The Vampire's Angel (15 page)

“If I can force them to interact on a more regular basis perhaps the truth will be revealed and all of this mess solved.”

“Haven’t you learned enough about meddling?”

“I only want to help them. Maybe I should get rid of Marcel instead, since he claims that I threatened as much. It’s not a bad idea.”

“Michel!” Xavier threw up his hands, exasperated. “Violence won’t solve anything. I know that you want to help them. But you need to back away. Leave them alone. You try too hard to create obligations that never existed. You know that I’d love to see them marry as much as you, but no good will come from our continued interference.”

“Is that you two? Still?” Catherine suddenly called out as she marched into the room. “There you are. I’m having dinner served on the porch. I know that this time of day brings some of Paris’s unsavory odors, but it’s much cooler with the breeze from the river.”

“Charming description of Paris.” Xavier smiled and nodded. “Shall we?” He motioned them to proceed and he followed behind, contemplating Michel’s behavior.

18 June 1789

THOMAS STOOD ALONE in his flat. He used to love this time of night, when all the world slept and he returned to his quarters to think about what he had seen and done that evening. It relaxed him. He forgot about being a vampire, forgot about his strength, his problems, and reflected on another day gone.

Since his argument with Xavier, however, he detested these quiet hours and instead he brooded. After Thomas had left Xavier without a goodbye or glance back, he continued to visit his abbé every night and their conversations resumed as usual. Indeed, neither had the bravery to bring up the argument. So they pretended that nothing had happened, yet the tension floated thickly in the air. He almost mentioned it a million times, but by the time he summoned the courage he was too angry and hated to yell at Xavier.

This infuriated Thomas, too. He wanted to talk about it and come to some settlement. This dancing around their intimacy became harder for him because, even with the strain, he grew fonder and fonder of the priest. It took every ounce of patience to keep from grabbing Xavier in his arms and not letting go until the abbé admitted and accepted their love.

Thomas paced back and forth in front of the window as moonlight glistened off the Seine. This was the time when anger welled in him beyond control. He so regretted his actions of two nights ago, when he flew out the window and ruthlessly murdered the first two criminals that crossed his path. True, they were degenerates, but did they deserve death? It had not mattered to Thomas at that moment. Afterward, he promised to cage himself in his flat after he left Xavier to avoid such occurrences.

He wanted to blast through the window and rip off the head of the next human who dared cross his path, guilty or not of any crime. He gripped his own head to gain control of his emotions.

Anthony. The thought of his mentor made him even angrier. He had written the letter days ago and still no response. How could his one friend abandon him? Thomas slammed down the desk top, ripped out a parchment and grabbed the feather. When he reached for the ink, he gripped it so hard that it exploded all over the room. He took a deep breath and snatched another bottle from the drawer without bothering to clean up the mess.

Dear Anthony, Still no answer? I called to you in my deepest distress. Perhaps you do not realize the gravity of the situation. I am at a loss here. I need advice, I need to know how to act.

Spare me your smug admonitions for patience, that we have all the time in the world. Time, my friend, is a plague. I hear the clock chime every hour and it sends daggers through my heart. Why can’t you understand my pain? Why must you hide behind these proclamations and grand lessons?

I have killed more in the last weeks than in the previous year altogether. Don’t worry, I hold to your damn ethic. But the longer I wait, the longer that things remain unchanged, the more I want to throw it away and rule the earth as I know I could with my strength and cunning. Why should innocent humans enjoy themselves while I suffer complete agony?

I know you think I overreact. I know you think me too quick to judge. I do not dispute the accuracy of either notion. But I am alone with this trauma, and with every day those two things, overreaction and impatience, come more and more to bear on my actions.

Stay away if you will. Refuse to answer my pleas for help. But do not fly into Paris on some shroud of holiness and condemn my sins after I doom myself and others, for your reticence is as much at fault as my temper. Yours in darkness, Thomas

He broke a couple more things before he finished, but he felt better upon doing so. Thomas sealed the envelope, set it outside the door, and returned to the window to feel the first rays of sun peer over the horizon.

