The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (45 page)

Augere quickly glanced away. “Must I decide at this very moment?” he asked with evident exasperation.

James stepped in closer then and hugged him, tightly, for several long moments without saying a word.

Then he said to him quietly, “This never really gets any easier does it?”

“No,” Augere replied, his voice just above a whisper.

Chapter 21

Minnesota

Jason’s family gathered around him, fussing over him, everyone all at once. They had been about to sit down to dinner and he was ushered into the kitchen where a hot plate of food was soon set down in front of him.

Each of his four family members barraged him with their own questions, all at the same time: “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? I got your postcards—is the water in Venice dirty or does it just look that way? What did you bring me? How’s the job going, Jason? Yeah, what about that mysterious boss of yours? Were the French nice to you? When can we see your photos? What exactly do you do on your job? Hey, when can I come to Boston to visit? Tell us all about London—what did you see and do? Yeah, tell us—everything!”

Finally, his mom had to step in as she was pouring him a tall glass of ice tea without asking what he preferred: “Okay, okay, come on, you guys—give him a break. He just got in the door.” She loaded more roast pork and mashed potatoes onto his plate, though he’d barely touched what was already there. “Oh! Did you bring me something from Harrods?” She paused to ask him excitedly.

He stared at her for several moments with a pained expression. Her question seemed utterly surreal to him. “I guess…I should have,” he said to her meekly.

“Oh, that’s okay.” she said, trying to hide her very obvious disappointment. “How long can you stay, Jason?” she asked then, gently smoothing his thick spiky uncombed hair as she stood over him.

He shrugged. “A while.” They were all so happy to see him. Happy for his success; his chance to travel to exotic places, like the wonderful trip he had just taken. No way could he just blurt out he had been, was still, in fear for his life. That he was now jobless and homeless. He was barely able to process that information yet himself. He was so tired right now. He just wanted to be alone, but he didn’t want to be either. He was grateful to have a place to just be right now, a place that felt safe for the moment, with people who cared about him. But he really did need some time to be alone.

Jason was hungry but found he could eat very little. Soon, the plates were cleared and his mother was making coffee. It was his family’s habit to linger over coffee, dessert, conversation. And gradually, the focus of the conversation turned away from him, briefly. The icy fear that had gripped him for the past twenty-four hours slowly began to thaw in the warmth of his family’s kitchen.

After the rest of the dishes were finally cleared and put in the dishwasher, his mom stated she would make up the sofa bed downstairs for him. He had long ago lost the other half of the room he had shared with his younger brother Evan. It had been taken over by more of Evan’s stuff. Jason didn’t mind. He would have privacy and quiet in the basement at least. His mom insisted that he sit and relax when he offered to help her ready the area downstairs. He sipped at the hot coffee, which soothed his spirit just then, and stared out at the window at swirling snowflakes.

He visited his sister Carrie’s room, walking around and taking a casual glance at all of her gothy stuff as they chatted. He was pretending everything was normal. And by pretending, he helped to convince himself of it, at least for a little while.

It had especially pleased him when Carrie had taken an interest in goth aesthetics, seemingly independent of any influence from him. Had it been only a few months since he had left his family, and the relative normalcy of his life? So much had happened. It seemed like living at home had been another lifetime.

His forced normal facade seemed to be working for him at the moment but just being here was more surreal than all he had just been through. And it wasn’t over yet…When Carrie received a phone call from a friend, he departed to give her privacy. He tried to watch TV with his mom and dad, but he was too tired to concentrate and too restless to sit still. Intrusive thoughts of the past forty-eight hours greatly disturbed him, and he realized he did not want to be alone yet. But he had to keep everything bottled inside when he was around his family. He lingered as long as he could, but by 10:30 he was able to plead jet lag and exhaustion from a long day’s travel and he headed downstairs to try to sleep.

