by Aderyn Wood
“What is?” he asks. “Wait! Emma!”
I ignore him and let my legs take me deep into the shadows. I am thankful he doesn’t follow.
Chapter 18
New post from Emma’s blog – Saturday 29th November, 02:00 Hrs.
I’ll be in Chinatown. The Lotus. Midnight. Ask for the corner table, by the tapestry.
The white Peugeot pulled up with a slight screech from the tyres making Michael raise two eyebrows. The passenger window zoomed down and he bent to see Georgette in today’s disguise – a trench coat, a blue scarf and the large sunglasses; her blonde hair sprang out at various angles.
“Bonjour, Georgette.”
“Get in,” she hissed.
Michael obliged and had barely enough time to close the car door before Georgette spun into a U-turn and they sped through the city. Michael grappled with his seatbelt buckle. “Are you in a hurry, Georgette?”
She smiled as she studied the rear view mirror and wove through traffic. “Yes, I love to get out of the city.”
“Where are you taking me exactly?”
“Out for lunch. There is a place in Lesches that has a wonderful dégustation. It reminds me of my village.”
“Dégustation?” Michael stifled a groan. “I’m not very hungry, Georgette.”
She stared at him, and Michael stared at the road, trying not to worry that Georgette’s eyes weren’t on it.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Michael. You need to get out. You’ve been holed up in your room for too long. Here, have a strawberry.” She pointed to the small basket on the centre console, filled with red, ripe strawberries, before she thankfully returned her attention to the road.
Michael picked one up and the sweet aroma of it made his mouth water. He took a bite; the flavour tingled on his tongue.
“My neighbour grows them in her little hothouse.” Georgette selected one herself and popped it in her mouth.
The journey took forty minutes. As they drove past the ring road the built-up cityscape morphed to suburban apartment buildings and houses, which in turn gave way to white-washed cottages with terracotta roofs, vast gardens, and fields where horses frolicked. The sun shone in a blue sky and Georgette became more jolly with each passing mile.
Neither of them spoke of Emma, not yet. The day was too bright. Michael’s shoulders relaxed as he enjoyed the beauty of the landscape, asking himself why he lived in a city when the country had so much more to offer one’s soul.
“There is more to life than work,” Georgette told him. “And more to France than Paris.”
The restaurant was more a home than a business, and they shared a table, beside a fire, with other couples. The wine came with each delectable course and Michael suddenly understood Georgette’s love affair with food. He’d never tasted such freshness, such flavours. He sipped his wine after completing a dish of succulent duck and relished the heat of the fire on his back.
Judith would love it here.
The couple beside them made some small talk about the weather and Michael smiled and responded in his most eloquent French yet. Georgette beamed at him. She looked truly happy. And different; she looked different. She wore a light touch of lipstick, and a little blush on her plump cheeks. Her floral dress accented her femininity, so unlike the starched uniform.
“Are you trying to woo me, Georgette? I could almost fall in love with you right now.” Perhaps it was the wine that brought a contented warmth to him, but Michael truly felt he could fall in love, if his heart wasn’t in such a sorry state.
Georgette giggled. “Don’t be silly; you’re almost twice my age!”
“Surely not.”
“No, not really. But – I mean no offence – you’re not my type.”
“Oh? And what is your type, Georgette?”
She looked dreamily over his shoulder to a future that only she could see. “Very tall, dark and handsome, of course. Someone who loves life, and who loves me. Your heart is set on another. Non?”
Michael stopped smiling.
“I am sorry. I’ve upset you.”
“No, it’s just that – I was enjoying getting away from everything.” He took a sip of wine. “Thank you, Georgette. This is exactly what I needed.”
“Yes, and there is dessert yet! My favourite part.” Her smile faded. “Come, let us walk about the garden first. Bring your wine. It is time we talked about her.”
The garden was rather bare though a few trees gripped the last of their yellow leaves. Michael and Georgette walked a path that loosely followed a creek, bubbling and gurgling as it rushed over rocks and fallen branches. Michael took a sip of wine and turned his face to the sunlight, welcoming the warmth on his skin.
“Have you been to Chinatown before?” Georgette’s voice was strained, laced with concern. “I don’t like it. What is she doing but playing with you? And why does she insist on using her blog to contact you? It is not secure. I have taken the liberty of deleting her last two posts.”
Michael frowned; he had no desire for Georgette to get further involved. “I will tell her not to communicate through the blog. It will be all right, Georgette. A restaurant in the middle of the city is much safer than an old deserted cemetery, don’t you think?”
“I do not know. I think I should come with you. I could book a table, sit away from you. Just enough to keep an eye on her.” Her eyes revealed her usual excitement and Michael supposed she was burning with curiosity to see Emma for herself, though he didn’t doubt her concern for him.
“I will be safe. I’ve been doing much – research the last few days.” Michael kept the Foliss Abesse secret. He didn’t want to bring Georgette any closer to the case than she was. “I’ve learnt quite a lot about what Emma is. I will be on my guard at all times.”
Georgette lifted her head. “I’ve done research of my own. Here ...” She rummaged in the little pink handbag she wore over her shoulder. “I want you to have this.”
Michael squinted at the two round vials of liquid that Georgette placed in his hand. “What …?”
