The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (74 page)

“Hello.” Carrie breathed out the word, her eyes slowly taking in every inch of him. At over six feet he and Jason were about the same height, but he seemed to particularly tower over her petite frame. Or maybe it was just the presence of him, seeming bigger than life.

“Who
are
you?” she gasped, rudely direct.

“Laurent Augere,” came the nearly whispered reply.

It seemed to take her a moment to process this. Then her eyes got wide.

“You?
!
You’re
Jason’s boss? No…way…”

He nodded once, but somewhat hesitantly, as if not sure he should admit to anything.

“Damn!! Bite me!!”

“Whoa! Carrie! That expression!—it really has had its day, hasn’t it?” Jason had reached her now and already had hold of her arm, positioning himself somewhat between her and Augere as he began to try to drag her away. “The car is here! We really do have to get going; lots to do today. And Mr. Augere has got to get going too, don’t you?” he said pointedly to Augere.

Augere’s expression was a mixture of surprise, wonder, wariness and a trace of nervous amusement. He seemed at a loss.

The formidable vampire meets his formidable match,
Jason thought for one bizarre instant.

“Yes,” Augere said softly as he backed into his quarters and then quickly closed the door. The sound of a dead bolt could be heard locking into place.

Carrie absently pulled free of Jason’s grasp and took a few steps toward the closed door. She stood transfixed.

“Oh, wow…oh, my god, wow…I can’t believe him…” The words were spoken like a prayer of thanks after a miracle. She could not seem to shake herself free from the spell of him.

“He’s…he is just so…I never expected…someone so…” She paused. “And did you see…past him…just behind him…?”

“Nope. Nothing. I did not see anything at all.”

“Yeah. That’s just it. Total darkness. Pitch black.” She seemed to come out of her trance for just a moment. “It was like he had just stepped out of a dark cave or something…this amazing creature…such an awesome being…”

Jason kept acting and talking just as if everything was normal and okay, while he already knew that probably nothing was ever really going to be normal and okay again.

“He’s so…he’s just so…” She seemed to struggle to find adequate words.

“He’s just a guy, Carrie. That’s all.”

She turned to look at him now and blinked several times. Her expression became one of visible annoyance. “Seriously? Are you kidding? Why didn’t you tell me? You let me think he was just some average old guy wearing frumpy suits—some old geek! You never said how totally good looking…how freaking beautiful he is—” She had a faraway look in her eyes now. “That voice…and those eyes…”

“He does wear suits.” Jason nodded, as if that could possibly make any difference now. “And I’m pretty sure I said ravishing. No—wait, maybe it was gorgeous. Yep. I’m pretty sure it was one of those.”

He wasn’t sure she was even hearing him now and maybe it didn’t matter what he said. She still had a faraway look in her eyes. A car horn sounded outside. That had to be their rental car, waiting for them.

“I don’t know about a suit,” she was saying with a dreamy expression, shaking her head slowly, “but I could totally see him in a long black velvet waist coat… a black and red brocade vest…” She fantasized as if speaking to herself. “So elegant…there is definitely just a totally gothic vibe there…so beautiful…”

“We have got to go. Now, Carrie.” He kept his voice calm and matter of fact, although he had almost added a begging “please” to the end of that sentence.

She didn’t look at him or respond. She continued staring raptly at the closed ornately carved black door, as if it were actually a temporary substitute for what her eyes really sought.

I have a door that looks exactly like that,
Jason thought,
except HE is not on the other side of it
. The enormity of what had just occurred threatened to sink him. He didn’t dare let himself begin to imagine all of the implications just yet. He was clinging to the idea of minimizing the consequences of this; of somehow working some magical damage control. She had only seen him for a few moments, after all. He just had to make sure it never happened again. And then everything would be okay. Everything could go back to the way it was before. Right.

“Or, we could just hang around the house today,” Carrie said unexpectedly.

“No. We cannot. Besides, he is going to be leaving. And so are we. You came to see me, and to experience Boston, right?” He moved slightly, so he now stood between her and the amazing awesomeness of Augere’s closed door, blocking the view which continued to hold her full attention. She blinked then, and looked at him, a little startled.