The finished basement wasn’t too bad really. He had his own bathroom and shower there, as well as his own TV. The sofa bed was fairly comfortable, the entire area rather cozy. And there was a second sofa bed, now being used just as a couch, and an end table with one lamp and a coffee table.
Not nearly as nice as my own place,
he thought, and then caught himself. He didn’t have a place anymore. He suddenly felt close to tears as he undressed and climbed into the warmth of several blankets and a big heavy comforter. He was almost instantly asleep.

He awoke early the next morning, to the long forgotten sounds of his family rushing to get themselves ready and out the door for the day. He pretended to still be asleep when he heard his mom creep part way down the stairs and softly call his name. Finally, the house was quiet again, and he went upstairs.

His mom had left breakfast for him, waiting to be reheated, and there was still a half a pot of warm coffee. He made toast and ate breakfast and lingered over more coffee. He stared out the window; it was snowing again. He took a shower and then unpacked his clothes and did some laundry. He felt ready to crawl back into bed now. He took some generic pain medication he found in the upstairs bathroom, having a general feeling of malaise, and then slept again for a while.

He awoke around two hours later. It was still snowing. Not that he intended to try to go anywhere. He was fearful of being outside. Especially of being followed or stalked. He was nervous enough just being alone in the house. But if he was alone when they came, whoever they were, at least it would just be him and not his whole family who suffered the consequences.

He made himself some hot tea, and crawled back in bed with the cup at his bedside. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but why was he still alive?
Now there’s a waking thought you don’t have every day
. He puzzled over this until it came to him. The Geniers could not risk being the last people to see him alive. Of course. That made sense. To protect their reputation, they had to be able to say he was still alive the last time any of them saw him. They had to make a show of getting him home safe. And now that man Nick, whom Jason figured must have been hired to kill him, knew where he lived. Jason sat upright on the sofa bed. The man was probably studying his family’s routine: how many there were; when they left and returned. Jason felt sick to his stomach.
Would they really plan to kill all of us?
Mask the intended crime with a supposed home invasion gone wrong. His family would be collateral damage. That was even more horrible. What had he done? He had led them directly to his family. Not that they wouldn’t have found them anyway. But his family was as innocent as he was.

Jason got up and got dressed. He parted the window curtains cautiously, discreetly peering out to see any suspicious cars outside. There weren’t any as far as he could tell.

He did not want to die. But he’d rather they killed just him, right now, than have his family suffer the same fate with him later.

There was no one he could really turn to for help. Whether he told anyone or not, they were going to kill him anyway. And who could he tell? He had no proof. He wondered if he could hide somewhere. Maybe leave the country. But they might come after his family then, to retaliate, or to force him out of hiding. The situation looked more and more hopeless.

His hands were shaking now. He could barely hold the coffee mug. Random thoughts troubled him and his mind raced from one thing to another. The Geniers had known all along. And they had not told him. He had been in danger, every day. And they acted so calm about it. As if it was nothing! Allowing him to be with someone so dangerous…why would they do that to him? It seemed an insane, reckless, crazy and cruel thing to do to someone. Damn them! And
him
. How could they do this to him? They should not be allowed to get away with this! As if his life meant nothing! Did they all think they could just keep up this charade indefinitely? He had to get up and pace now. He was too restless and too nervous, too angry and upset to sit still.

He made some more tea and sat in the kitchen, drinking out of his favorite “Brewed Awakening” cup and staring out the window.
I have to do something. I have to come up with a plan. I can’t just sit here and wait for them to come for me
. He should call his bank in Boston and see about transferring large amounts of funds. He would need money to live on. While he found a job…
or more likely, if I have to be a fugitive,
he thought.
If I live
. The bank informed him it would take several days to process his request.

Carrie was the first to arrive home, and then his brother Evan. He chatted with both, still trying to appear as normal as he could, for their sakes as well as his own. He fought a rising panic almost constantly.

He talked to his mom and helped her in the kitchen while she started to get dinner ready. There were still leftovers from Thanksgiving. He was looking forward to having those. He tried to keep up with the conversation, hearing only bits and pieces over dinner, feeling too distracted. He glanced up at one point to see Carrie staring at him with a worried expression. He managed a weak, insincere smile. Her expression let him know she wasn’t buying his “I’m okay” look.

