My Love Eternal
Page 20
“All right then, Sonny, how about you come outside with us to the yard? You can play while Rachel and I talk about some adult things? Is that okay with you?”
He nodded, and as we stood up he slipped his small hand into mine. We led him to the solarium, where an additional door existed. The air in our yard was warm and heavy with the perfume of many different plants. From the terrace a curved staircase spiralled down to the manicured lawn below. I led him down and showed him the many gardens, statues and fountains. I left him there with a reassuring gesture to where Giovanni sat on the terrace in clear view of the lawns where we stood. Returning to my love, we took a seat on one of the stone benches.
“Well, this is quite a predicament that we have found ourselves in.”
“Yes. I hope, well, that you’re not too angry about the boy. I can’t explain it, but I just couldn’t leave him there in the woods.”
“I do understand, Rachel. Part of the reason I was drawn to you is because you have as much kindness in you as you do vengeance. It’s just the timing of it all. On the very night my maker chooses to appear after nearly three centuries of silence this boy is thrust into our lives. It’s a strange coincidence.”
“Well, maybe he had to come back into your life to put the events into motion that needed to happen so I could meet this boy. Maybe, for some reason, I’m supposed to be this boy’s saviour, or he ours.”
I watched his face as he pondered my words, and I was struck very powerfully by just how beautiful Giovanni really was. He seemed to weigh my words very seriously before he spoke again. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”
“You’re probably right. I think that we all have much to give to each other. We all come from places of darkness, but perhaps we could bring some light into each other’s lives.”
“Figuratively speaking of course,” he teased, making me laugh. “Well, the most pressing issue is then my maker’s reappearance and what exactly it means.”
“What happened after I left?”
Shame flickered across his face. “After you fled, I was able to break free from his hold. I can’t tell you how frightened I was. He is very powerful, and his grip on my mind was like a steel trap. The thought of you being harmed forced more power out of me than I was aware I was capable of. He seemed surprised that I managed to shake him off, and I used that opportunity to attack. I lunged at him and he struggled for a few moments before he finally pulled away. We stopped at a tentative truce while I agreed to hear him speak.”
“What did he have to say?”
“It’s more what he did not say that was telling. He told me that the Desmarais were close to catching up with us, and that when they finally did, he didn’t think I would be able to survive. He said that in addition to tracking me for the past three hundred years, the family has been conducting research into the best way to destroy vampires. Apparently they have caught a few newly made vampires and have tested various methods to control and kill them. If he knew more than that, if he had any specifics, he was not sharing. I don’t know what to make of it. If he has been watching me, and us, all this time as he said he has, why warn me now? If something really has changed, if the Desmarais have discovered some powerful tool to destroy us, then why not tell me about it so we could be prepared? It just seems like more games, and yet if I don’t take him seriously, it might be to our detriment.”
“So he seems to be helping, but only until a certain point?”
“Exactly, and for what purpose? I don’t see him doing anything unless he is somehow going to benefit from it, and how does this help him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he fears them going after him eventually, you know, because he made you a vampire, which in their eyes led directly to Seraphine’s death.”
“Perhaps. I do not think we will ever be sure of his true motives, but perhaps this does indicate it is now time to move on.”
I felt an immense sadness at his words, even though I knew he was right. Still, this house was the only real home we had known since the start of our journey together. If the Desmarais were near, then we were all in danger. The safest course of action was to be proactive, putting distance between us and our pursuers.
“I’m going to make some calls and get some things going.” He stood, but stopped at the threshold to the house. “Don’t worry, though, we can come back here again in another life.”
I smiled sadly. I remained to watched Sonny frolic about the yard. He seemed normal then, moving from section to section to smell flowers or climb on one of the many statues dotting the yard. I watched with amusement as he dipped his hand into the fishpond then snatched it back when a giant goldfish rose looking for food. His delight when he realised one of the fountains was filled by a cherubic-looking boy “peeing” into the basin was beyond hilarious.
Looking out at the boy as he wandered about, I suddenly knew with absolute certainty he was a part of our life forever. Wherever our adventures might take us, he would be there, but what would happen when he was no longer a boy? Would we have to part ways, keeping watch over him from afar? Or would his existence have to join ours in every sense of the word? Looking at his sweet face and the innocence he still clung to, I couldn’t bear the thought of him becoming one of us. That was something that would be dealt with if and when the situation presented itself.
About an hour later, Giovanni returned. He brought with him his sketchbook, and I saw with relief that he was smiling. I could only assume his plans had gone smoothly and he had found somewhere for us to relocate to.
“Feel like joining Sonny in the garden?” He indicated the book he held.
“Sure.” It had been some time since I had posed for him.
“I thought I could make a sketch of the two of you in the garden for a keepsake?”
“That’s a wonderful idea.”
