The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (55 page)

He had today, and that was it. Technically tomorrow was the seventh day, and he had promised himself a week to try to find Augere. But somehow, the idea of dragging it out to the last hour, the last minute, only depressed him more. The level of desperation he would reach in those last hours would be almost too painful to bear. He had only this day left, really, to find him. Tomorrow he would have to give up and go back to Minnesota.

He had no plan now except to just to wander the streets, look at and enjoy and absorb all the city might offer that could cheer and interest him, even if just briefly.

He went into a Voodoo shop on Bourbon Street. He looked over the amulets for protection and prosperity, for luck and health, and for every sort of wish humans could have.
Nothing here for me though,
he thought.
Nothing to find and draw a reluctant vampire to you
.

He paused to peer into shop windows as he strolled.
There will be a sign, something to guide me… something to tell me what I need to do or where I need to go. I have to believe that. Some help will come from somewhere. It has to
.

He stopped for coffee and some juice at a small café on Royal Street. Charming as only New Orleans places could be, in an old courtyard setting. Another place to remember and return to someday. He tried to be hopeful.

He paused as he left the café, wondering where to go next. He was on a section of Royal Street he hadn’t walked before. Well, then, today would be the day. This was to be a day for new experiences.

He walked leisurely, taking time to stop and peer into any shop window that caught his eye along the way. At the window of a shop near Toulouse, selling items with a New Orleans theme, he lingered for a while. Some of the items celebrated southern or French, Cajun or Creole culture. It was an eclectic mix, and much of it very appealing to him. There were many fleur de lis themed items. He took time to look over everything in the window display, and then wondered if he should go inside. Then he suddenly remembered that small figure of the young girl in the curiosity shop, and he immediately set out to go and find her. He wanted to have that odd little statue. But then something in a shop window he passed caught his eye and held him there: it was a small plaque, gold lettered against a black background. The words brought him an ineffable sadness and very nearly a rush of tears.

Ah, yes. There you are, Jason. You see? It is the sign you have been waiting for. A literal sign though. The cosmos is trying to reach out and help you… Making the point clearly, so you won’t miss it. So you will finally get it
.

The plaque read:
Depuis que j’ai perdu espoir, je me sens mieux
. He translated: Ever since I lost all hope, I feel better.

The universe wants me to give up hope for anything coming from this foolishness, and to get on with my life. Accept what is
.

He numbly walked to the next corner which now put him on Chartres Street. He stood there on the corner, uncertain of what his next step would be today, or for the rest of his life for that matter. He could barely think what to do. The message he believed he had received now fully occupied him and clouded his thoughts. Then his eye caught the sign hanging in front of an intriguing old building across the street: it was the Napoleon House and Café. He had never been there before, though he had wanted to go. Well now would be the time. He very much needed a drink.

He entered the café and walked up to the bar. Classical music was softly playing. The place felt crowded with lunchtime patrons but it was not too noisy; the music could still be heard. He immediately felt comfortable with the look and ambience of the place.

“What will you have, sir?”

“Do you have a beverage suitable for commemorating finally reaching the lowest depths of human misery?”

The bartender turned his head at a slight angle. “That is going to be a tough one. I would suggest—you might want to start with a good stiff brandy.”

“Hmm. Yes. Napoleon Brandy.”

The drink was placed before him. He took a sip. Smooth, yet still had a bite to it.

This is it. I have to leave tomorrow. I need to take something with me from this experience. I just cannot leave here with nothing
.

He sipped his drink slowly, savoring it. He wanted to linger there a while. He enjoyed the old worn look of the place, the stylish and homey décor. But he felt a restless need to move on. Not that he had anywhere in mind to go. He was open to anything that came along. He thanked the bartender, taking a last glance around.

As he exited, he needed to get his bearings again. Now which way had he been going?

Directly across the street, he was surprised to see a bar/restaurant called the Maspero. He hadn’t realized there were two different establishments with the same name.