19 June 1789

XAVIER GLANCED AT Maria and smiled. They had donned their finest clerical garments and headed out of Paris with masses of people early in the morning. The week before, when Xavier first heard rumors about what might occur, he hardly believed them. Today it became a reality, so Xavier and Maria traveled in a Saint-Laurent carriage to the Palace of Versailles to witness this historic event. Other clergy and hundreds of citizens joined them on the trek to the countryside.

True, Xavier avoided politics as much as possible and never cared to hear about the Three Estates. They seldom did anything that really helped anyone, but today signaled the dawn of a new era. Some of Xavier’s colleagues who governed the Catholic Church had agreed to join the Third Estate, a momentous occasion. If a number of clergy really bolted from their separate Estate and joined in solidarity with the commoners in the Third, Louis would have to consider their political demands. So Xavier and Maria headed toward Versailles to watch people—commoners and officials alike—as they heard the news.

Xavier was the first in his party to see the palace. Its grandeur still struck him after all of these years and, unlike many Parisians, he had been inside its walls on more than one occasion. His father had frequently met with the king, and Xavier suspected that Michel had met Louis at least once, though he had never admitted it. The immense palace showcased immaculate decorations and struck awe in every visitor with its opulence and finely trimmed yard. However, it also created the indemnity that Louis now fought. If people watched loved ones starve to death and then came to either Louis’s residence in Paris or ventured out to Versailles, they naturally lashed out.

This even after the Third Estate had formed a National Assembly. Xavier shook his head. Indeed, this threat to Louis’s government spurred almost everyone in Paris to cry out for revolutionary change.

Although a number of people were amassed outside the palace, the guards kept everything in order and no one threatened a riot. Maria and Xavier wandered around the premises and talked with people that they recognized, especially church representatives to the official government.

Xavier was not surprised to see a few merchants profiting from the events. They sold mostly food and beverages. A number of people had gathered outside the gates but none of the guards tried to remove anyone. All was peaceful. Inside the gate gathered a predictable allotment of the wealthy, military, and other powerful denizens of France. To Xavier’s surprise, however, he met the eyes of Marcel André. Xavier recognized his devious smile and narrow eyes at once. They made his blood run cold. He wanted to love this man for Catherine’s sake but could never trust him. After all, he had poisoned his sister with some blue devilish concoction and manipulated Xavier into secrecy.

“Good day,” Xavier said through the fence, maintaining decorum.

“Abbé, I’m surprised that you ventured from your church.”

Xavier ignored the jibe. “And what brings you here? Profit?”

“I came upon the king’s business.”

“Really?”

“Yes. His Majesty purchases various wares from me, especially for his wife. I’ll get away from this rabble as soon as possible. I can’t believe that anyone questions the sanctity of the king’s ordained authority.”

“You mean that you profit from his wealth and power and don’t want to lose this lucrative revenue.”

“Harsh words for your future brother-in-law,” Marcel said, eyes narrowing. “What would Catherine think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I must go.”

Xavier nodded, glad not to have to talk to him more. He watched Marcel walk boldly up to a soldier and blow powder in his face. The soldier hardly reacted, instead giving way and allowing Marcel further entry into the palace grounds. How had no one seen this? It only intensified Xavier’s fear of this man and his designs on Catherine.

“Is that he?” Maria asked. Xavier jumped, not having seen her catch up with him.

“Unfortunately. Did you see what he just did?”

“No, what?”

“Never mind.” Xavier did not feel like trying to explain everything to Maria because it made his stomach turn.

“What’s he doing here?”

“He claims to be seeing the king.” He shrugged, not hiding the distaste he felt. “I don’t want to talk about him any longer.”