“Salem? Marblehead?” he said to her. “The ocean, and the aquarium? All waiting for you,” he reminded her.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” The front doorbell sounded for a third time now, a little more insistently. And in a few minutes they were on their way. Once the rental car was officially theirs they headed out toward Gloucester.

He pointed out things of interest along the way. The bracing wintry air—which she loved as much as he did—could not deter their enjoyment of the ocean views and the quaint seaside towns of Swampscott, Marblehead, and then Salem, which Jason knew to save for last. Very soon she was her usual self again, at least on the surface, chatting excitedly and wanting to stop to take photos everywhere.

She was as enchanted with Salem as he knew she would be. They walked cobble stoned streets and stopped at numerous small shops that sold a variety of oddities, occult supplies, Salem souvenirs, books, T-shirts and everything to do with the history of the town. She took lots of photos. They visited The Black Cat book shop, which had a full size black casket in the center of the main room. They stopped for coffee and sandwiches at the Crypt Café, with its grey faux stone walls, gargoyles, skeletons and monster movies playing on a raised TV screen. They were saving their appetites for a big seafood meal they decided to have later, at the Barnacle restaurant in nearby Marblehead. He wanted to stop at Redlyn’s shop on Derby Street before they left Salem since she sold many of the things he thought would interest Carrie, but a sign on the door announced the shop was closed until January.

At a small Asian store she selected some trinkets and amulets as well as: a lucky cat; a small Buddha figure; some Salem magnets; a miniature Halloween tea set— she allowed Jason buy these for her, though she admonished him with a reminder she had her own money. She bought some books and small charms and jewelry items at several of the new age shops. They browsed a huge toy and collectibles store, and Jason bought some things for himself there. They both enjoyed the variety of esoteric things to see, many with an occult, humorous, or historical theme.

Carrie couldn’t decide between all of the many very different and totally cool Salem T-shirts available, so Jason urged her to buy several, which she did, at various locations. She bought a bat patterned scarf to add to the growing collection of one of her favorite accessories.

They went to the Salem Witch Museum and saw several attractions and exhibits related to the witchcraft trials. Carrie was very moved by what she saw and bought two books that dealt with the historical subject. She had wiccan leanings as did Jason and the exhibits were of significant interest to both of them. It was a perfect day, one which flowed easily from one thing to another, since both of them derived enjoyment from the same kinds of things.

They stopped for a late afternoon snack and a chance to warm themselves from the winter chill. From the Derby Seafood shop they each got a cup of the best corn chowder either had ever tasted, and had a cup of the most heavenly butternut squash and green apple soup as well. Carrie closed her eyes momentarily at the first taste of both soups; she couldn’t remember ever tasting anything so good. They each had hot cider also and shared a huge cranberry orange muffin.

“Jason, do you think I could go on some of your ghost hunts with you sometime? I would love to go on some paranormal investigations.” He was delighted at the prospect. Here was another thing they could share. He talked to her about the various haunted places in and around Boston and already imagined the two of them there.

“Fall is really the very best time here. The colors are just brilliantly beautiful. The October light especially is exquisite—everything seems to have a golden shine. The air has such a wonderful cold crispness then and seems filled with all the best smells: grapes on the vine, pumpkins and spices, apples and bonfires. I even love the damp smell of the leaves! And that is probably the best time to experience some of the ghost and graveyard tours and the haunted houses too—”

He stopped himself. What on earth was he doing? He was supposed to be discouraging her, not inviting her back again. He had gotten caught up in his own enthusiasm for what he loved and was vicariously enjoying now through her eyes. She was nodding enthusiastically. Already she had plenty of reasons to want to come back here. He was feeling slightly nauseated now. And Augere was likely one of those reasons already.

He half expected to have to fend off numerous questions about him throughout the day. At times she had a faraway look in her eye that probably had less to do with the immediate scenery and surroundings and more to do with Augere, he suspected. “The Augere stare.” He thought himself probably guilty of that faraway look more than a few times too when gazing at Augere.

