Read The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) Online
Authors: Sandrine Genier
“And Dad is eight years older than Mom.”
Jason pursed his lips and then exhaled a deep sigh. Why couldn’t Augere be some geeky doofus banker type dude with thick glasses and frumpy suits? Was there some rule written somewhere that vampires had to be ridiculously good looking and charming? Damn it. The word vampire brought his reality back into perspective.
Jason was shaking his head. “You can’t do this…you have to forget about him……you could get hurt…”
And by hurt, I mean killed. You could get both of us killed
. His mouth went dry and he had to look away suddenly. She did not understand. How could she?
“Jason…do you actually believe for one second I don’t know what is really going on here? That I totally do not understand?”
He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He feared the sound of wisdom in her voice was already saying more than her young face could express.
Jason’s body tensed and he immediately felt sick in the pit of his stomach. The blood rushed from his head, and he felt a little faint. He wouldn’t meet her gaze; he didn’t want her to see the fear in his eyes, if she really did know already, as he now suspected she did. Instead he stared at the TV screen and the images of Young Frankenstein, trying to focus on Gene Wilder with his assistants in the laboratory, as the deranged doctor sputtered ‘Sedagive?’
She leaned in toward him, kissed his cheek and then tousled his hair. “You are so incredibly sweet to be so worried. Even if you weren’t my brother, I would love you truly, madly, deeply. I can take care of myself. So you don’t have to be the big brother, worrying about me and boys and dating and getting a broken heart. And cripes! I’ve had to knee a couple of jerks in the groin already.”
Jason exhaled very slowly; a sigh of temporary relief. So she didn’t know. Not yet anyway.
They’d been sparring for just a few rounds but it felt like she already had him on the ropes. The room was spinning; he couldn’t see too good out of one eye, but he wasn’t ready to go down for the count. He caught sight of Ma sitting in the crowd with her sad, tearful expression wringing a damp handkerchief in her hands as she called out to him: ‘Countin’ on ya to do good, Sonny!”
I’ve watched far too many late night films from the ’30s and ’40s
. He wanted to laugh.
I’m really losing it now
.
“You know, there are lots of nice goth boys just waiting for you back home, if you would just give them a chance—”
“Oh? Which ones have you personally dated, just so I’ll know?”
That was a low punch.
“You have only just met him and already he is influencing you to be mean to me.”
“That is not true! How can you say that, Jason?”
Oh. So she could throw punches. She just couldn’t take them.
Stop making a game of this, Jason. This is far too serious
.
“It’s just that you are having difficulty accepting that I am growing up and getting serious about relationships. I really love you and I really…like…him. I just want you to be understanding about this and be kind and nice to him too…and try not to see this so negatively.”
He nearly laughed. But really, there was nothing funny here.
“Just think—he is your boss, now, but what if, someday, he was more than that?”
Ouch! Oh. No, she didn’t! He did not see that coming…A double jab to the abdomen, followed by a roundhouse to the jaw. The room was spinning again, everything growing darker…the horror…the horror… He had to shake his head to bring himself back.
Now, this really is just too much. When I get this stressed out, sometimes my mind retreats into old and bizarre movie scenarios or book plots. Weird ones, usually
.
“As I was saying, you have the rest of the school year, and then you will be heading off to college. In time you may see things very differently.” He was starting to sound like his parents. But he couldn’t help it. “This is just some flirtation to you at the moment…but this is my job! This is my life now. And all of that is very important to me. I am dealing with a lot of stuff right now, things I cannot even begin to explain or discuss with you, and I cannot risk having my situation compromised any more than it probably is.”
She looked petulant and avoided his gaze. Then suddenly she began to study him with a wondering expression.
“Look—he was probably just trying to be a little accommodating. I—we—put him in an awkward and uncomfortable situation; I am surprised he even agreed to this. . Maybe he was just trying to be nice. Can you understand? This has to be the end of it now.”
With her inquisitive gaze still fixed on his face she said almost wistfully, “It’s too late for that. I already like him too much.”
