The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle (The Vampire Chronicles)

Home > Other > The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle (The Vampire Chronicles) > Page 495
The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle (The Vampire Chronicles) Page 495

by Rice, Anne


  “But let me go on.

  “From the first night of my return, I have tried to increase my skill and learn my powers.

  “I control my telepathy around my family, and around everyone but my victims, really, because it feels obscene to me, and also it feels like noise.

  “I have traveled through the air, I have practiced speed. I have come and gone from the Hermitage to far-flung taverns and highway beer joints to hunt for drifters and Evil Doers, or to make a staple of the Little Drink, and I’ve been successful. Even when I’ve drunk my fill I’ve almost always left the victim alive. I’ve learned, as Arion said, to go with the evil, to make it part of myself for those important moments.

  “I never go to hunt before midnight, and of course Goblin always attacks right afterwards. I usually don’t come back to the house until his attack is over. I don’t want the family in any way disturbed by what Goblin means to do. But sometimes I miscalculate.

  “There have been no moral blunders on my part until tonight when I almost killed Stirling Oliver.

  “But Goblin’s attacks have grown ever more virulent, and as for communication with him, it is nil. He will say nothing to me. He seems to feel that in becoming what I am I have in some massive way betrayed him, and he will take from me what he wants—the blood. And no affection or conversation is needed.

  “Of course, he may also feel that he was betrayed by my long absence in Europe.

  “I’ve tried to talk to him, but to no avail. He seldom appears. He is present only right after I feed.

  “And during this last year, as I proved to myself that I could hunt, that I could survive, that I could live with Aunt Queen and Nash and with Jasmine, that I could be with my son, that I could sneak into the human world every night of my life and then pass out of it into my grave, Goblin has grown far stronger and far more vicious, and so at last I’ve come to you to beg your help, and I think I’ve come to you out of loneliness.

  “As I believe I’ve indicated, I know how to go back to Petronia but I don’t want to do it. I don’t want her sneering coldness. I don’t want even the softer indifference of Arion. As for the Old Man, though he would open his heart to me, he seems locked in his dotage. What do any of them know of a spirit like Goblin? I’ve come to you to help me. You’ve been with the spirits. I risked my life to do it.

  “I believe that Goblin is a menace not only to me but to others, and one characteristic is now certain—that he can travel with me wherever I go, no matter how far it is from Blackwood Farm.

  “He is attached to me in some new way, and perhaps it has to do with the Blood. In fact, I’m sure it has to do with the Blood. The Blood has given him a link to me that is stronger than his link to this place.

  “There very well may be a limit to the distance he can travel, but I myself can’t give up Blackwood Farm, that’s the rub. I can’t be away from those who need me. I don’t want to be away from them. And as a consequence I must battle Goblin here for my home, and for my life, if I’m to live it.

  “And I feel a great responsibility for Goblin. I feel that I created Goblin and that I nourished him and made him what he is. What if he should hurt someone else?

  “I have one last detail and my story is closed.

  “I have seen Petronia once since I left Naples. I was sitting in the Hermitage, amid all the shining marble and torchères, dreaming, thinking, brooding, I don’t know what exactly, feeling my unhappiness in a sort of spectacular way, when she came up the stairs, all dressed in a white three-piece suit with her hair loose and flying and full of chains of diamonds, and she gave me your books, which she had in a little dark green velvet sack.

  “ ‘These are the Vampire Chronicles,’ she said. ‘You need to read these and know these. We told you about them, but we don’t know if you listened. Remember. Don’t hunt New Orleans.’

  “ ‘Get out of here, I loathe and detest you,’ I said to her. ‘I told you our bargain is off. This place is mine!’ I stood up and ran at her and struck her hard across the face before she could get her wits about her. The blood flowed from her mouth where her fangs had cut her lip, and it soiled her white vest and she was furious. She slapped me hard this way and that before I could get back and be ready for it, and then she knocked me down and went to her trick of kicking me.

  “ ‘What a charming greeting,’ she said, ramming the toe of her boot over and over right between my ribs. ‘You are the epitome of the grateful child.’

