him. He gladly accepted. They decided to check out of the hotel then and load their belongings into the cab. That way Augere could visit the places he wanted to see and then they could go directly to the airport.

The taxi drove them around to several different areas, and Jason saw more in that brief time than he would have imagined, or could have done wandering on his own. The old part of Montreal; cathedrals; the different neighborhoods, the stores and shopping areas. They stopped on a quiet street just off of St. Catherine, a residential area of what looked like one family houses. Augere spoke to the driver in French and then repeated in English an address where he wanted to stop: this was at a tall, narrow grey stone building. Lights were on and Jason thought perhaps Augere was going to get out to visit someone. But he just sat for a while, looking at the house.

“I used to live here,” Augere stated, as if knowing Jason was curious. “I owned this house during…” but then he shook his head and he did not finish his sentence. Jason was left wondering what he had been about to say. Could it have been the house he had grown up in? No, that seemed doubtful somehow. And he was from France, not Canada. It was hard to tell from Augere’s expression whether the place held good memories or bad. And how could it have been a childhood home, if he had grown up in France? From there, the taxi took them on to the airport. Along the way, Jason wondered when could Augere have owned that property? Could it be maybe Augere is a little older than he looks? Jason thought. He stole a glance at him. Then he shook his head. No. No way.
He can’t be much older than me; in fact I still suspect he could even be younger
. Every time he thought he figured something out, the mystery of Augere only deepened.

“I think Montreal has become one of my new favorite places,” Jason told him. “I hope to be able to return here.”

Augere gave him a quick glance and a nod. He was quiet and seemed preoccupied during the return trip.

Chapter 11

Savannah

They arrived in Boston by late afternoon and took a taxi from the airport. Jason unloaded their bags from the trunk and placed them on the curb while Augere paid the driver.

Moments later Jason was suddenly attacked by a white ball of fur. It encircled his legs, trailing a leash, nearly tripping him. Jason bent down to the small creature. There had to be a face in the mass of hair somewhere because a tongue had emerged and was furiously licking his hands. Augere hadn’t noticed the incident, or if he had, he did not linger but took his bags into the house.

Jason looked up to see a young woman running toward him.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she gasped. “She just got away from me! Honestly, it’s like having a wild mongoose on a leash.” Both she and Jason laughed. The dog continued jumping wildly, wagging its entire body and licking Jason’s face with a great deal of exuberance as he bent over the small creature.

“Oh, I’m sorry! She does that to everyone! I’ve never seen a friendlier dog, honestly. And she’s fearless—just runs up to anyone or anything and tackles them!”

Jason laughed. “It’s okay really—I like dogs. I’m not quite sure this really is a dog though.” He was petting the squirming animal and he laughed again. “It seems to be mostly fur. What kind is it?”

“A peke-a-something or other. She’s not mine. I’m just walking her for a friend in the neighborhood, while she’s out of town. That’s why I got so nervous when she ran off. If something ever happened to her, Seraphine would be beside herself.”

“Seraphine? Westenra?” Jason asked, rising to his feet, and handing the end of the leash to the woman.

“Yes! You know her?”

“We’ve met. So you’re dog sitting for Seraphine.”

“Yes. She and her husband just left for Montreal.”

“Wow, really. We just returned from there. It was my first visit.”

“It’s a great city, isn’t it?”

Jason nodded. “I definitely want to go back, and soon. We saw a fantastic art exhibit there.”

“Not the Waterhouse?! That’s where Seraphine and Charles are going too!”

“I think they’ll just love—”

They were interrupted by the small furry creature’s sudden loud whimpering and whining, as if it was hurt. The little dog was crouched against the woman’s legs, trying to squeeze between her ankles as if to hide there.

Jason and the woman stared in surprise, trying to determine the cause of the animal’s distress. They could see no immediate reason. Then Jason noticed the woman gazing past him and he turned to see Augere standing about ten feet away. He must have come back to retrieve Jason, seeing he had not yet entered the house. Augere made no eye contact with Jason or the young woman.

“Well, I better get going. I’ve got to unpack…and do laundry,” Jason said.

The woman nodded. The dog continued a loud frightened whimpering, and was now pulling against the leash, in the opposite direction of all of them.

Augere had already turned and was entering the house, with Jason close behind. Jason turned before he closed the door, and he and the woman both glanced at the dog and then shrugged at each other.

Jason resumed his classes on Monday, and brought home more class material to go over with Augere. Things were going smoothly, with Augere asking questions about the films; they watched several more of the films from the class together.

Augere informed him one afternoon they would be traveling to Savannah, in two weeks’ time, at the end of September. He told Jason they would be traveling by train round trip and he suggested Jason locate a hotel in the historic district, preferably not far from Forsythe Park. He further instructed him Genier did not need to be bothered, nor even informed of any of these travel arrangements. It had been Jason’s understanding Genier should always be notified and have approval of any planned travel. But he said nothing. He would do as he was instructed to do. Not a big deal.

This time he did research ahead of time. There were haunted places in Savannah. Enough to make it worthwhile to bring his ghost hunting equipment. He hoped to be able to visit some of those places; in fact there would be a lot to see and do. History, haunted locations, old southern charm; just the kind of stuff he liked.

Then he realized Savannah was probably going to be very hot and humid still. That was not good; he was no fan of hot weather. It sapped his energy and he never felt well in extreme heat. And then there was the train trip. It was going to take twenty-two hours just to get there, twenty-two hours back. Why on earth didn’t they just fly? They could get there fast and spend more time there. It made no sense to him, but Augere’s preference was not his to question.
Hey, at least I am going to see Savannah. I already feel like this is going to be a great experience
.