And what did that mean exactly
? he wondered nervously.
A look came over her then that made him pause. He’d only seen it on rare occasions before: that teetering, poised on the brink of something look—where she might suddenly become a hard cold glacier of solid irrepressible determination; or that same frozen expanse could suddenly dissolve into a tsunami of cold tears enduring enough to freeze him out for a long time. Neither of those scenarios seemed about to manifest exactly, but both were possible and equally scary to him.
“Carrie—I’m not just asking, not just begging you—as the favorite brother—and the better looking one—I’m pleading with you, as one carbon based life form to another—”
She was trying hard to suppress a smile now, which burst into a short laugh.
He leaned toward her, hugged her and kissed her forehead, holding her for a long interval. He wasn’t fooled for a second that he had weakened her resolve. But he needed hope just then.
They moved into a kind of détente. The casserole was ready now and they enjoyed the home cooked meal, deciding to sit in the living room as they ate, catching up with the rest of Young Frankenstein, laughing out loud as they said aloud the favorite movie lines they both knew so well.
Carrie was fighting sleep—she did not want this weekend to end. But when it was finally too much effort to stay awake, and she headed off to sleep, Jason chose the couch again, now returned to its normal location.
As he drifted off to sleep he worried about how Carrie would never give up easily once she set her mind to something. He had to get her out the door tomorrow, maybe a little earlier than necessary if possible. He would refuse to engage in the subject of Augere with her. Out of sight and out of mind. It had to be that way. From now on. Already it felt hopeless though.
She actually slept in the next morning and he had to wake her. All of the activity and excitement of the past few days had probably caught up with her finally.
They had decided to go out for breakfast and then on to the airport. She could take her time getting ready; she had an afternoon flight, and the traffic should be less by then.
He took her luggage out to the car and was relieved to see Augere’s car was still absent. He vaguely wondered where he had gone. Jason checked his phone, as he had done discreetly over the past few days; no calls. He returned to his quarters. His plan was to take her out through his private entrance, in closer proximity to the garage, avoiding the foyer altogether. Just as a precaution. She protested.
“I’ve got to get some more photos of that library, remember? I told you I only have two or three of that room! And that huge walk-in pantry! I bet when I show Mom pictures of that she will have Dad knock down a wall and build one just like it for her.”
He suspected what she was really up to. Hoping to get a glimpse of Augere again. Not that it was going to happen.
He was pretty sure now: the vampire was gone. He felt it.
So how was he going to refuse to let her take a few more photos? It seemed like a harmless and reasonable enough thing to ask. What was the damage?
He tentatively agreed, silently planning his moves in advance: he would accompany her to the pantry and then to the library and then position himself as casually as possible near Augere’s door, to stand between it and Carrie—just in case.
She discovered she needed a new media card for the camera, and he went with her to the garage to retrieve one from her luggage. He noticed the look of dismay when she saw Augere’s car was still gone. An unmistakable sadness settled over her features.
They re-entered the house through the kitchen and she took several photos of the pantry. Then they moved to the library. She took so many photos there, he wondered if she was just stalling. “Such a beautiful, comfortable house. I especially love this room. You are so lucky to live here.”
Now she wanted photos of the foyer. This was not part of the plan. But he eased up a little, figuring there was now little harm to be risked in that. They moved out to the foyer and he stayed several steps ahead of her, moving toward Augere’s door.
As she paused to take photos of the large foyer, she gasped. When he quickly turned to look at her, she was staring past him, raptly attentive. He nervously followed her gaze. If he had not been so focused on Augere’s door, he probably would have noticed them sooner.
The tall clear violet vase that stood on the hall table was nearly obscured by the largest and most lavish bouquet of roses he had ever seen placed there. Carrie ran to them now and was gently pulling the blossoms to her face and breathing in their delightful scent. As he moved closer he experienced the scent of roses too, as they perfumed the air.