  “I climbed to my knees, pretending to stagger and to be hurt, and then rose up and grabbed her hair and hung on to a hank of it with both hands so that she couldn’t shake me off, cursing her all the while. ‘Some night, I’ll make you pay,’ I said. ‘I’ll make you suffer for all your hateful blows, for the way that you did it, for the way you brought this curse on me.’

  “She clawed at me as I pulled her hair with both hands; she clawed at my head and dragged me off herself, so that I had hair in my fingers, and then she slammed me down on the floor and she kicked me across the room and against the wall. Then she sat down at the desk and with her face in her hands she sobbed. She sobbed and sobbed.

  “I climbed to my feet and slowly made my way towards her. I felt that tingling in all my limbs that meant the bruises she’d inflicted were healing. I saw bits and pieces of the diamond chains from her hair on the floor, and I gathered them all up, and I came to the desk where she cried and I laid them down where she might see them.

  “She had her face buried in her hands, and her hands were stained with blood.

  “ ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

  “She took her handkerchief out and wiped her face and her hands. Then she looked up at me, prettily.

  “ ‘Why should you be sorry?’ she asked. ‘It’s only natural for you to hate a creature like me. Why shouldn’t you?’

  “ ‘How so?’ I asked. I expected her at any moment to fly at me again.

  “ ‘Who should be made into creatures like us?’ she asked. ‘The wounded, the slave, the destitute, the dying. But you were a prince, a mortal prince. And I didn’t think twice about it.’

  “ ‘That’s true,’ I said.

  “ ‘And so you … you fool the fools?’ she asked gesturing with her right hand in a roving motion. ‘You live with your mortals lovingly around you?’

  “ ‘Yes, for now,’ I said.

  “ ‘Don’t be tempted to bring them over,’ she said.

  “ ‘I’m not tempted,’ I said. ‘I’d rather go straight to Hell than do it that way.’

  “She looked at the diamonds. I didn’t know what to do about them. I looked around. I had gotten them all. She picked up the strands and put them in one of her pockets. Her hair was mussed. I took out my comb. I gestured, Would she let me comb it? She said Yes, and so I did it. Her hair was thick and silky.

  “Finally she stood up to go. She took me in her arms and she kissed me.

  “ ‘Don’t run afoul of the Vampire Lestat,’ she said. ‘He won’t think twice about burning you to a cinder. And then I’d have to fight him and I’m not strong enough.’

  “ ‘That’s really true?’

  “ ‘I told you in Napoli to read the books,’ she said. ‘He’s drunk the blood of the Mother. He lay in the sands of the Gobi Desert for three days. Nothing can kill him. It wouldn’t even be fun to fight him. But just stay out of New Orleans and you don’t need to worry about him. There’s something ignoble about one as powerful as Lestat picking on one as young as you. He won’t come here to do it.’

  “ ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  “She walked towards the door as though she was making a graceful exit. I didn’t know whether or not she knew there was blood on her clothing. I didn’t know whether or not to tell her. Finally I did.

  “ ‘On your suit,’ I said, ‘blood.’

  “ ‘You just can’t resist white clothes, can you?’ she asked, but she didn’t seem angry. ‘Let me ask you something. And answer me truthfully or not at all. Why did you leave us
?’

  “I thought for a long moment. Then I said, ‘I wanted to be with my aunt. I had no real choice in the matter. And there were others. You know this already.’

  “ ‘But weren’t we interesting to you?’ she asked. ‘After all, you might have asked me to bring you home now and then. Surely you know my powers are very great.’

  “I shook my head.

  “ ‘I don’t blame you for turning your back on me,’ she said, ‘but to turn your back on one as wise as Arion? That seems rash to me.’

  “ ‘You’re probably right, but for now I have to be here. Then later perhaps I can bring my suit to Arion.’

  “She smiled. She shrugged. ‘Very well. I leave you the Hermitage, my boy,’ she said. And she was gone just as if she had vanished. And so our one brief visit ended.

  “And so my story is at an end.”

