The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (53 page)

Damn. I keep finding these great little places. I would love to just linger here the rest of the afternoon
. He was torn between just wanting to feel happy and normal again, and the compelling quest to find Augere.
I already made a choice,
he reminded himself.
And I really have to do this. I want to keep looking. I need to
.

He reluctantly stood to leave and took a last look around the room as he pulled money out of his pocket to leave a tip for his drink. When he looked up in the direction of the bar something in the mirror caught his eye. He stared for several moments but it was already gone. It may have been a trick of the light, but just for a second he swore he saw someone, a person who resembled Augere, in fact, reflected there in the mirror. Someone who had been standing a few feet behind him. But when he turned around quickly to look, there was no one. He shrugged it off.
Now I am imagining him in places he isn’t, just to be able to see him. Visual hallucinations. Great
, he thought, wryly.
Just what I need to make matters even worse
.

Out on the street again, he resumed scanning the faces of any males who even vaguely resembled Augere. He had learned to quickly look away, once he realized he was sending out the wrong signals to the guys he saw, with his open staring. Sometimes they responded to his apparent interest. It became awkward at times.

Maybe…
Jason thought, trying to bolster his flagging spirits,
a werewolf will find me this time. Offer me a job and take me back to his lair. Of course I would probably have to clean up after it…I can just imagine the hair everywhere…I guess you probably get used to the wet dog smell after a while…maybe. That is one thing I have noticed about working with vampires…very tidy. Not a lot of unpleasantness around the house. And no fleas or ticks, that’s for sure
.

Vampires. Plural. That thought was sobering. He had enough trouble believing in the real existence of just one. Never mind werewolves…or other vampires. It did not really occur to him there might be other very real supernatural beings. Other…vampires. And of course those portal things. He shuddered. Then experienced a fresh pang of regret.

More stuff he would never get to know now. Damn. Well, maybe it was better he did not know. Ignorance could be bliss.
Yeah
, he thought,
but it can also be bitterly disappointing
.

If Augere could exist, and those portal things too, who knew what else was out there? He had always had an open mind about such things. But now that he was confronted with this reality he knew what it meant to be careful what you wish for. And excited. What was worse than not ever seeing real proof of such things? Seeing these things and having them slip just out of reach to disappear and never be found again. Having access to something so amazing, so exciting and fascinating and then suddenly losing that connection and missing out on all of that. Another deep sigh.
Still, I would do it all again. Just to have that chance. To be the person who knows it is all quite real, and to be able to experience it firsthand
.

As evening fell he wandered in and out of several smoky blues clubs again, all of them competing for his attention with various types of blues echoing in the streets. But tonight was less about the music; his only interest was the faces in the crowd. And the features he was looking for were not to be found among the crowds this night.

Finally one club, from which emanated the husky sounds of a bluesy female voice with amazing piano accompaniment, singing and playing about love gone wrong, managed to pull him in and made him want to stay awhile. The words and music brought his own sadness to the surface as he tried to let go and release it. But his blues were not so easily shaken off.

Lately he was not as comfortable as he usually was with being alone. The thing to do now was to get really drunk and walk dark deserted streets alone. Maybe let a different fate take him. The thought was strangely tempting and the fact that, even momentarily, he entertained such an idea frightened him. That danger, and its possible consequences, was not something he would ever imagine seeking out. He was sinking even deeper into despair.

I am no closer to finding him than I was my first day here. I might as well be in Minnesota for all the good this is doing. It is going nowhere. What is the point? Augere is a ghost. One who will not ever let himself be found
.

He had the vampire tour to look forward to tonight. He hoped it would take his mind off all of the morbid and negative thoughts.

He arrived in front of St. Louis Cathedral at the appointed hour where a small group had already gathered for the same tour. He wandered away briefly while the tour leader waited for others to show. He paused outside of Muriel’s Restaurant at Jackson Square. He knew, by reputation, that this charming place—he could see the diners enjoying their meal amidst beautifully elegant surroundings—was haunted. Again he felt pulled to something that had nothing to do with Augere. Maybe he
should
just let it go now. Accept the inevitable. He was just putting his life on hold, hoping to be able to do something here he had no chance of making happen. No. He shook his head sadly.
I just can’t give up. I won’t. Maybe I will be able to come back here someday; have a nice meal at Muriel’s
.

But not now. Not this time. I have to keep trying. I feel compelled to do this
. He wandered back to the group. They were about to begin. He was looking forward to being with other people again for a while, even if they were strangers. The social isolation was beginning to wear on him.

Their tour guide was a petite woman who seemed quite knowledgeable and was rather entertaining. Along the tour, they stopped at a supposedly haunted bar. Jason took the opportunity to question the young woman and a young man who accompanied her on the tour, probably acting as a sort of backup guides perhaps, and, he guessed, maybe a provider of some protection.

“Where and what are the places most associated with vampires here?” he asked them. It was his real reason for taking this tour a second time.

“Well, we visit some movie locations you might recognize—”

“No, I mean actual places associated with real vampires. Places they would have connections to.”

The tour guides stared at him. “Well, we visit some locations associated with urban myth, superstition and folklore, but, well…you know, there aren’t any real vampires, so to speak.”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded, “I used to think that too. People say that about ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them. I have seen things that couldn’t or shouldn’t be, yet they are. A black and grey undulating smoky mist in my hotel room in San Diego, for example, that disappeared right into a mirror. I cannot explain that. But it was certainly real enough.” Jason paused and looked at the pair. “The Ursulines Convent?” he asked. “Any thoughts?”

“Well, I don’t have any firsthand knowledge,” the girl began, “but I know of guides who have a lot of experience doing these tours who have had some things happen that spooked them, relating to the Ursulines. But—vampires—no. No one can say that for a fact. We do make a stop there on this tour, however.”