But she was strangely silent about him. That made him a little uneasy. It wasn’t like her. Not that he needed to worry now. As far as she knew Augere would really be gone.

Instead she chatted about Boston, and Salem and all she’d seen. She asked questions about various places and historical events and seemed completely caught up in the moment.

They drove to Gloucester and toured Hammond Castle next, an actual large castle that had been brought from Europe and reassembled on the shore. There was a secret narrow winding staircase and a moat and it was the first time either had ever been inside a real castle. By the time they completed their visit, it was obvious the downtown aquarium would have to wait for another day.

Jason drove them to a large grocery store and Carrie pushed the shopping cart as they filled it with items from their list. Carrie made most of the food selections. Jason attempted damage control.

“You wouldn’t believe how very expensive it is to live here. And wait till you see how expensive it is to park the car, if you can ever find a spot! I was thinking we should take the T tomorrow instead of driving; then we won’t have to pay $22 an hour for parking and the subway will get us where we need to go—to the aquarium, etcetera…wow, look at these prices! Can you believe how expensive everything is?”

She made a face. “Shall I put some of this stuff back?”

“No! No…I’m just saying, you know, compared to other places, it is costly to live here.”

She nodded solemnly. “Don’t forget the Coke,” she pointed out as they passed a display. “I took the last one, remember?”

He nodded, placing a six pack of cans into the cart.

“Let’s see,” she said, looking over the list. “I want to make some casseroles for us. And I need the stuff to make Mom’s brownie recipe.”

Jason spent roughly three times the amount he usually did for groceries. Some of it was staples he did happen to need and the rest was stuff he and Carrie just wanted to have.

It was after 9 p.m. when they returned home; Jason had hoped to be able to squeeze the rental car into the garage.

He was relieved to see the other car gone; he left a space just in case. They each had to make several trips to get all the stuff into the kitchen. Jason wanted to get her back into his quarters; he did not want her to hear the car pull into the garage in case Augere did happen to return, which was not expected. Augere never used the kitchen entrance apparently, having his own set of car keys most likely and using his private entrance.

She insisted on making the brownies—now—saying they would not take long. Jason took some snacks and beverages to the living room. Despite all the stuff they had bought, they still decided to order a medium pizza and wings to be delivered and to share a large assorted sub sandwich they had bought. By the time the pizza had arrived, and he went to the kitchen to tell her, the brownies were already cooling. She had separated them into one large and one small plate and was waiting for them to cool a little more so she could cover them.

Suddenly she hugged Jason tightly and thanked him for the wonderful day and for all of the things he had bought her. He nearly teared up a little at the sudden display of her sincere gratitude.

She returned her attention to the brownies. “These are for him,” she said, putting plastic wrap over the small plate and writing his name—she asked Jason how to spell it—on a napkin. “To thank him for letting me stay here.” She had not mentioned him all day. Now it begins he thought.

“Oh, you shouldn’t bother really. He doesn’t seem to go for that kind of thing.”

“You know that no one can resist Mom’s brownies, Jason. And I make them as good as she does.”

He needed to keep her off the subject. He expected doing so was not going to be easy. The subject was out of the coffin now, so to speak, and he wasn’t going back in.

“Okay—let’s see what’s on TV.” With the choices being several TV shows they both hated, or holiday specials they had seen too often, their choice was a monster movies parody marathon.

They curled up at opposite ends of the couch. The coffee table in front of them was laden with all kinds of guilty pleasures. They both ate hungrily for a while, commenting on the fact that they hadn’t yet made it to the Barnacle for seafood. “We’ll go another time,” Jason promised, and then guiltily regretted the words. He kept slipping up and saying the wrong things: promises of more fun things to see and do. When she began looking at him quietly for several moments, he thought: here it comes. But it wasn’t what he thought.

“You do seem better, Jason. Than the last time I saw you. But something still isn’t right. You just seem so stressed. And a little sad even. I have to think it is probably that same situation you were dealing with when you came home.” She paused. “I know you always hold a lot inside. But I’m wondering how that situation went—did it ever get resolved?” Her sincere concern for his wellbeing touched him deeply.