  44

  I sat there in silence. We had perhaps two hours before dawn, and I felt that all my life was pressed against my heart, and, though I was a sinner, I had not sinned in holding anything back. It was all laid out before me. I wondered if Goblin was near me in any form. I wondered whether or not he could have been listening.

  Lestat, who had been quiet this whole time, waited for a long moment in silence. Then he spoke up.

  “Your epilogue was very thorough, but you haven’t mentioned one person. What has become of Mona Mayfair?”

  I winced.

  “I have never received another E-mail or phone call from Mona, and for that I thank God. However, periodically Michael or Rowan will call. I find myself trembling as I listen. Will these powerful witches pick up something from the timbre of my voice? But it doesn’t seem so. They tell me the latest. Mona is in isolation. Mona is on dialysis. Mona is not in any pain.

  “About six months ago, maybe more, I received a typewritten letter from Rowan, written on behalf of Mona, explaining that Mona had had a hysterectomy, and that Mona wanted me to know. ‘Beloved Abelard, I release you from any and all promises,’ Mona had dictated to Rowan. They had hoped the operation would help Mona, but it hadn’t. Mona needed dialysis more and more often. There were still medications they could try.

  “My answer was to raid every flower shop in New Orleans, sending sprays and baskets and vases of flowers with notes that pledged my undying love, notes which I could dictate over the phone. I didn’t dare to send anything touched by my own hands. Mona could lay her hands on such a note and sense the evil in me. Just couldn’t take such a risk.

  “As it stands now, I still send the flowers almost daily. Now and then I break down and call. It’s always the same. Mona can’t see anyone just now. Mona is holding her own.

  “I think I actually dread the moment when they might say, ‘Come see her.’ I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist it and I won’t be able to fool Mona, and in those precious moments, perhaps our last precious moments, Mona’s mind will be clouded with some dim fear of what I’ve become. At the very least I’ll seem cold and passionless though my heart’s breaking. I dread it. I dread it with my whole soul.

  “But more than anything I dread the final call—the message that Mona has lost the fight, the word that Mona is gone.”

  Lestat nodded. He leaned on his elbow, his hair somewhat mussed, his large blue eyes looking at me compassionately as they had throughout the long hours of my storytelling.

  “What do you think is the point of the tale you’ve told?” he asked. “Aside from the fact that we must protect Aunt Queen from all harmful knowledge of what’s happened to you, and we must destroy Goblin?”

  “That I had a rich life,” I said. “As Petronia herself said it. And she didn’t care about that life. She took it capriciously and viciously.”

  Again he nodded. “But Quinn, immortality, no matter how one comes by it, is a gift, and you must lose your hatred of her. It poisons you.”

  “It’s like my hatred of Patsy,” I said quietly. “I need to lose my hatred of both of them. I need to lose all hatred, but right now it’s Goblin who needs destroying, and I’ve tried, out of fairness to him, to make it plain to you how much I’m responsible for what he is, and even for the vengeance he wishes on me.”

  “That’s clear,” said Lestat, “but I don’t know that I alone can help stop him. I may need help. In fact, I think I do. I think I need it from a Blood Drinker whose prowess with spirits is a legend.” He raked his hair back from his forehead. “I think I can persuade her to come and help me with this. I’m speaking of Merrick Mayfair. She doesn’t know your fair Mona, at least not as far as I know, and even if she did at one time there’s no connection now in any event. But Merrick knows spirits in a way that most vampires don’t. She was a powerful witch before she ever became a vampire.”

  “Then the Dark Blood didn’t take away her powers with spirits?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s far too complex for that. And besides, it’s a lie that spirits shun us. As you said yourself, I’m a seer of spirits. I wish to God I weren’t. I’ll need tomorrow evening to find Merrick Mayfair. Merrick is almost as young in the Blood as you are. She’s suffering. But I think I can bring her here, perhaps at one or two in the morning. I can’t imagine her refusing to come, but we’ll see. In either case, I’ll return. You have my firm pledge on it.”

  “Ah, I thank you with all my heart,” I said.

  “Then let me make a little confession,” he said with a warm, irresistible smile.

  “Of course,” I said, “what is it?”

