William (6 page)

“A tiger has no conscience.”

“So? Which is better? A tiger would eat a
child. I wouldn’t.” He gave me a pleased look as if to say,
There you have it!

“But you destroy a life for every meal,” I
persisted. “Who’s to say you haven’t killed the next Copernicus, or
Christ, or…”

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “
Mon dieu
,
you do adapt quickly! Already deeming some lives more important
than others.”

“No,” I protested, though I was caught off
guard by the remark. Flustered, I shook my head and glanced around
the room before I whispered. “The man who’s serving us. You’ve
staked him out, haven’t you? What if he’s got a family?
Children?”

The vampire lifted his shoulders again,
unmoved. “What if they all die of fever? What if he rapes his
housemaid?”

Just then the doomed coffee-man returned to
the table with my trench: a slab of roast beef, stewed carrots and
beets, a cabbage salad, some cheese and a hunk of apple pie. Theo’s
talk should have stolen my appetite, but I’d missed so many meals
it was beyond restraint. My stomach growled as the man poured a
large glass of Port and set the jug on the table.

"I think I want to see this full again, my
dear man," Theo said to him, dangling his empty glass playfully
between his fingers. When the man was gone, the vampire looked at
me with a sparkle in his eye. “
Bon appetit
.”

Numbly, I took up my fork and knife. But
before I took my first bite, I stopped to beseech him again. “Why
not take the rapists, then? Why not the murderers?”

“
Que oui
,” he replied laconically,
arching a brow. “Know where I can find some?”

“I know of a few.” I’d heard rumors, at
least. Surely the waterfront girls could name a few scoundrels the
world would be better off with out.

“One for each night this week? This year?
Don’t be ridiculous.” Theo leaned back in his chair, crossing his
arms about his slim torso. “And anyway, is that your idea of
justice?” Before I could reply, he scowled and waved a hand. “Never
mind. It’s no use trying to explain it philosophically when
instinct will do the job. But if you find yourself in knots about
it tonight, just trust that you’ll understand soon enough. You’ll
be a vampire. You won’t feel the kinship you feel now with these
creatures.”

I shook my head and kept on eating, feeling
more lost than ever. Theo had shot down my arguments without
batting an eye, but I wasn’t any more comfortable for it.

“Merde,” Theo sighed. “You are a wreck. I
told him to be quick about it. Why does no one ever listen to
me?”

“Why?” I asked simply. “Why won’t he do
it?”

When there was no immediate reply, I looked
up from my plate to find Theo frowning at the lamp. In that moment,
his unearthly eyes reminded me not of sapphires, but of the blue at
the base of a candle flame, vivid and haunting. Then he shook his
head and looked at me seriously.

“You must forgive him,” Theo said. “He has
his reasons.”

“What reasons?” Though the last thing I
wanted to do was speak carelessly of Merrick—God forbid I should
give Theo cause to question my devotion—I was at the end of my
rope, and the words spilled out uncontrollably. “What reasons could
he have? I made the choice, I staked my life; it’s as good as done!
Why prolong this misery for everyone? Why not get on with it?”

“He has his reasons,” Theo repeated slowly.
“You already know he thinks it immoral.” The vampire’s lips curled
on the word as though it tasted sour. “But rest easy. This will
transform him as much as you. That’s what he really dreads, you
know. The man dreads happiness like the rest of us fear death.
You’ve suffered from his eccentricities, I know, but you must
forgive him.”

“I bear no grudge.” I bit my tongue, but
couldn’t hold back. “Does he? For forcing this upon him?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Theo’s scowl returned. “I
get all the blame.”

“Why?”

His angelic features darkened further for a
moment, but then the haughtiness returned with a dismissive flick
of his slender hand. “Take my word for a few things. It’s beyond
your comprehension.”

“Try me.”

“Right,” Theo scoffed. “And later I’ll read
Rousseau to the pigeons.”

“Fine,” I muttered, and stabbed a chunk of
carrot. What was the use? I knew Theo wouldn’t entertain the
possibility that we’d done Merrick wrong. And why would I want him
to? I didn’t really believe it would have been better to let
Merrick kill himself. Maybe we were selfish to keep him alive, but
that didn’t mean we were wrong.