Suddenly, it seemed to be an important sign; maybe one he shouldn’t ignore, even though he was sure he had already found his definitive sign. Curiosity, if nothing else, pulled him to that other establishment.

He walked in, past a dozen or so tables, and went directly to the bar along the far wall. This place offered a larger bar area than the Napoleon Café or the other Maspero. It was not too crowded at the moment; in fact he was now the only person at the bar though several patrons occupied a few of the tables nearby.

Might as well have another brandy
.

He was going to use this place, serendipitously found, and this moment here and now, to try to fix an image of Augere in his mind. Tears began to well in his eyes. He felt a little embarrassed at this, but he did not brush them away.

He wanted as clear a mental picture of him as he could get. His features; his mannerisms; the sound of his voice. If he could picture him clearly, make it real enough, it could almost feel as if he actually did see him. He could try to make this moment, right here, as memorable as he could, and he could take that with him. He didn’t want…he just couldn’t leave New Orleans with nothing. Fix the images in his mind and then all he would have to do is recall the image of this place again in every detail and him along with it. Then he would own it, mentally at least. He could bring it all clearly back. For as long as he needed to. Strong emotion threatened to overwhelm him.
Don’t lose it. Not now. Concentrate. Picture him in your mind. Be as clear, as concise and as detailed as possible
.

He pictured the youthful, utterly smooth and extremely pale face. The straight nose, high cheekbones; the almost delicately formed mouth. Everything in perfect proportion. The long dark hair, falling in full waves that framed his face. Those extraordinary eyes and their unusual color. The almost regal posture ; his tall thin stature and the ever impassive expression. His signature steady gaze. The images came to him, joyfully sharp and clear. He sipped at his brandy. He was impressed with his ability to recreate the picture of Augere. It was him, and yet—not.

The image in his mind was still as lifeless as a photograph. A one dimensional representation, likely to be corrupted by time and memory; to visually fade and become indistinct mentally before disappearing completely over time, until he would not even be able to recall with any clarity exactly what Augere looked like. If only he could have taken just one photograph…it would still be better than relying only on memory.

He could not hope to hold that image. Or what it felt like to be in his presence. Or recall every word of their brief conversations. It was impossible to even try to imagine all he might have come to know had there only been time enough to become better acquainted with him.

Concentrate on his voice
. Jason tried to find and fix that hushed quality, the softly spoken tone, in his mind. The way Augere could speak in such a low voice in a crowded room but you would still be able to hear every word distinctly: how did he do that? The cadence, the ever so slight accent; even the unusual expressions he sometimes used. He tried to think of words or phrases that were idiosyncratic to Augere; he wanted to try to get the enunciation just right and fix that firmly in his mind… he thought of a phrase.

“I understand you wish to speak to me.”

Hmmm. Yes…yes! That’s it! Well, pretty close. I’ve almost got it. There is that monotone that was so typical of him
. Jason gazed into his glass of brandy with a puzzled expression.
Except—not—that cold, detached quality…that seems…too harsh…
And that phrase was not at all the wording Jason had been thinking of just now.

Several moments passed before Jason whirled around on his bar stool, startling the bartender at the far end of the bar, causing him to spill some juice he was pouring into a container.

Standing about ten feet away from him—wearing all black, looking resplendent…radiant…fully and truly present: Augere.

Jason gasped at the unexpected sight of him. A sudden powerful sense of elation lifted him off of his seat. All of the sadness that had so recently enveloped and weighed him down suddenly lifted off of his shoulders, became crushed by his sudden joy and fell away into a fine gray powder that scattered into the wind at the mere sight of Augere.

Jason wanted just to stand there and look at him; just take in the view. How impossibly paler he was than Jason remembered… Did his hair seem a little longer? His eyes were a somber gray just now…and the cold hard stare of those eyes was now fixed upon him. Jason had heard but quickly dismissed the icy tone that delivered Augere’s words, and even the obvious physical and emotional distance could not diminish Jason’s joy at the presence of him. Jason was dimly aware of all these warnings but scarcely took any particular notice.

