The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (56 page)

Jason was spent. An empty vessel that had survived turbulent winds and endured high seas and was now just drifting. He could not begin to think what his next words or his next move might be.

Augere regarded him silently for what seemed like a very long and uncomfortable interval. After only a few moments under that stare, Jason had difficulty meeting the intense gaze and he had to lower his eyes.

Augere took several steps closer bridging some of the gap between them.

“Where are the keys to the house?” He asked tonelessly, his expression inscrutable.

Jason looked up quickly. It took several moments for the meaning of the words to have an impact on him.
Oh no. NO! Please…no. That must be why he is here right now. He needs to get the keys away from me. All of my things are probably gone from the house by now. There is no reason for me to go there ever again. All that remains now is to get my house keys from me and then they will be done with me forever
. And suddenly, the thought of that was too unbearable.

“Please…I…” Jason heard the pleading tone in his voice and he stopped.
Don’t,
he urged himself.
Don’t do this
. He quickly tried to compose himself and then began again.

“I don’t know where they are. I have looked everywhere. I honestly do not have them. I don’t even know where I might have lost them.” He heard weakness and tremulousness in his voice. Heard himself defeated in the words. There was nothing left now.

Augere remained expressionless as if impassively removed from the situation.

Jason had not really thought this far ahead: just what would he actually say to Augere when—if—he ever did see him again. He knew only what he had wanted and needed to say.

In the recesses of his mind, in his imagination, Jason assumed his voice would be surprisingly calm and steady, even considering the strong emotions he was feeling, when and if he encountered Augere. Now it seemed he had said all he wanted to say. But it felt like more needed to be said. Things submerged, not so deeply, in his subconscious pleaded to be heard. The depth of his feelings, and the sincerity of the unspoken words in his mind at that moment came as a shock to him.

The words to express those feelings were unrehearsed, as yet unformed and unready to be spoken. What might have held those words back was not the fear of a continued existence with Augere, even if that had been an option. Some part of his mind had already accepted that in such a co-existence fear would always be present, a part of his daily life.

It wasn’t denial of his present circumstances that kept his words silent. He had been given alternatives and he had made a choice; true, one made under extreme duress. But he himself had made that decision to be permanently released from his job, a decision he still erroneously believed was totally his own. He was done. His resignation papers were in effect, with or without his signature. A new assistant had probably already been interviewed, or soon would be.

He had allowed himself to believe that once he uttered the words he had come to say, his conscience would be clear. He had come seeking nothing else. But then…after all he had just said…after all he had been through…was there to be
nothing
else? Just this cold finality and the forever parting of ways?

Jason’s perception of Augere’s coldly dispassionate tone, in asking about the keys, had triggered an emotional response that pushed past fear, self-preservation or common sense; past pride, and past the facts as he knew them. He had not intended to ask for his job back; he scarcely felt he had the right to do so. Just because he mourned the loss of that job and the lifestyle he had become so accustomed to
—why would they would allow me to change my mind?

But in the next moment, it all came down to what truly mattered the most to him—which was being part of the vampire’s existence, for good or bad. It was what he wanted now, more than anything else he had ever wanted in his life. A decision as impulsively made as the decision to leave had been. But it was not just clearly the
right
choice for him: it was the only choice.

So, in just those few moments, the words he quickly considered and
meant
to say were:

“It was not my intention to stop working for you. That was not at all what I really wanted. As I explained, I only wanted to leave because I thought I was in danger of being killed for finding out the truth.” These words were woefully inadequate to express the true depth of all he was feeling, though they would have preserved his pride and integrity; words that could indicate he still meant to stand by his choice and accept the hand dealt to him if that was still to be.

Instead the words he impulsively uttered to Augere, much to his surprise and horror, though still with the full knowledge he meant them just as sincerely as the alternative he could have said, were these:

“Please… I would rather you kill me right here and now than force me to live with my decision to leave.”