It was an extravagant display, one meant to draw particular attention. The vase easily held more than three dozen roses in deep shades and then lighter hues of purples and lavender, along with various red tones: crimson, scarlet and burgundy; several others appeared dark enough to be called a rich black. Lush and varied greenery, some of which trailed down the sides of the vase to the floor added more drama to the display and as if to further emphasize the gothic aspect, a half dozen black shiny foil bats were interspersed among the sprays of greenery and flowers.
Where did he find BATS? In December?
A large black satin bow was tied and draped around the bouquet, trailing in two long streams that nearly swept the floor. The sight of the beautiful arrangement even took Jason’s breath away momentarily.
“Oh!… These are just so beautiful!…and this looks very gothic to me! I have got to take photos of this.” She began to take pictures from every angle, as Jason nervously watched, taking quick glances toward Augere’s door. She took more than a dozen photos, and then paused to caress the blossoms again and breathe in their perfume.
“I can’t help thinking—maybe—well, I’m sure they aren’t for me, but I think maybe I was meant to see them. Do you think?”
He did indeed think so.
Damn it, Augere
. Before he could reply, an ivory envelope, which had been propped up and nearly hidden beside the vase, fell to the floor. Jason recognized it as Augere’s stationery: the ivory parchment with spidery red and blue lines running through it. Carrie bent to pick it up.
“It’s for me!” she exclaimed as Jason recognized Augere’s handwriting.
He sighed heavily.
What on earth was Augere thinking? Why would he do this?
She insisted on finding a letter opener in the library. She did not want to mangle the sealed envelope. He stood waiting in place until she returned with the now opened envelope. She withdrew a single page of folded paper.
He watched her face with anxiety and dismay as she read quietly to herself.
Carrie ∼
∼It is my hope that you enjoyed your visit here as much as I enjoyed meeting you. I very much liked the black spider web garment you wore yesterday; I thought it a clever design.
I did not wish to burden you with my thoughts but I thank you for your kindness in allowing me to share them.
I have remained distant to avoid interfering with your visit. It is not my intention to cause disharmony between the two of you, especially not on my account.
Information that you have provided to me has resolved a communication issue between your brother and myself. That was most helpful .
I am reimbursing your travel expense on his behalf and he shall not know of it. Buy some wonderful gothic things.
I wish you a safe journey home.
Sincere regards,
Laurent Augere
She held the letter close to her, taking her time to read it.
Was it that long?
He could see nothing of the contents or length from where he stood. Perhaps she was just reading it over again?
When she finally looked up at him, tears were welling up in her eyes.
That could mean anything
. Now he was worried again.
She had lingered over every word of the neatly fountain-penned handwriting, and took her time over a second reading.
There were five crisp one hundred dollar bills within the envelope that she kept hidden from Jason’s sight. It was more than the cost of her airfare.
How incredibly sweet of him,
she thought. She had something even more valuable from him to treasure now: his words.
The tears and the look on her face were making Jason very nervous.
Now what? What is going on?
“He must have seen me—yesterday…” She looked puzzled. “That long sleeved shirt I wore…he commented on it. Where was he, I wonder? Why didn’t he speak to me…?” She shot Jason a look, as if he were somehow to blame.
“What…?” He shrugged. “Are you going to let me read it?”
“Do I ask to read your personal mail?”
“There were some bills, a few magazines and junk mail—if only you’d asked.” Jason replied. She gave him one of her inscrutable looks. What could Augere possibly have written that she wouldn’t let him see? The possibilities filled him with dread. And lingering here in the house was making him more nervous. He did not need Augere coming through the door right now. Worried that might happen, he began to usher her out.
“Let’s go get breakfast. I’m hungry.”
“Wait!” She paused, her gaze lingering on the profusion of flowers. “Even if…maybe…these aren’t for me—I want to—I just know he won’t mind, if I take some of them…” She carefully removed one of each color, until she had nine of them total, and still the display looked lavishly full. Then she took several of the bats and some of the greens as well. She cast one last wistful glance toward Augere’s door, and then they went to the kitchen together, to get plastic wrap to carefully secure her flowers.