  “I’ve fallen in love with you,” he said in a low voice. “You might find that in the nights to come I’m a bit of a nuisance.”

  I was so amazed I was speechless. To say that he looked exquisite to me was an understatement. He was savory and elegant and all night as I had talked I had been so locked to him that I had felt myself under his spell, opening up, as if there were no boundary between us.

  “Good,” he said suddenly as though he was reading my mind. “Now perhaps I’ll leave you early so that I can try to find Merrick right away. We have some time left before morning—.”

  A loud scream suddenly interrupted both of us. It was Jasmine, and I heard another scream right after it.

  “Quinn, Quinn, it’s Goblin!” she was roaring from the foot of the stairs.

  I had to hold myself back and force myself to run like a mortal man as I descended with Lestat behind me.

  Screams came from Aunt Queen’s room. I could hear Cindy, the nurse, crying. Big Ramona was sobbing. Jasmine rushed towards me. She grabbed me by both arms and said:

  “It was Goblin, Quinn! I saw him!”

  We ran back through the hall together, I once again suppressing my speed, trying desperately to keep to a mortal pace.

  As soon as I saw Aunt Queen lying on the floor by the marble table I knew she was dead.

  I knew by her eyes.

  I didn’t have to see the blood streaming from her head, or the blood on the marble table. I knew, and when I looked at her bare stocking feet, when I looked at her humble stocking feet, I began to sob, covering my face with my handkerchief.

  And there was the beautiful cameo of Medusa at her throat, the charm against harm, and it had done her no good, it hadn’t saved her. She was dead; she was lost. She was gone.

  She and her majesty and her goodness were gone forever.

  What else was there? People were making frantic phone calls. Sirens were soon screaming. What did it matter?

  How many times did they explain it before dawn?

  She had taken off her treacherous shoes. That’s why no one was holding her arm. She had taken off her terrible shoes. That’s why Jasmine didn’t have her by the arm. She had taken off her dangerous shoes. That’s why Cindy wasn’t at her side. She had gone over to the table to look at her cameos. She had wanted to find one in particular for Cindy’s daughter.

  On and on they said it, and the Coroner listened and Sheriff Jeanfreau listened and Ugly Henderson listened, and Jasmine and Ci
ndy both said it had been Goblin who made her fall, it had been Goblin whirling in the air, Goblin like a small tornado in the room, and Aunt Queen had cried out twice “Goblin!” and thrown up her arms, and then gone down, her head crashing into the marble.

  Cindy and Jasmine had seen it! They had seen the commotion in the air! They knew what it was. They heard her say it twice: “Goblin, Goblin!” and in her stocking feet on the carpet she fell, she fell and hit the marble table with the side of her head, and she was dead before she reached the carpet.

  Oh, God in Heaven help me.

  “Now, are you two ladies telling me that a ghost killed Mrs. McQueen?” asked the Coroner.

  “Sheriff, for the love of Heaven,” I said. “She fell! Surely you don’t believe that either Cindy or Jasmine had anything to do with it!”

  And so on it went, round and round, until I had to go, and I took Jasmine aside and told her to make all the arrangements with Lonigan and Sons in New Orleans. The wake should be tomorrow night, starting at seven. And I would see her then, and I told her to try as she might to arrange for an evening interment. Of course that would be highly irregular but maybe money could manage it.

  “And for the love of Heaven,” I said, “beware of Goblin.”

  “What are you going to do about him, Quinn?” she asked. She was trembling and her face was puffy from crying.

  “I’m going to destroy him, Jasmine. But it will take just a little time. Until I can get it done, beware of him. Tell all the others. Beware of him. He’s swollen with power—.”

  “You can’t leave here now, Quinn,” she said.

  “I have to, Jasmine,” I said. “I’ll see you at the funeral parlor in New Orleans at seven tomorrow.”

  She was horrified, and I didn’t blame her.

  Lestat stepped in front of me and he gently took her by the shoulders, looking intently into her eyes. “Jasmine,” he said in a low tone, “we have to go and find the woman who can put an end to Goblin. It’s imperative that we do that. Do you understand?”

 

‹ Prev