Augere had requested two seats to be reserved for himself, and Jason was already used to the idea Augere of needing his personal space.
I should have brought more books to read,
Jason thought, once they were on the train. He could have brought his laptop or a DVD player, if he had known there would be power outlets on board.
I could be watching movies at least
. Maybe he should acquire new gadgets for future travel; but then there was the practical aspect of not having to lug a lot of stuff around when traveling.

He tried sleeping on the train, alternating with watching the scenery. That worked for a while but he reached a point where he was too restless and did not want to be on the train anymore. Finally, thankfully, they arrived. It seemed to have taken forever.

They arrived late at night. No time for any ghost hunt. Not even knowing where he might find something healthy to eat, Jason ended up going to bed hungry after a shower.

He was still tired, but got up to have a large southern breakfast the next morning. His scratchy throat was soothed by cold orange juice. He felt fine by the time he met Augere in the hotel lobby.

Augere stated they would walk to their destination. It was just a few blocks, he said.

The few blocks were more like twelve blocks, and the air was hot, humid. They finally arrived at a stately, three-story house in the historic district on a street with many beautiful homes just like it. But unlike the other homes on Jones Street, this one stood apart with no other homes really close to it.

It was a beautiful house, stunning really, and looked freshly painted in a light grey that complemented the Savannah grey brick that made up part of the structure. Black shutters and white trim decorated tall arched windows. A gracefully curved black iron railing led the way up a staircase to an entrance doorway on what would be the second floor. The house had a lower entrance, at pavement level, that was closed off with an elegant black ornate iron gate in an arched doorway. Both entrances were heavily padlocked. Jason was surprised to see a gas lamp hanging over the upper door, lit in the daylight, on this hot day.

Jason remained standing at pavement level, as Augere climbed the stairs and removed keys from his pocket. He took a few steps forward and noticed the narrow walkway, also gated and heavily padlocked, along the side of the house that appeared, from what he could see, to lead to an enclosed courtyard along the side and to the rear of the house. At least three quarters of the perimeter of the structure was guarded by a six foot stone wall.

Augere had the door open now and motioned for Jason to follow him into the house.

Jason took a few tentative steps into what looked, in the very dim light, to be the entrance to a small parlor. He blinked several times in the darkness waiting patiently for Augere to turn on some lights, or for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. Neither happened. And Augere had now disappeared.

Jason advanced slowly, reluctantly closing the door behind him. He reached the entrance to what might have been a large parlor or perhaps a dining room. The space was so dark it was hard to tell, and he saw and felt a choking dust all around him. The still air was instantly stifling, much hotter than outside. He stood in the double door entrance way of this room, trying to take the measure of it, but even determining the size of the room was impossible in the dim light.

Three large windows faced out to the street, but these were completely covered by heavy dark drapes. Augere was at these windows now, and pulled the curtains back, slightly, to let in more light. This did nothing to illuminate the room, however, though the sun was quite bright outside. If anything, the glare made the appearance of the room even worse.

The room was not only too hot and close, it had a pervasive stale, musty odor. If ancient had a smell, Jason thought, it was present here.

Jason tried to take in more of his surroundings.

Dust covered everything, everywhere he looked, from what he little he could see. Just walking into the room had raised clouds of dust that made it harder to take in the view. He could begin to make out small details now. Furniture: possibly expensive antiques, placed randomly around the room. Some of the pieces were covered, almost hastily, while other pieces were not. Several chairs were positioned around a long dining table; Jason would have loved to sit down, but there was no way to avoid being covered in dust. Huge cobwebs filled corners like intricate cities. He peered closely at the dining table, where dishes were still laid out as if for a meal. A meal not served in this century, he would have bet. Jason had never seen dust with its own dust before: he peered at lighter grey layered on top of darker grey, on top of a blacker grey. Jason suppressed nervous laughter. Who could have lived here—Miss Havisham? The contrast of the outside of the house compared to the inside was shocking; he could hardly grasp the fact of it.

Augere made no comment, but stood completely still in what appeared to be the center of the room. He paid no attention to Jason, who still looked all around him, trying to come to an understanding of what was going on here. He would bet than no one had set foot in this house in seventy-five years, and quite possibly a good deal longer.

Augere seemed to be listening attentively while slowly gazing all around him. It spooked Jason. He doubted anyone else could be in the house. In what little light spilled across the floor he could see the footprints they themselves had made walking in. Augere began to walk slowly, making a wide circumference at a distance of about six feet, as he slowly circled Jason. Jason neither heard nor saw anything that could account for Augere’s focused attention. Was he listening for mice? Rats? He was becoming nervous about being there at all.

Once Augere had completed the circle he stopped. He stood as if waiting…for what? Jason was hot, weary, sweaty now and thirsty. The room was so stifling. It felt hard to breathe. He could only imagine the amount of dust he was breathing in. Perspiration trickled down his forehead. But he sensed he should say nothing, even if Augere’s unusual behavior hadn’t unnerved him.
Maybe I could tell him I’ll just wait outside, there on the verandah. Hot as it is, at least it would be in shade with air circulating around me. At least it would be away from the dark decay of this room and the choking clouds of dust
.

Augere continued to stand still, listening, waiting.

Jason sought to distract himself by glancing around again. The corners were so dark; impossible to see what might be there. But the room had a faded elegance. Even in their weathered state the pieces of furniture he dimly saw must have been beautiful once, since they retained some of their stateliness now. There had to be a sizable fortune here in neglected items. He wondered what treasures the other rooms held. And what was this place, exactly? Not Augere’s boyhood home, for sure. He could not have grown up here. What was this place to him?