Augere blinked twice then gazed at him intently for several moments. He moved several steps closer then, coming to within three feet of him, his face a stoic mask. Augere slowly turned his head, his gaze leisurely sweeping first one side of the room and then the other, taking in the sight of the few scattered patrons. “Right here?” he asked softly. A brief pause then as he turned his head to look at Jason again. “Right now?”

Jason numbly perceived but was barely able to grasp the hint of amusement then in the dark grey eyes.

“Yes.” Jason nodded. “Well…I guess you would have to take me out to an alley…or someplace else.” Jason’s reply was delivered with solemn sincerity.

Augere bit at his lower lip just briefly to keep from laughing as he lowered his gaze. When he glanced up to look at Jason again, his face was somberly composed.

He reached into the inner pocket of his long black velvet jacket and withdrew a set of keys attached to a thin strip of black leather. As he was removing one key from the ring, he asked “Do you need money?”

Money. What money
…? Jason was unable to make a coherent reply. He was not quite able to process information accurately just now.

Augere handed him the key. Jason mutely accepted it. He was not at all sure what was happening.

Suddenly Augere leaned in toward him and pressed against his chest, his arms encircling Jason in a very quick and awkward embrace. Or rather, his velvet jacket did. All Jason could feel, to his stunned surprise, was the light weight of the fabric, as though the jacket held no contents. It startled him but he did not react. Augere withdrew quickly, just as Jason began to feel lightheaded and a little faint.

“You appear too distraught to travel. I recommend you wait until the day after tomorrow. I have some things to attend to here. I will see you in Boston on Monday.”

Augere turned away, and was then facing the door when he paused and looked back at Jason, who stood rooted to the spot, holding the key in his hand, barely having had a glance at it, too reluctant to take his eyes off Augere.

“And stay away from the Ursulines Convent. Is that understood?”

Jason took a few moments to respond. He shrugged one shoulder and then slowly nodded. In the next moment, Augere was gone. Jason never even saw him approach the door though his eyes lingered on him. Augere was standing there one moment and he had completely vanished the next. Simply gone.

Jason remained standing and staring at the now empty spot where Augere had stood. Finally, he shook his head as if trying to clear fog from his brain and then he sat down again at the bar. He picked up his glass with a shaky hand and finished the rest of his brandy in one gulp.

“Did you happen to notice,” Jason asked the approaching bartender, who had been well out of earshot until just now, “any of what just went on here?”

The bartender did not make eye contact as he stacked clean glasses under the bar. “Nope. And even if I did, I’ve lived here long enough—I’ve seen enough sh—stuff—to know that what happens in New Orleans, stays in New Orleans. Hereabouts, we’re just as likely to take up a drink and say ‘well, how ‘bout that,’ and go on with our business.” He paused then and gave Jason a quick glance. “I have absolutely no idea what might have just happened here, but”—he poured another shot of Napoleon Brandy and placed it in front of Jason—“this one is on the house.”

Chapter 23

Muriel Revelations

Jason emerged from within the dim light of the Maspero and stood on the corner of Chartres Street, blinking in the sunlight. The world around him looked pretty much as he had seen it just a short time ago. Nothing seemed to have dramatically changed at all. But clearly the person who had just exited the Maspero was quite different from the person who had entered. In just a few minutes his life had changed dramatically once again.

Walking in a daze, he arrived at his hotel with no clear recollection of the mechanics of how he had gotten there, but he was grateful as he walked into the lobby. The clock there said 3:00 p.m.. He felt incredibly tired suddenly and wanted nothing more than to not have to think about, or do, or feel anything, but just to lie down and rest, as if he had put off such a thing for far too long now and having no other purpose at present, wanted nothing in the world so much as sleep. On impulse he bought two 20-ounce sodas from a vending machine on his floor and had finished drinking one of them by the time he walked the short distance to his room. He opened the second soda and drank some of the contents before crawling into his bed, more exhausted than he could ever remember being in his life.