We sat on a bench, surrounded by nature’s beauty, while Giovanni captured that moment in time with his talented hands. Even in the rough stages, the picture showed the two of us and the garden backdrop as a perfect likeness. It was sad that a talent as great as Giovanni’s should to be kept hidden. I would have liked to find a way to share his art with the rest of the world, without drawing too much unwanted attention in our direction. He had vast inventories of works stored at various homes, and other facilities about the world, which showcased the many people whose lives he had crossed, and the many eras he had lived through. His works displayed his love for the art and his interest in his various subjects.
We passed the rest of the night reading with the boy and watching movies. With each hour, our comfort with each other grew. My heart opened even wider, accepting an odd contentment that came with that growing love.
After the boy was tucked away safely in his bed, we too settled down to slumber. With Giovanni’s arm tight and comfortingly around my body, I let my mind wander. He spoke to me briefly about where were headed, saying only that “eventually” we would end up in England. I was pleasantly surprised, since I had always wanted to see Great Britain, the home of my family’s ancestors. I had high hopes for the start of a new life there.
“What are you thinking?” Giovanni’s voice was a caress, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I was thinking about what it will be like in a new country, a new home and with a new member to our family.”
“Family? Is that what we are now?”
“I think so… that’s what it feels like anyway. This all may have started from something traumatic and difficult, but now all the pieces are falling into place, and it feels as if this is how it’s meant to be.”
“I hope this boy won’t change things between us, and I don’t mean that to sound like some petty jealousy, but change is change. No matter how subtle or positive it may seem, the consequences down the road could be immense.”
“If anything, this boy is going to bring us closer together. We have a unifying cause to fight for, something outside of our love for each other. I think it’s going to be awesome.”
A sudden troubling thought gripped me. “Do you think Sonny will be safe with us? With the Desmarais out there?”
“They are after me and, to a lesser extent, the general vampire population. I don’t think these are the type of people to kill a child in cold blood. If anything, I imagine that they would try to rescue him.”
I didn’t say anything to that, because, really, what was there to say? Yes we were monsters, and yes we caused death and suffering, but was what they were doing any different? Were they not also destroying lives? Perhaps we were not “alive” in the traditional sense, but we moved, had feelings and thoughts, dreams and desires. Did they really think there would be no consequence to their actions or their beliefs? Giovanni was right about one thing. He was a boy, just an innocent little boy.
Chapter 15
The next few days passed in a blur of activity. We packed up the house, sending various items on to other properties or into storage in England, for when we eventually arrived there. We talked with our staff about keeping the property clean and grounds manicured. We made arrangements with a local property management company to rent the house— for a generous commission I might add— and to keep it under close surveillance when it was empty. All money generated from rent would be passed on to one of Giovanni’s various money managers in another part of Europe.
We also contacted one of Giovanni’s less-than-legal business associates to secure passports for the three of us. We had put the deed off for a few days, hoping that the boy might start to speak, and give us his real name, but pressed for time we were forced to have him identified as Sonny. Soon enough these identities would be discarded and, I hoped, by then we would have made some progress with the boy.
Both of us kept a wary and watchful eye out for Giovanni’s maker and the Desmarais family. We were able to secure some recent photos of the family members as well as known associates, so at least we could be fairly certain as to whom we were watching for. Sonny simply took it all in his stride. When I explained that we needed to leave, he nodded his understanding, but did not indicate that he was upset in any way. In fact, he seemed quite excited to pack up his own trunks and luggage with new clothing, toys and books. He was delighted when he accompanied Giovanni and me to make arrangements for a crew to manage our yacht.
The night we left, we stood on the deck as the soft spray of water from the sea danced across our skin. We watched until the coast was far out of sight, and the only thing visible was dark water and a smoky sky filled with stars. It would take us about two days to reach the western coast of Turkey, to the small province of Canakkale, where Giovanni had a safe house for us to rest and access funds for the next leg of our adventure.
I was sorry that our stay there would be brief, as everything I had read and seen of the area described a land with a rich history and heritage. Perhaps another time we might have more leisure to explore that intriguing part of the world. Due to its strategic location astride two continents, Turkey’s culture was a unique blend of Eastern and Western traditions. The Anatolian peninsula— also called Asia Minor— comprising most of modern Turkey, was one of the oldest continually inhabited regions in the world due to its location at the intersection of Asia and Europe. I itched to explore its many historical sites and speak with people, but knew that it was not to be.
We ended up staying but one night, in a small home Giovanni owned under another name. It was kept by an associate of his who was paid handsomely to make sure it was available and secure at a moment’s notice. From there we took an overnight train to the northern side of the country, to the edge of the Black Sea, which seemed aptly named considering the type of visitors we were. After that it was a series of trains and airplanes, with intermittent, brief stops along the way until we found ourselves in western Asia. We passed through Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, finally arriving in India.
