The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (63 page)

BOOK: The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1)
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“There was a bit more to the conversation.” The stranger interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh…yes—what else did he say?”

“I said to him, ‘Maybe you should find out for certain what the assistant’s reason was, what he was thinking exactly. Just to be absolutely clear about it. You could have Genier contact him perhaps. Or you could call him yourself, in Michigan.’ ‘Minnesota.’ he corrected me.

“‘Right. Minnesota. And just ask him outright. Then at least you will know beyond doubt what was going on in his mind and why he left.’

“‘He is not there.’

“‘Oh…is he in Boston then?’ I asked. Now I was confused.

“‘New Orleans.’

“‘What? Why is he there?”

“‘I can only guess.’

“‘Do you think maybe he is there to see you?’ I asked. There was silence again. ‘Why else would he be there?’ I asked him.

“‘Maybe he has a wooden stake he wants to deliver.’”

Jason’s nervous laugh was cut short by the other man’s silence.

“Actually, that did happen to him once.”

“What…?” Jason asked in shocked surprise.

“One of his former assistants drove a wooden stake through him.”

It was Jason’s turn to be silent for several long moments. “And somehow—obviously it didn’t kill him.”

“No. He is impervious to any harm. He cannot be destroyed. Not by any means.”

“But—a wooden stake…how was that even possible then?”

“Augere knew in advance what was being planned and he let him carry it out. Just to see if he would really do it, I suppose. And probably just so he could sit up afterwards and say ‘Well, this is awkward. Now what?’ Actually, it upset Augere quite a bit.”

Truly immortal,
Jason thought.
Impervious. To everything
. Just when he thought this could not get more unbelievable… he couldn’t get his mind around it.
But wasn’t that in the nature of being vampire? Being immortal?
Jason was still shocked at the fresh realization of it.

“Does he consider himself—non-human? I mean, I guess he would be if he is one of the undead—”

“Oh, hell—you haven’t said that to him, have you?”

“Nooo—I, no, well, no, but I was wondering. I didn’t know…”

“Physically he is much less human than he seems. Mentally and emotionally—I still find it hard to say. There seems to be a lack of remorse; a detachment and difficulty with human emotions. I suppose that could come from having had to kill as much as he has. He definitely views himself differently than us. And, whatever you do, do not think of him, or refer to him, as one of the undead. I can remember most of t
hat
conversation in detail.”

“What did he say?”

“I can’t recall the exact context in which it came up, but he was quite upset at the idea that a vampire is viewed as undead. ‘I am not undead!’ he told me. ‘I would have to have died first would I not? I have never died. I am more alive than you are. I am permanently alive!’”

“I am—I’m very glad…that you told me this. I had no idea of course. All of this—it’s so new to me—there is so much to get used to—I’m sorry—you were telling me about one of his assistants trying to kill him…did things like that happen often?”

“He has had a few horrid assistants. They did not all start out that way of course. Some of them, over time, became antagonistic towards him.”

“The people he chose? In what way though?”

“Well, the whole assistant thing was the Genier’s idea from the beginning; they were able, over time, to sell him on it. Originally, only members of the Genier family were placed as his assistants. At some point, and I’m not sure why, it was decided to bring in random strangers, carefully selected of course.”

Jason didn’t let on that Genier had told him this. He still needed to hear some of it again. “But it seems so risky—to let a stranger into his life like that…”

“Yes, it does…but isn’t that the basis of most relationships? Strangers come into our lives. At least he had an active part in selecting people. He liked exercising his preferences and having some measure of control.”

“It just seems like such a chance to take; especially since everything must remain such a secret.”

“There was more emotional risk than anything else, it seemed to me. Some of the fools mocked him and laughed at his awkwardness with the modern age: the way he speaks; his unawareness of current things. I have sometimes wondered if he has not been emotionally scarred by some of those experiences.”

“I am surprised he would even tolerate that. And even if they were initially ignorant of his true nature and his circumstances, you don’t bite the hand of your employer.”

“Especially if that employer bites back!” The stranger laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Did he ever retaliate against them—what happened to the man who used the wooden stake…”

“He ended up in an insane asylum. Mostly for his own protection, was what I heard. The rest of them…just aren’t around anymore.”