“Yes, I do!” His voice was full of exuberance. “I wanted—”

“What are you doing here?” The tone was sharply critical. “Harassing strangers; behaving erratically; taking excessive alcohol and wandering dangerous streets at all hours.”

Jason had to push past his surprise at all Augere seemed to know.

“I…I was looking for you. I needed to see you, and I personally had to speak with—”

“You thought you could just
find
me?” Augere spoke with icy derision.

“No,” Jason shook his head. “No. I knew it would be impossible. But I had to at least try…and here you are.”

Augere’s eyes narrowed ominously. He regarded Jason with cold disdain.

Jason was undeterred. “I came to New Orleans because I figured you were here looking for a new assistant before going home to Boston.”

“I live here.” The sharpness in his voice cut to the bone like a bitter wind.

Jason stared at him, a little perplexed. “You have a place here…but you live in Boston…?”

“I have a place in Boston. I live
here
.” There was a mocking tone now. “You have spoken to me. Now go home.” Augere abruptly turned to leave.

Oh, no…No! No, he can’t just leave! The moment will be gone and absolutely never, ever come again. This is my only chance—right here and right now
.

“NO! I have NOT spoken to you!” The boldness of his words surprised himself. Augere stopped and turned around with a look of mild surprise barely concealed under the cold exterior. He wasn’t used to being challenged by anyone.

Jason began to babble an unprepared speech in a pressured voice. He just had to get the words out, quickly if necessary.

“I just needed you to know I left because I was afraid, totally terrified and not because I wanted to leave. And—well you said you would kill me if I—”

“I
will
do so.” An icy warning.

“Yes.” Jason nodded in acknowledgment. “I know. So there’s that… But you—and the others—said I didn’t have to be afraid if I kept silent.”

“It is as I said,” Augere stated with angry impatience.

“But I wasn’t able to believe that. I was certain I had to be killed because I had learned something by accident I was never supposed to know. About you. I was never supposed to see that portal thing. It wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t yours. It just happened. I tried to say I wouldn’t reveal any of it to anyone, but it seemed no one was believing or listening to me. And the Geniers kept saying nothing was going to happen but I was just not able to believe it.” Jason took a breath. “Because I thought the only reason no one in the world seemed to know about you is because…” He paused to take another breath. “…if anyone did find out they would have to be killed. It was the only way such a big secret could possibly be kept. Everyone who found out had to die.” Jason finally paused and took a glance around. No one was remotely close enough to hear any of what was being said.

Augere’s expression reflected passive interest. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

“I don’t know what else I need to say to convince you I would never reveal anything about all of this. I do understand how it has to be. I would never violate that.”

Now Augere’s attention appeared focused on a point above and to the left of Jason’s head, as if he were bored and disinterested; as if he wished to hear no more and had no desire for further eye contact. As if Jason had already ceased to exist.

“But that’s not the most important thing I needed to tell you. That’s not why I’m here.”

Now Augere looked at him warily.

“What made me feel even worse about all of this is that I really like you—”

“Liking me is not required.” Ice formed around the words as Augere spoke them.

“Well, you don’t have to like it that I like you.”

Augere arched his eyebrows slightly.

Jason vaguely wondered where his sudden boldness came from. The words seemed to have a life and purpose of their own, separate from all his body was feeling, which was, for the most part he suddenly realized, a stark cold fear…of Augere? Or…of something else he had yet to define to himself. He didn’t know.

“What I also needed to tell you is I couldn’t stand it if you thought the reason I left was because of what you are. Or if my actions caused you to think I thought any less of you because of your circumstances. It is painfully abhorrent to me to think the way I acted that day may have left you with that very wrong impression. That was definitely not the reason I left— it was not revulsion or disgust directed at you…never that. And I needed to tell you this in person. That is the main thing I had to say. The one reason I had to come here to find you.”