Then she was introduced to André, also in French. Her voice softened as she spoke to him. Her eyes held his. She extended a hand, which he took and clasped between his and kissed.
Suddenly Michael raced into the room. “André! André! I got an idea. Listen!”
André caught the boy, turned him towards the visitor and introduced him in French. Michael looked at the woman and she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling, her face filled with delight.
“Mon petit enfant naturel. Come,” she said, bending from the waist, opening her arms to him.
Michael took two steps into her embrace. She held him as though he were delicate. Carol watched the look of complete bliss on her face as she pressed him to her.
But Michael disengaged himself quickly. “Who’re you?”
The woman smiled. “I am Morianna, as your father told you. And you are Michel, André’s son, yes?”
“And Carol’s,” the boy said. Carol felt a lump in her throat. “She’s gonna be one of us soon.”
Everyone stared at Michael. André said, “What made you say that, Michel?”
“Well, I want you to change her.”
“I told you this would happen.” Karl sounded irritated.
Chloe said, “Michel, that may not be possible.”
The boy looked obstinate. “It is. André can do it.”
He ran across the room and stood in front of Gerlinde. “And I want him to!” Michael folded his arms over his chest in stubborn defiance.
“Because you want it doesn’t mean it will be,” Karl said.
“André may not want to,” Gerlinde added. She put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“He has to!” the boy announced.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” André asked.
“If you don’t change her, I’ll become mortal.”
“Like mother and father, like son,” Gerlinde mumbled. No one else said a word for several seconds.
Carol was startled. She loved Michael so much she tried to overlook his attitude. It was because he loved her that he wanted this. And she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t go along with it.
“Michel! Get over here! Now!” André said.
Carol looked at André and her heart raced. His body emitted waves of fury. She became frightened for her son. She stood up and started to move towards Michael, to shield him, but André turned on her, his eyes menacing. He pointed a finger at her. “Stay out of this!”
She stopped but stood ready. If he tries to hurt Michael I’m going to protect my baby, she assured herself.
“I said come over here!”
Gerlinde took her hand away from Michael. The boy looked wide open, upset, frightened. His eyes had widened, his lips parted. Slowly he walked towards André.
Carol prepared to act.
When Michael was right in front of him, André squatted down and grabbed him by the shoulders, his face stern, his voice angry. “Michel, don’t try to blackmail me! I won’t put up with it! It’s all right for you to want what you want, but don’t you ever threaten me again. Understand?” He gave the boy’s shoulders a little shake for emphasis.
Michael’s eyes became even wider than before. He stared at André as though terrified. Then suddenly he flung his arms around his father’s neck and cried.
André held him tightly, cradling the boy in his arms, kissing his hair.
“I just want my mother here too!” Michael wailed. “Please, Papa, make her like us so she can stay and not die and leave us.”
Carol felt her heart breaking. She wanted more than anything to hug them both but was afraid to move because what was happening was so precious.
Michael’s crying stopped.
But the moment André stood up, Morianna confronted him in English.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Would you do it? For the boy?”
André was quiet and Carol thought she could have heard a pin drop. Finally he said, “I don’t know. Possibly.”
“And do you think you could for his sake alone?”
“Probably not.”
“And yet together you formed l’enfant de l’amour,” she said, her voice complex, rich, reminding Carol of a full orchestra.
André said nothing. Suddenly Morianna turned to Carol.
“Would you become one of us?”
Carol hesitated.
Morianna’s eyes penetrated deeply into hers until Carol felt she would faint from the intensity of the contact. But then she sensed Michael by her side. He took her hand and she looked down at him and smiled. “If it’s the only way I can be with Michael, yes.”
Morianna turned away from them and looked at the others in the room. “Julien, what do you think?”
“I believe there is more here than words make apparent.”
“I agree,” she said, turning back to André.
“I know you,” she said simply. Carol saw André’s jaw tighten, as though his teeth were being clamped together. “It is not always so difficult.”
André turned away. He walked past Carol and Michael to the fireplace. He shoved the screen aside then threw in a couple of logs, poking them aggressively until they fell into place.
When he’d finished he pulled the screen back across and straightened up, still holding the poker. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying help is available.”
“What help?”
“The benefit of our collective experience.”
André sneered. He slammed the poker back into its stand.
The sound of metal angrily clanked against metal.
“And the ritual. It may be foreign to you but has worked in the past. Julien knows. And Chloe understands. We can aid you.”
André crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He looked angry but also upset.
“Can you accept this?” Morianna asked.
“I’m not sure.” But then he looked at Michael and Carol. She had her arms around the boy’s neck as he stood in front of her.
“Oui.” His voice was strained. Carol had never seen him this way and was fascinated to watch the conflict tumbling his emotions. He seems more real to me, she thought.
Morianna turned and said, “And, Julien, we will work together?”
Julien nodded.
“And Chloe? Sister.” She held out her hands.
“I’m honored,” Chloe said, taking them.
The three left the room immediately. As soon as they were gone André stormed out. Karl took Michael and left too, leaving Carol alone with Gerlinde and Jeanette.