“Has he had many assistants? I mean, over the past—I don’t know how long—?”

“A fairly significant number, yes. We assistants are still a rather small and unique group of individuals though. I believe the current arrangement started in more modern times—the 1920s, I believe. As things got more advanced technologically he seemed to need others, besides the ever busy Geniers, to be of assistance in some things. He is probably one of the last of the luddites; he will never be completely modernized. He has voluntarily chosen long gaps apart from society: he goes into a kind of social hibernation, barely seeing or being in contact, even with the Geniers, for a decade at a time. When he does reemerge you can imagine all of the new technological advances he then has to catch up with. And he loathes that. It is very hard on him. Mostly, he regards technology as an evil necessity. But more than that—he is just trying to cope as best he can with the modern world.

“Anyway, as I was saying: I told him it hardly seemed likely the assistant—you that is—would come all that way with evil intent…‘he must have had other reason to try to find you,’ I said.”

“‘He wishes to speak to me.’ he said.

“‘Aren’t you the least curious what he has to say?’

“There was a long silent pause then. ‘Are you shrugging?’ I had to ask him.

“‘No. And yes.’

“‘Well, I think you should talk to him. Find out what he has to say at least. I would really want to know— especially why he came to New Orleans to find you.’”

“And—when was this?” Jason asked. “What day—when did you have this conversation?”

“This Thursday past, as I recall. It would have been around 5:00 a.m. or so here in London—we think nothing of calling each other at all hours—so—it probably would have been Thursday midmorning in New Orleans I think.”

“And I saw him Thursday afternoon! It seemed like he just happened to find me…but now I think it must have been you. You must have convinced him, and then he was able to find me somehow and let me have the chance to talk to him!”

“I merely gave him an opportunity to view the situation from a new perspective. It appears you did all the rest. You can take full credit for that.”

“No—I believe this happened because you know him so well. You knew what to say to him. You really made this possible.”

The stranger laughed. “There may well come a day you will resent me for it!”

“And I don’t even know your name. I’m sorry I was so suspicious. But all of this has just been so—”

“I know. I do know, believe me. My name is Terrance Richmond. Glad to make your acquaintance, Jason.”

“And very glad to make yours too. I have to tell you, when I heard someone had lasted twenty-five years I was amazed. That made me start to think this arrangement was still possible. But—how did you get involved with him? Did you know the truth from the beginning? Or when—how—did you find out the truth about him? I really would like to know.”

“Ah, yes. The beginning. I understand there is quite an elaborate set of criteria now. Back in my day, some bloke would nab you coming out of a pub, late at night: ‘Fancy a job as a live in assistant? Nice perks, clean work, good wages?’ Right, okay, sure. ‘Uh…vampire—bother you?’ No, not at all. Step up from what I’m used to.

Right, then. Start in the morn.’” Terrance’s mirthful laugh was deep and hearty. “Bit of an exaggeration, but not much,” he added as Jason joined in the laughter.

Terrance’s tone became serious. “He had bought a new house in London. Apparently he had been living in England a long time, but I knew nothing about that when I met him. I was just twenty-one, right out of university. We had been living in a rented flat, which he hated. He wanted to renovate the new house, but a builders strike was on that was lasting a long time. I had only just started working with him then and I had been his assistant for only about seven months when he decided to move house while the work he wanted completed was finally being done. He chose a hotel outside of London, near Hampton Court. It was a fair distance from the city, I do recall that; it was somewhat wild and isolated back then. At the time I could not understand why he had chosen to move us out there.

“I felt very unsettled working for him. It was kind of rocky at first. He was such a stranger. Someone you could not get to know. Mysterious and remote; withdrawn and emotionally distant. I supposed that was okay, up to a point. But I often wondered: what did he want with me, really? I had a lot of idle time; the money seemed too good to be true. I remember I didn’t feel well most of the time, mentally or physically. My nerves were bad; I’d jump at the slightest thing. And that was new for me. I was always expecting something bad, like a dark cloud was always hanging over me. I had every reason not to feel that way, yet I did, and I kept wondering what was wrong with me. Why couldn’t I just accept my good fortune and enjoy it? I kept having bad dreams; dark imaginings. I didn’t see him very much, but when I did he was pleasant enough. My personal discomfort seemed without reason.