His last thought before he drifted off to sleep:
Ten minutes. Or less. He just showed up, out of nowhere. How did he even find me? I probably saw him for no more than ten minutes, and once again my life has completely changed
.

He slept deeply and peacefully for several hours.

In his dream, bells rang somewhere in the distance, incessantly; they seemed important somehow. But other things needed his attention. Something he was searching for; he could not stop for the bells right now. He was drawn to their sound but he began to feel a sense of panic.
I have to keep looking! I can’t stop now! I have to do this
. He wanted the bells to stop, to leave him alone. His task, which he could not define, was urgent but the bells kept pulling him away. He began to struggle toward wakefulness, away from the conflict in his dream, and began to realize the phone in his room was ringing. He stared at it for a few moments, not nearly awake yet.
Who would be calling? Who knows where I am?

“Hello?” he asked in a tentative, sleepy voice.

“Jason? It’s James Genier. I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“No…” he replied hesitantly. It was such a surprise though. Why was Genier calling him? He felt groggy. Had he finally heard from Augere? Was he finally going to get to talk to him? Jason sat up, confused, disoriented, caught between sleep and wakefulness. He felt uneasy, a little nauseated, and he had a vague sense of panic. His head throbbed and he was not yet feeling rested.

“Jason…?”

“Uhmm…yeah…can you hold on a sec?”

Jason looked all around him. The room was dark; just barely a faint amount of light peeked in from outside through a narrow space in the heavy curtains. The bedside clock said 6:18. He switched on the lamp. It took him a few moments to realize he was in his hotel. He was slow and uncertain, staring and blinking, still dazed by the strange dream, now more real to him than his surroundings.

He took a long drink of the warm soda that sat opened on the bedside table. He sat blinking and trying to clear his head for a few more moments.

Then he jumped up suddenly and began searching through his pockets while scanning the bedside table, the bed, and the floor around him. Finding nothing, he searched among the pillows, the bed linens, then the floor again, and then under the bed, and then his pockets again. Nothing. There was nothing.

No key. No Augere. His mind became anguished as he slowly realized he must have dreamt the whole thing. It had seemed so real. How devastatingly cruel this was. The disappointment was crushing.
I wanted it so badly I created it in my dream
. He could hear Genier’s voice calling his name through the phone receiver.
Genier…?
Why was Genier calling him? Jason really did not want to know now. It could not possibly be anything he would want to hear. He wanted to sink back into the pillows and back into darkness.

He mechanically picked up the receiver again. “Yes,” he said in a dull voice. He felt numb. It was a huge effort just to speak.

“Jason?…Jason, are you okay?”

“I…just…” he sighed heavily, holding the receiver in one hand as he massaged his forehead and then rubbed his eyes with the other hand. He felt close to tears of despair as he was being pulled downward to some dark depth. When he opened his eyes again, he caught just the glint of something metallic in the carpet halfway across the room. He dropped the phone receiver to lunge for it and picked up a small metal object, staring at it in disbelief.

“Hello! Yes, Mr. Genier! I’m okay,” he said into the retrieved phone. “I was sleeping. I was just having a hard time waking up. My sanity has been challenged a lot lately and I feel like I have had a loose grip on reality at times.” He paused to examine the key again. “But it’s okay. I have hold of it now.” He gripped the key tightly in his free hand. Solid. Real. Augere’s personal key to the house in Boston.

“Oh…kay. Good,” Genier replied doubtfully. “I’m calling because I received an unusual phone call from Mr. Augere. He did return my call finally but I only got to speak to him about two hours ago. He caught me as I was leaving the office. He mentioned he had some business and accounting things he wanted me to take care of. And then…when I asked him if he had gotten my messages that you wanted to speak to him…he casually mentioned you were coming back to work on Monday. He said I needed to process your paperwork. Well, I was a little stunned, to say the least. And then he asked me if I would check on you; he told me where you were—when did you arrive in New Orleans? I had absolutely no idea you were here…”