“What’s going on?” Carol asked, totally bewildered.
Jeanette sat down on the couch. “There are ancient rites.
They aren’t used anymore, but sometimes, when there’s ambivalence...”
“What do you mean?”
Gerlinde said, “Because you’re both so unsure—you and André.”
Jeanette continued. “The three act as elders, I guess you’d call them. They’ll figure out a ritual so that the transformation process can be contained. Otherwise it will be a disaster.”
“But why?”
“Because it takes a strong emotion to effect the change.”
“Kiddo, you don’t know how hard it is,” Gerlinde told her.
I’ve never been motivated. That’s why there aren’t that many of us.”
“It can be done out of love, or hate,” Jeanette said. “I once created another because I was extremely lonely. But to do it because Michel wants it, that wouldn’t be a strong enough reason for André. He admitted it.”
I don’t think so. I don’t know anymore.” She held her head.
“It ain’t just that,” Gerlinde said.
“What else?”
“Well, for André there’s something more involved.”
“Are you going to tell me?” Carol asked, irritated. This is all getting to be too much, she thought. First they offer me immortality and then tell me how impossible it is. And they’re vague besides.
“Well, even if André loves you, it still might not work.”
“But why?”
Gerlinde said nothing and Jeanette looked at the fire.
“Has he ever tried to do it before?” Carol asked.
Gerlinde’s brown eyes met Carol’s and her lips formed a kind of tortured grin. “Twice.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what happened?” Carol asked impatiently.
“Kiddo, you don’t want to know.”
“Tell me.”
“Tragedy. Both times.”
“How?”
Gerlinde turned away. “He ripped their throats out.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
While Morianna, Julien and Chloe consulted together, a pensive silence hung over the house. Midnight came and went, then one, then two a.m. Carol spent an hour with Michael watching him and Karl organizing chemicals in jars and boxes, but they weren’t paying much attention to her and she was too worried to participate. She wondered what she’d gotten herself into.
Obviously the locket and handkerchief were all that remained of André’s two former lovers. But what she found even more disturbing was that by placing reminders of her along with them, André had already relegated her to the position of a memory.
Julien had changed Jeanette. And Chloe had changed André. She wondered why André couldn’t do it. There were moments, like last night, when she felt he loved her a little and that the love could grow. But maybe that was just sex or romance and her need to be with Michael let her fool herself.
But more than all this, she wondered if she had just verbally signed her own death warrant.
At three in the morning Gerlinde’s cell phone rang. Carol was still in the living room, now with Karl as well as Jeanette, Gerlinde and Michael. Gerlinde turned it on but didn’t say a word. Then: “It’s for you,” a strained look on her face. She handed the phone to Carol.
Carol took the phone reluctantly. “Carol, are you really alright?” Rene’s voice sounded odd, as if she’d been drinking heavily.
“Rene, yes, I told you I was. Why are you calling, and at this hour?” The others watched her and she felt nervous—now they all would know, including André. And she knew they could hear everything Rene said.
“Oh, Carol, you’ve found them. You’ve found the vampires!”
“Yes. Look, this is not a good time to talk. I’ll be in touch in a little while.”
“Do they really live forever and never grow old?”
“Rene, please, I’ve got to go. I’m fine, really. Everything is fine. Take care. I’ll call you soon, I promise.”
When she hung up, Carol faced the others.
“All our cell numbers are blocked,” Karl said, his voice tight. “How did she get Gerlinde’s number?”
“I... I don’t know. I didn’t give it to her,” Carol said.
“Gerlinde, you know I didn’t give it to her.”
Gerlinde looked uneasy.
“What else do you know?” Karl asked Gerlinde.
The redhead crossed her slim legs, and her arms over her chest. “I kinda let Carol make a phone call. So this woman wouldn’t bother us. Maybe she knows some techie somewhere that helped her trace an untraceable number.”
Karl stood, his body was tense. “Kommen sie mit mer!”
He left the room with Gerlinde following him and looking both guilty and nervous.
Carol sat down. She was worried. This wasn’t like Rene. The call was so odd. And such bad timing, too. Now Carol had gotten Gerlinde into trouble with the others. And herself. She didn’t know what to do. Suddenly she looked up. Jeanette was staring at her. She felt she had to say something. “Rene’s harmless. I’ll call again soon. Keep her reassured.”
“They’ll have to dispose of all the cell phones,” Jeanette said. “And move. Maybe leave Montréal. This puts everyone in danger.”
Carol didn’t know what to say.
About five in the morning Carol went into the kitchen to make herself something to eat. She had finished a meal of brown rice, Brussels sprouts, carrots and a small T-bone, and was just pouring a cup of herbal tea when André appeared at the door coming up from the basement. He looked terrible, tight and restrained.
“André, can I talk with you?” He stopped and stared at her. Something in his face told her to be careful and now she regretted stopping him.
“I... just wanted you to know I loved the way you dealt with Michael. You’re very caring towards him.”
He said nothing, just continued staring.