“So, Evan, how is your job going?” Jason asked; it was not lost on him that Evan’s job might have disqualified—and spared him—this nightmare he was now part of.

“It’s just okay.” He shrugged. “I’ve been thinking seriously of getting out of this field altogether. Taking classes now for computer science. The whole psychiatric inpatient system is just a huge fail on every level. Too many things are very wrong there. And very depressing.”

At least you have a job,
Jason thought, nodding.

“I know it sounds cynical, but I don’t believe I have helped anyone in the past three years I’ve worked there. Nor has the system. Actually, though, the job is at least somewhat interesting at times.” Evan ate some of his mashed potatoes, then took a sip of a Coke. “Like the guy they brought in last night: early twenties; no psychiatric history; comes in with his clothes torn, scratches on his face, legs, arms. He was found running through the woods—actually, he had run out of the woods into a road and almost got hit by a car.

“He had no recollection of how he got there. Rambling somewhat incoherently. Tested negative for any substances, legal or otherwise. When they asked what he was doing out there, in the middle of nowhere, he said he was ‘running through the woods with vampires’! Can you imagine that? Totally psychotic.”

Jason glanced at the faces of each of his family in turn. Clearly from their expressions they were having difficulty imagining such a thing. Jason, on the other hand, found he had no difficulty picturing any of that at all.

“I thought maybe you were going to say it was an alien abduction,” Carrie said with some disappointment. “At least that would be believable.”

“Well, enough crazy talk,” their mom said. “Does anyone want pie? I have pumpkin or apple.”

After the dessert dishes were cleared, Jason had more coffee and lingered in the warm kitchen with his mother for a while. Suddenly, she paused and looked steadily into his eyes for a few moments. She asked him if he was okay. He had been feigning normalcy since he had returned home. He was afraid the façade might be about to crack. He didn’t want that to happen. “I’m okay,” he lied to her, nodding. He felt dangerously close to tears.

Impulsively she hugged him tightly. “You better be okay.” She said it with much more intensity than she might have usually. “I worry about you.” She smoothed down his thick, softly spiked hair, just as she had often done ever since he had started wearing it that way. It had become a gesture of affection between them now. Her way of trying to keep him the way he was; keep him safe and the same as she knew him, unchanged and unharmed by the outside world. He felt a little too emotional suddenly and had to excuse himself to go up to Carrie’s room. Evan had gone out to a movie with friends, and his dad was dozing on the couch with the TV on.

He knocked on Carrie’s door and the music from within lowered perceptibly. “Buzz yourself in,” she called out. Even in his distracted state he didn’t fall for it, and came right in. She laughed. “I usually have someone standing out there for a while, looking for the buzzer. It buys me some time in case I have to get decent.”

“Good one.” He crossed his arms and gave her a stern look. “They are going to yank your goth card for listening to THAT,” he stated, affectionately critical of her musical choice. He could hear a twangy guitar riff from the headphones resting around her neck.

“Don’t you dare tell! I only listen to this in secret.” Carrie, just turned sixteen, going on thirty, was his sibling soul mate—his gothling companion, and he was proud of her. She sat cross legged on the bed now, surrounded by CDs, magazines, clothes, a few gothic collectible dolls and other gothic paraphernalia. She totally looked the part of goth kid with her nearly black hair in a longish shag and blue streaks that framed her face, black smoky eyes and black fingernails. She wore the color black like she totally owned it, and even with a half dozen dark themed bracelets on each wrist she still managed to make her look seem unique.

They totally got each other. They secretly joked that the weirdness gene had skipped Evan, who absolutely did not get either of them. Jason loved having an ally on the dark side. She was sweet, creative, highly intelligent, funny, and given to extremes of emotion. Their dad had nicknamed her “ferret” for her ability to find or figure out anything she was not supposed to. “You would not want someone with her perseverance and tenacity, say, working in the IRS going over your tax return, or working with the FBI to find you,” Dad said. No secret, no surprise could be kept from her for long. Sometimes it even scared him a little, the level of her dedication and perseverance once she set her mind to something.