We stayed there for a few weeks, allowing me to indulge in my obsession with experiencing history and culture in an intimate way. As we meandered through the various states, I was able to see the paintings at the Ajanta Caves in Aurangabad, Maharashtra, the beautiful and indescribably affecting Taj Mahal, the Kalikamata Temple on top of the Pavagadh Hill in Champaner-Pavagadh Archaeological Park, the Majestic Kandariya Mahadev Temple at The Khajuraho group of temples. We took in the Bhimbetka rock shelters located in the Raisen district, in the state of Madhya Pradesh, which exhibited the earliest traces of human life in India. Its Stone Age rock paintings were approximately nine thousand years old. And, of course we visited Bollywood, enjoying the movies and the beautiful people involved in their creation. There were too many festivals, celebrations and visits to live theatre to mention by name, and all the while that we were taking in the sights and enjoying the culture, Sonny said not one word.
While on our travels through India, I had many occasions to read about the culture, and to even speak directly with people who had knowledge of the country’s long history. There were many ancient beliefs about creatures that returned from the dead to drink the blood of the living. I was introduced to the story of the Bhuta, who is the soul of a man who died an untimely death. It wandered around animating dead bodies at night and attacked the living like a ghoul. In northern India I was told of the brahmaparusha, a vampire-like creature with a head encircled by intestines and a skull from which it drank blood.
Yet the most famous Indian vampire was Kali, who had fangs and four arms, and who wore a garland of corpses or skulls. Her temples were near the cremation grounds. She and the goddess Durga battled the demon Raktabija, who could reproduce himself from each drop of blood spilled. Kali drank all his blood so none was spilled, thereby winning the battle and killing Raktabija. Of all I heard there were many intriguing and fantastical stories, but no verifiable information or concrete proof of our origins.
One evening, as I was out alone hunting, a cold, unnatural feeling whispered at my back, warning me of another immortal in the vicinity. It had been quite some time since we’d crossed paths with any others of our kind, and I was taken by surprise. I hurried along the crowed streets, moving toward a less populated area of the city. I ducked inside an empty alley and waited.
Someone stopped at the mouth of the dark alley, and I could tell by their energy that they were not human. He was a tall man, and the moon was bright behind his lanky frame. He caught sight of me, and as he moved closer I realised this was someone I’d met before. I remembered the breed of fear he invoked all too well.
This time, Giovanni’s maker was dressed rather sharply, in a tailored suit and expensive shoes. He smelled of lemons and blood. He had brushed his thin blond hair back, accentuating the sharp lines of his face. His smile was still Death personified.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“The same as you. Hunting.” His voice was surprisingly soft.
“You just happen to be in the exact same city as us. I find that hard to believe.”
He looked ready to say something nasty then seemed to bite it back at the last second. “Think what you will. I’m not here to bother you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, but he was already back at the end of the alley.
And like that, he was gone.
I told Giovanni about the encounter as soon as I returned. He was understandably upset, and set about moving us to a new location as quickly as possible. More games? Yet something about this meeting seemed different. He hadn’t been aggressive, or even hostile. If I hadn’t known any better, I might have thought he seemed a little bit concerned.
From India we crossed into southern China, making sure to stop at one of the sections of the Great Wall. One cannot help but feel in awe, while standing on the immense structure and looking out over the landscape. I was moved by the genius and incredible amount of hard work it must have taken to see the project thr
ough to fruition.
On to the east we travelled, until we entered Japan, which would become our home of sorts for several months. Giovanni owned a beautiful home in the country, and had many investments and business partners working in that corner of the world. It was a culture shock for sure, as many of the countries we visited had been, but one that I fondly adapted to. Life was frenetic there, the streets swarming with humanity.
One particular evening, Sonny and I were walking along the streets, as the throngs rushed by us. Sonny stopped in front of a large display window of a popular bookstore, eyeing the many children’s books with interest. We entered, immediately zeroing in on the sparsely filled children’s area. It was close to the time that the store would close. Sonny wandered around, returning again and again to a book with a scene of fishermen on the front.
“Did you want this one, Sonny, with the fishermen on the front?”
“They’re not fishermen. They’re sailors.”
“Oh, I see. They’re sail— ” I looked from the book to Sonny, and my body tightened with shock. Did I just hear what I thought I heard? The book fell from my fingers as I realised the truth. I reached down and picked it up, trying to be nonchalant. I hoped I didn’t spook him back into silence.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“See how they’re dressed? They have uniforms on.”
“You’re absolutely right. They are sailors. How silly of me.” I tried to keep too much emotion from creeping into my voice, and I deliberately did not comment that he had uttered his first words in months. I didn’t want to do anything that might make him retreat into the perceived safety of his silence again.
We paid for the book then rushed home as quickly as possible without appearing frantic. Giovanni had been out earlier to meet with a business associate who was in town from Hong Kong, but I thought he should have been finished. We found him in our home’s office, going over sheets of financial information.