The rest of the group, having had a drink and restroom break, were ready to move on now, but Jason wasn’t. As he waited in line for a drink in a go-cup, the rest of his group began moving on; he said he would catch up.

The group was still in sight as he emerged from the bar with his drink. They had stopped in front of a building Jason already knew the legends about. He would take his time and catch up. As he took a sip of his drink, something caught his eye in the dense shadows across the street. He stared for several moments. He was looking at a darker shadow, he thought, within the shadow of a doorway. Nothing ominous. Nothing as definite as a presence. Maybe a trick of the light; just a shadow. He stayed focused, watching intently. Something had moved in that doorway, but now there seemed to be nothing there. He turned his attention to his group, now in the next block; it was time to move on.

He walked slowly toward them, being careful not to spill his drink. They had just turned the corner, when he thought he felt the presence of someone close behind him. He turned around quickly, spilling a few drops: no one there. He stood peering into the shadows under a tree behind him. It felt like someone was right there but still he saw nothing. The streets were fairly well lit at regular intervals, and people passed by frequently. It felt safe enough. He shrugged and moved on toward the group. He had an overactive imagination tonight.

He paused as they listened to a story about the Carter Brothers. Quite possibly actual vampires… He found the story quite intriguing.
I will have to do some research on this
.

As the group moved on, he paused to set his drink down so he could take photos of the building mentioned by the guide. Something rustled briefly behind him. He paused thinking maybe someone just wanted to get past. But then no one was there. He was sure he had heard something. Then he needed to walk briskly to catch up to the others, but his drink slowed him down. He almost wanted to pitch it, but it was a local specialty and he was really enjoying it. Too good to waste.

There it was again. More of a feeling this time, rather than seeing or hearing anything. He paused and then slowly turned. He stared into the shadows for a long while. He could swear someone or something was there. He was sure of it. After a few moments he slowly resumed his pace.

In the next instant something rushed past, startling him. He took a quick look behind him and then a second later stared right in front of him. Something was messing with him. It wasn’t the wind, there was no breeze at all. But he saw nothing. As he resumed walking he strained to listen. He thought he heard footsteps, but as soon as he stopped, the sound stopped also. He couldn’t tell where the footsteps were coming from. He could see his tour group, about two blocks ahead of him now. He did not want to miss any more of the tour. And he was starting to feel a little freaked out but not fearful. He wanted to catch up to the others, hearing their laughter. He was missing interesting stuff, no doubt of it.

The footsteps again. Soft, but distinct. He quickly turned around. No one there. And no place for anyone to hide. There was still no sense of anything menacing. Just once again…a presence. Now he quickly drank down the last of his drink, and tossed the cup into a receptacle as he neared the group. Then, as he turned the corner where they had just passed, and while they were still in sight, he was sure he had seen a tall figure out of the corner of his eye. He felt more curious than fearful now. The group remained within sight. Except it seemed a smaller group. Was it even the same one? Other walking tours were out and about. He hurried to catch up. And still, he felt it: something was there, just behind him now. He turned suddenly to look again, peering into the dark recesses of doorways. Nothing.
It can’t all just be my imagination
. Now, just ahead he thought he recognized members of his group: the guy with the “Why so serious?” T-shirt; the girl with the ridiculously high heels for a walking tour. As he approached them finally, he took a quick glance in the direction from which he had come. He had a sense of something… right there. He trusted his senses. He continued to stand still, peering into the shadows, aware the group was moving on again. Still he stood and stared. He was definitely being followed. He strained his senses to try to detect any slight motion. Now he had the sense of being stared at. Quite distinctly. The group had gotten farther away again. But he could not take his attention from whatever it was. He was aware New Orleans was said to be quite haunted. It seemed he was having his own paranormal experience just now. As he stared he thought he could make out the outline of a figure. Indistinct in form, but clearly there was some sense of it being directly in his path.

And now he had lost the group again; he saw no sign of them at all. However, a few minutes later a group—his tour group—were walking toward him. From the direction of the Ursulines Convent.
Oh, no. Had they gone there already? Had he missed it? It couldn’t be. Damn it!

He fell in step with the group again, staying close to them now. “That was one of the best stories so far!” one woman was saying to her companion. “I know!” her friend agreed. “And what an unexpectedly creepy feeling for a convent to have, right?”

“Yeah. I want to check it out again in the daytime. We have to go back there tomorrow. Which shutter did she say it was again?”

Damn— he
had
missed it.
I’m on a tour that actually went to the Ursulines with knowledgeable guides who made comments about the legends surrounding it—and I still managed to miss it! How is that even possible?
He half thought of going back there on his own right now, but he had already missed the stories that went with it. Now he didn’t want to miss anything else. And he didn’t really want to be completely alone either. He preferred to have company right now, even if it was just strangers.

For another block or two, he continued to feel a kind of presence nearby, but each time he turned quickly to look there was the sense of movement just missed. Just a second too late to catch whatever it was. Jason decided to ignore it. And then, just as the tour was about to end, whatever it was—it was just gone. Jason could not rule out that it was all just his imagination, or that at least some of it might have been.

Several people lingered with questions for the guides at the end of the tour and Jason got to hear a few of the interesting details he had missed. But not nearly enough.

Damn. After doing this vampire tour twice now, I still do not have any information I could use, and I still managed to miss hearing the myths about the Ursulines Convent
. If there were vampires here, he would never know. It was nearly 10 p.m. and though he felt very tired already, he decided to sit near Jackson Square, hoping once more to find what he needed among the strangers passing by.

He had to change his location several times, too restless to stay in one place for too long. By 11:30 he began slowly walking back to his hotel.