Maria chuckled and moved along at Xavier’s urging. They withdrew from the crowd and walked back toward the carriage, to return to Paris. They had accomplished almost nothing. Though Xavier enjoyed seeing the palace and feeling the changes in the air, he wanted to get back to Paris to ensure that his parish remained serene. They got into the carriage, rode silently into town, and then walked back to the church. Their conversation drifted to a variety of topics until Maria giggled.

“I almost found a man for you,” she said.

“Maria!” Xavier looked at her with distress and embarrassment.

“No one’s listening. I met with some of the nuns and asked them if they knew anything about the ‘priestly side of things.’ A couple of them gave me some clues and I went to approach the particular priest about it, but they transferred him out of Paris a few weeks ago. I’ll keep working on it.”

Xavier did not want others in the church to know about his private struggles. It was one thing to tell Maria, but her activities frankly worried him. Furthermore, and even more importantly, he was not looking for a sexual tryst or random relationship with some priest.

“I appreciate your efforts,” he said, “but I wish that you’d discuss things with me beforehand.”

“But that’s how we do it, Xavier. I met quite a few of the ladies before I settled down with my favorite ones.”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Xavier said.

Maria laughed heartily. “Are you afraid to hear about lovemaking inside the sacred convent walls?” She stopped because she had started laughing so hard that she had to hold her stomach as her face turned bright red, which even made Xavier laugh. “I’ll spare you the details if you’ll spare me your religious condemnations,” she finally managed to say. “I know it’s a sin, believe me, and I feel guilty from time to time, but we’re handling this in a way that honors God and solves internal longings that don’t simply disappear.”

“It’s not the morality that concerns me. For me, it’s personal. I need to love someone before I can think about anything else. It doesn’t work for me to dream of romping from priest to priest. I came to you because of how I felt about Thomas, not because sexual urges took over my body.”

“I know what motivates you. And not everyone in the church has multiple partners. I’m not exactly sure how the priests handle it. But don’t do anything with this Thomas. It’s crucial to keep this within the church.”

“Why? The sin is no less because we keep it within consecrated walls.”

“For protection, Xavier. We can’t risk others finding out what happens. Can you imagine the scandal? This talk of revolution already has people spewing venom against the Catholic Church. The last thing we need is for this to get beyond our ears.”

Xavier wanted to debate her contentions, and discuss how she hid behind some constructed and strange scruples which made no sense. She and all the people engaged in these activities recognized that it went against the faith they proclaimed, understood that others would shun the activity, yet felt at peace with it simply because they only did things with each other. “Listen to me,” she continued. “These are the things we keep in the church. End of discussion.”

“I’ll never utter another word to anyone. Thomas and I hardly mention it anymore. But don’t tell others about me until you talk to me first.”

“All right. But you’ll need to meet others eventually.”

“And now you listen to me. I love Thomas. I don’t act on the feelings despite how it hurts him because I can’t easily come to terms with the ethical dilemma. You must understand that for me, this is about my heart, not some man who walks through the door with whom to have sex.”

“You’ll change your mind,” she said, with certainty. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

They arrived at the convent and Xavier gladly watched the sun disappear. It was time to meet Thomas. He grabbed Maria’s arm and wished her well.

“Remember, Xavier, you’re risking too much. Keep it in the church.” And she turned and walked away.

19 June 1789 Evening

THOMAS AWAKENED FEELING better and looked around his room, embarrassed at the mess he’d left the night before. Ink stains covered everything. He wrote orders for his servants to have the soiled furniture replaced by tomorrow and set the instructions in the basket outside his door with a generous tip. The previous night’s anger had dissipated while he slept, leaving him refreshed and ready to see Xavier.

Thomas hurried around his flat and dressed, also cleaning as much as possible, then he removed the ink-stained furniture and set out for the night. He raced across town so swiftly that no human saw his passage, but merely felt a breeze as he whisked by. He arrived at the church in seconds to find it empty. No Xavier. So he plopped himself outside the Cathedral windows and whistled while he waited. His heart leapt when he finally saw a priest’s robe approaching and Xavier walked up, smiling.