She sat down on a stool across the counter from him. She took a sip of tea. It was too hot and burned her upper lip, forcing awareness of how nervous he was making her feel.
“You gave out our address.”
“I... I’m sorry. She’s my therapist. She was worried. Gerlinde let me use the phone so I could assure her I was okay and—”
“And you gave Michel the idea, didn’t you?”
This took her totally by surprise, so much so that at first she couldn’t answer him. She spilled a little tea putting the cup down. “No. What makes you think that?”
“Who else?”
“But you or one of the others was always with us. How could I? I didn’t. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Why should I believe you?” He looked angry and she was startled by this turnaround of his feelings towards her.
“Why shouldn’t you?” she said in a small voice.
“Are you joking? Do you want a list?” He took two steps towards the counter, gripping the edge so hard his knuckles went white. A warning bell went off in Carol’s head. “First, you think you’ll kill me with a virus. Then you try to kill me with a stake through my heart.”
“I didn’t. I told you—”
“And you ran away—twice! And kidnapped Michel. And now you’ve betrayed us, made us vulnerable to the outside world. And you fed Michel milk when he was born. Now he’s having a hard time deciding—”
“You’re putting things together. Surely you can understand why—”
“Yes, I understand! I see you clearly, what a liar you are!”
His voice was growing louder, his face paler. He seemed to be altering, becoming less human, more animal-like, and Carol felt frightened. “André, calm down, you’re getting—”
“Don’t patronize me, bitch!” Suddenly his arm shot out and swept the teapot, cup and saucer across the counter and onto the floor where they smashed against the tiles.
Carol jumped to her feet, shaking with fear. She took several steps back. He picked up the stool she’d been sitting on and hurled it across the kitchen. It slammed into the wall and broke apart.
“André!” He spun around to the door where Jeanette stood. “They’re ready,” she told him.
He stormed past her and out of the kitchen.
Carol began to shake uncontrollably now. She hugged herself and looked at Jeanette. “He’s crazy! He’ll kill me.”
Jeanette walked over and put an arm around her shoulders.
“You’ve got to stand up to him, Carol.”
“Oh, sure!” Her eyes filled with tears. “Easy for you to say. He’s so much stronger than me. He can snap me in half like a pencil.”
Jeanette smiled a little. “After you’ve changed you’ll be more equal physically, and in other ways too.”
“I’ll never get that far. I’ll be dead, pulverized by an enraged madman.”
“You don’t have to take him on physically. Try responding.”
“But it’s always been like this. Whenever I start to say anything reasonable he tries to hurt me.”
“Well, he might hurt you anyway. That’s no reason not to include yourself.”
“Right, either way I get a broken neck. But one way I die feeling like a doormat and the other I have the satisfaction of going out like a martyr.”
Carol started to pick up the pieces of the broken tea pot but Jeanette stopped her. “We’ll clean it
up later. Let’s go into the living room.”
Morianna sat on the large couch between Julien and Chloe.
André sat rigid in a chair across the table from them. Opposite the fireplace Gerlinde snuggled close to Karl in a loveseat. She held Michael on her other side. Jeanette and Carol took the other loveseat.
“I shall speak in English,” Morianna said, a slight nod towards Carol. She looked at André. “In five nights it will be the eve of a new year. Years ago on the day of the New Year, Michel was born. Soon he must make a decision that will alter the course of his existence. The moon will be full, which seems an auspicious time. And given recent developments—you may no longer be safe here—I believe we should proceed as quickly as possible. We three,” and here she looked at Julien and then Chloe, “feel that the giving and taking of the blood can best be accomplished, in your case, from a position of reverence.”
Carol noticed André’s jaw clench.
“We will detail the ritual as it proceeds. For now it is enough to know that on Friday you will go out and take sustenance, the last you will consume until completion. At midnight Friday the ritual begins. Throughout its duration you will give your blood to the woman until you are emptied. At midnight on Sunday, as the old year ends and the new begins, you may then reclaim the blood from her.”
André jumped to his feet. He looked totally startled.
“Three days? You want me to go without blood for three days?”
“It will not be as difficult as you imagine,” Morianna said.
Chloe added, “It won’t be like the other times, André. We’ve set it up for you.”
André looked at her, then at Morianna and finally at Julian. His face said it all—they had betrayed him. “Forget it!”
He turned and strode towards the door, but Julien beat him to it. “Va’t’en!” André shouted.
But Julien didn’t get out of his way, he just spoke softly in French. André argued, his voice loud, brimming with bitter fury, his fists clenched at his sides. But Julien persisted, despite the fact that André’s anger was escalating. Finally, in a moment so brief Carol could hardly trace it, André slammed his fist all the way through the solid oak, right beside Julien’s head. When he pulled it out of the shattered wood, his hand was bloody.
The anger had broken. André’s shoulders slumped and his body shook a little. He ran his undamaged hand through his hair. Julien continued as if nothing had happened, talking softly, reasonably, like a father explaining something to a frustrated son. He placed his hands on the sides of André’s face. André’s blood streaked fingers curled tentatively around Julien’s wrist. Julien continued talking.
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