But if he still disagreed after all this, if
he still felt betrayed...

“Ugh,
merde
, your gloom is
contagious.” Theo tossed back his drink and slapped his hands
lightly down on either corner of the table, looking at me with the
plainest expression I’d yet seen on his porcelain face. “You’re
doing a good thing, William Lacy. That’s all I wanted to tell you.
This is what he wants. This will save his soul. And you will
love—love—this life with him.”

My heart quivered, and I found myself hanging
onto every word. What else was there to do, but to nod with all the
certainty I could muster?

Theo nodded firmly in return, a determined
gleam in his eyes. “So march through that door with your sweet
little heart on a platter and tell him this is what you want. Tell
him and tell him and tell him until he does it. Understand? Enough
of this. Enough!”

“Right.” As his words soaked in, I found
myself rather transfixed by the earnest look in his eyes. It was so
unlike him, and so penetrating. For a moment I even felt a bond
like friendship between us. But then a strange flash of surprise
came over his eyes, and shaking his head, he looked down. “Right,”
I said again, perplexed by the awkward moment, but more concerned
with leaning into what he’d said. The conviction in his words did
lift my spirits. “Well, I remain at the ready.”

“Good.” Theo seemed somewhat reassured, as
well. “If that’s the case, this should all be behind us soon.” His
eyes drifted over to the coffee-man, who was waiting on another
patron, and he yawned lightly. Did vampires yawn? Christ, I was
still in the dark.

The place had grown crowded since we’d walked
in, and the air was stifling. I had eaten enough. I reached for my
wallet.

"Please, morsel," Theo said dryly, holding up
a hand to stop me. "Allow me the honor."

I nodded and rose from the table. "Thank
you."

"Is this goodbye?"

"One can dream," I said, straightening my
cuffs.

Theo smirked. "I suppose I'll see you on the
other side, then. I assume you can survive the trip to Boston
without me.”

Boston? I squinted at him and shrugged
slightly, not following.

Theo gave his most theatrical look of
surprise, his blue eyes widening as his mouth formed a dainty O.
"Oh, how silly of me! Why, I was so swept up in your company I
neglected to tell you..." He reached into his jacket. "...I picked
this up on the way into the house."

My face went smooth. For a moment I could
only stare at the folded letter in his hand, at the broken seal, at
his delighted little smile. A chain of curses passed through my
mind, but finding none sufficient, I only shook my head. Theo began
to wag the paper at me and I snatched it out of his hand, turning
on my heel.

"Safe travels, friend!" he called after me,
his Virginia drawl exaggerated to its limits.

It was still raining when I stalked out onto
the porch. I leaned against the corner post, watching it fall on
the cobblestones, clutching the letter to my chest as if to cover a
wound. I should wait to read it, I thought, until I was far away
from Theo and his venomous prattle—but I could not bear another
moment.

The sight of Merrick's elegant script made me
bite my lip.

My friend,

I hope you will come by to find this letter
before long, and forgive the sudden change in plans.

My heart dropped, but I read on.

Tomorrow I leave for Boston, where I dearly
hope you will join me as soon as you are able. As promised, there
will be no further delay: our business will commence on the evening
of your arrival. I have made the preparations necessary to attend
to this matter with all the concern it is due. Though I cannot hope
to put your heart at ease after all that has yet transpired, I must
assure you that I intend to support you in the most devoted
capacity.

Here the formal veneer began to flake away,
and with each word I felt a most exquisite confidence gathering in
my breast.

All Miseries must come to an end. Forgive my
airs of suffering, my dear friend. I could fill pages with my
torments of late, but in truth there is no greater pain than
knowing how many unhappy thoughts I have inflicted upon your
faithful soul. Have I any right to wish for your company? These
past weeks have been haunted by visions of last Summer—my quill is
poised to trace the details. Yet I can say nothing until I have
made amends to your friendship, and I cannot begin until you are in
my arms. Then there will nothing in the World of sufficient concern
to divert me from the endeavor.