“The hotel was in the countryside, as I said, and quite peaceful, and so I began to relax finally. We had private rooms, but there were adjoining doors, always kept locked. Ours were the only two rooms that faced an enclosed courtyard. The hotel was quite near a wild, wooded area. High hedges were all around on three sides of this courtyard. Spacious lawns and garden areas took up most of the inner space and a large patio terrace completed the enclosure. This terrace was separated from the hotel restaurant by glass doors that spanned the entire length of the patio. I remember all of it distinctly.

“Late one night—I remember there was a bright full moon that night—I was awakened by strange noises coming from outside. Loud banging and thumping sounds; it was terrible. I looked out my second floor window over the courtyard; it was dark, shadowy, the only illumination being the moonlight, and at first I could see nothing out of the ordinary. Then I noticed a large creature running about. A deer must have come in through the hedge and seemed unable to find its way back out. In panic and fear it must have kept running at the glass doors and injuring itself. Even in the scant light I could see large smears, which must have been blood, on the glass. I felt horrible for the poor creature and was about to call to the desk to see if anything could be done for it.

“Suddenly I saw a figure moving incredibly swift. It had hold of the deer a second later and with seemingly no effort, the deer was being held fast.

“No doubt he had heard the sounds as well. Or more likely he was already prowling the area. I surmised all of this later.

“There was moonlight enough to make out the two figures and I could scarcely believe what I was seeing: the shape of a man who had hold of the deer now.

He did not take the deer to the ground and then kneel to it—rather he lifted the large struggling animal up off of the ground and brought it to his mouth and stood there holding it as if it took no effort at all. His head was bent in towards the deer’s neck and I watched in disbelief and horror as the deer’s struggling body began to go limp. This all occurred as he faced the direction of my window, where I stood watching from the shadows. I could not clearly see his face, but somehow I knew it was him. Then I realized with greater horror he was looking exactly in my direction—he could see me! I had thought myself well hidden, but I felt his eyes upon me. The whole time he held the deer to him, and the short while it took for the deer to become lifeless, he had been looking at me. I was certain of it and I began to feel ill.

“Fear crept through my body but I could not turn away. He let the lifeless carcass drop to the ground and continued to gaze at me where I stood, frozen in horror. There—in that moment—all my questions and suspicions were answered. I was having a bad dream except I was fully awake. No doubt left to hide behind then.” Terrance paused.

“That seems pretty traumatic…and certainly there was nothing gradual about it. So had you suspected…? Was it all just a total shock? And what did you do then?” Jason asked, his voice eager. Terrance’s experience rivaled his own.

“I watched as he dragged the dead creature out through the hedge. And it seemed only seconds then, not even minutes that he was knocking at my door. I felt he must have gone completely mad. I did not yet accept ‘vampire,’ though the word did hover in my mind. I preferred to think him insane. I did not want to open the door—he was able to come in anyway. I wanted to get away from him. You can imagine how intense my fear was. He said we needed to talk now, and I assured him we did not.

“I was afraid to look at him or to talk to him. It was just blind fear. He prevented me from leaving the room. For hours we just sat there, with him quietly watching me. What could I have said, if I had spoken to him? Daylight came and still we sat there. I remember with the light of day, I finally stole a glance at him: he still seemed so—relatively normal. Yet by then I was thinking what he was—what he truly must be. It all seemed too incredible.

“Quite pale, yes, unusually so perhaps, but not some monster; not some mythological thing come to life. It was a struggle to reconcile the image of this exceptionally handsome young man, this languid and quiet, softly spoken, articulate and intelligent being with the sad and extraordinary eyes—with all I had witnessed. Every now and then he spoke to me. He asked if I needed anything. I do remember him saying: ‘Everything will be all right.’ I just sat there, mute. Finally, fear gave in to exhaustion and I slept as he apparently watched over me.

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