Thank God! The declarations were all I had
longed for. My heart soared as I read those lines again, and I let
out a long sigh.

Avail yourself freely of the funds that
remain in Greenwich—you know where they are kept. Spare no expense
to book a comfortable cabin, and do not refuse it, for I’ve already
relinquished it. Buy a suit or a dozen books—whatever is left you
can hand out to Boston's urchins, if you like.

Forgive the brevity of this letter—I am ever
asking your Forgiveness—but it is difficult even to write you, as
the very act only sharpens your absence. I am a fool to have left
you. In the hope of seeing you within the week, I remain

Your devoted friend,

Silas

I folded the letter up, put it in my pocket,
and glanced back through the open doors of the coffee shop. The
table where I’d left Theo was vacant now. I did not look for the
coffee-man.

That was it.

That was all.

I was ready.

And so it was that on Tuesday evening, the
day after I’d received Merrick’s letter, I set out for the
waterfront to bid my life goodbye. By my side, of course was
Jeremy, who insisted on seeing me off. The summer heat had eased
its soggy weight from the city that day, giving us the chance to
enjoy the clear sky and the salty air that flowed up all the
streets of lower Manhattan from the East River. But still we
dragged our feet, sauntering more slowly than we’d ever done,
silently making the most of our last moments together.

Of course, Jeremy only feared that would be
the case. On the other hand, I knew for a fact that I would not see
him again; at least not as I was, and hopefully not as I was soon
to be. So when he spoke of my journey as if I would return, my
heart felt torn to rags and my eyes felt continually pricked by
tears. And he was making every effort to be lighthearted, setting
aside his own thoughts on the matter to send me off in good cheer.
God, I’d miss him.

“I always thought we might go off together,”
Jeremy said. “When we were little. I thought we’d join a whaling
crew.”

“I know,” I managed a laugh. “We talked about
it every day until, what? Last year?”

“Not too late. I’m already sick of this dump
just at the thought of you leavin’ again. It’s so boring when
you’re not here, you can’t imagine it.”

“It’s not so bad. Now that I’m on the way
out.” It was always our habit to complain about being trapped in
New York, having never been anywhere else but always surrounded by
foreigners and travelers of every class and breed. In truth we both
knew it was a grand place, and indeed, I’d never been so fond of it
as I was now that I was leaving.

“It’ll be a whole new mess by the time you’re
back. The way they’re mucking up the ponds and what-have-you.”

“Well, if it’s rotten then we’ll go West,” I
offered, my chest tight.

“There’s an idea,” he said with an approving
nod. Then, seeing my expression, he let out a sigh and slung his
arm about my shoulders. I hung my arm around his in return, and we
walked that way like two unusually steady drunks.

“You’ll look out for my mother,” I said. I
hardly needed to phrase it as a question. She’d been like a mother
to him, as well. “And if I should not return…”

“I’ll send the Navy after you. Every ship in
the fleet.” His arm tightened around me. “You’ll be all right,
Lacy. But if you don’t return, I’ll look after everything you’d
want looked after.”

“Yourself included.”

“Goes without sayin’, doesn’t it?”

We stopped on the corner of Fulton and Pearl,
almost within view of South Street and the port. Already we could
hear the shouts of the sailors and passengers, the loud commotion
of cargo being handled. But before we made a line for the ship that
would carry me away, there was one more goodbye to make.

My mother was coming up Pearl Street just
then, walking beneath the shade of the trees that fronted the rows
of houses, smiling at us both. She was dressed in her favorite blue
dress and matching cap, which flattered her willowy figure and
brought out the warmest tones of her Seneca skin. No one in the
world had a lovelier mother than Annabelle Lacy, or a kinder one,
or stronger. I closed the distance between us and took her in my
arms.

“Finally a great adventure,” she sighed, and
when she pulled away I saw her eyes were sparkling with happiness
despite the sheen of tears. She gripped my shoulders, smiling
gently. “You must make the most of it. I know you will.”

“I will,” I said, my voice thick with emotion
as I took my last look of her lovely face.