“Holy water,” Georgette said.
Michael pursed his lips to stifle a smile. Holy water? Georgette had clearly been watching too many Hollywood movies.
“Mixed with frankincense and infused with garlic,” she continued.
Michael looked at her. Frankincense and garlic? Perhaps she knew something after all. The book of ‘Rites and Rituals’ mentioned them often. But, it was still only theoretical. Could such things work in reality? “We don’t know if they have any effect, Georgette. Such ideas are probably the stuff of myths, movies and old wives tales.”
Georgette lifted her head again. “Make sure you keep them with you tonight. And I expect a phone call as soon as you get in.”
Chinatown in Paris seemed just like all the other Chinatowns Michael had visited. A little bit of Asia in old world Europe, filled to the brim with people, colour and noise, even on a night as cold as this one.
Le Jardin de Lotus was built of old grey stone topped with a green-tiled roof. A red dragon stood by the entrance, its mouth open in a menacing roar. Michael patted down his hair, opened the door, and walked in.
The aroma of ginger and soy greeted him. Diners still filled the restaurant. Even at this late hour, Saturday night and Chinatown was abuzz.
A waiter greeted him and he asked for a table in the corner, by the tapestry. The waiter nodded and said, “Your friend awaits.” He led Michael through a beaded curtain and into a small room. Emma sat right at the back. Michael was taken once again with the difference in her appearance. Her dark eyes seemed even darker in the low light of the restaurant; so different to their light blue in the photos. Her pallid skin contrasted sharply against her black long-sleeved shirt.
“Good evening,” he said.
She nodded and gestured to the seat and Michael sat opposite her.
The waiter came over with menus. “The usual, Emma?”
She looked up at him and smiled and the old Emma seemed
to shine through. “Yes, please.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Ah, I’ll just have a jasmine tea, please.”
He nodded and scooped up the menus leaving them to their silence. Michael cleared his throat. “So you know the staff here?”
“A little. They don’t feel the same as other people. I think they might know what I am.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Really?” This was a surprise. He glanced behind, wondering if he could talk to the waiter. Perhaps later.
“They are not afraid of me.”
“Are most people afraid of you?” He noted his confessional voice came out with her, as though he instinctively knew he had to be calm.
Emma’s eyes seemed to darken further. “Mostly, I can walk around people and keep my distance. But if I get close, if I interact with them, it doesn’t take them long to become afraid of me. And that is a dangerous thing.”
“Tell me.”
Emma blinked. “You’ve read my blog?”
He nodded. He could almost recite the whole thing, he’d read it that many times.
“It’s just as Nate said in his journal. Some other instinct, like a great hunger, or thirst, overcomes me. It’s more than anything I’d experienced before, when I was – when I was—”
“Human?” Michael offered.
She nodded. “If I detect fear in a person, this thrill arises in me and it’s like I’m a predator, like a wolf that scents fear in their prey. I want to chase them down.” Her voice was slightly raised. “It’s exhilarating.”
“And have you given in to it?” Michael concentrated on the tone of his voice, making it as calm as possible. He’d read enough about vampires to know they were highly unpredictable, and from what Emma was telling him she seemed to be just as wary of this trait in her new self. As if at any moment she could snap into the monster she’d become.
Her eyes closed. “Yes, I have. But there’s another thing that comes very soon after the taste of blood. Nate talked about that, too, in the diary.”
“Guilt.”
“Yes, but it is stronger than any feeling of guilt I’d experienced before. It wracks my mind and my heart, and all I want to do is end it all – but I can’t.” Her eyes opened and focused on the glass of rice wine in front of her. “I cannot die.”
No, you are immortal.
“It’s like I have a war inside. The goodness is trying to fix this new side of me. It’s a darkness, a wrongness.” Her eyes locked to his. “It is evil, that’s what it is – evil. And it’s trying to take over, to become who I am. And every day it is harder to resist. Most of the time I just want to give in to it.”
Michael nodded. He’d read about this in the Foliss Abesse. The newly turned were more human than vampire, and struggled with themselves, but soon the darkness within them would take its toll, and the more they fed the darker they became. Michael knew it was dangerous, but Emma looked so deeply sad. Dark rings lined her eyes. She struggled. He had to help her.
The waiter returned with their order. A pot of steaming tea was placed in front of Michael and the jasmine aroma filled the space. The waiter put a hot bowl of soup down for Emma – blood. Perhaps not dissimilar to the ox blood soup he’d enjoyed a few nights ago with Judith.
Judith.
She kept returning to his thoughts no matter how often he tried to shut them down. He closed his eyes and focussed on the present. He had to stop thinking of her. She was no good for him.
He looked up. Emma was watching him, a slight frown on her face. “Something is wrong,” she said. “Are you married?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Not anymore.” He gestured to her soup, wanting to change the subject and get back to investigating how he could help, if he could. “Is it ox blood soup?”
She picked up her spoon. “No, it is no soup, just warmed pig’s blood. Although Liu puts a little chilli in it for me. He thinks I might enjoy the flavour, but it is only the blood I want.”
“What about the wine?”
Emma clutched the glass and drank. “Rice wine is very strong. I find alcohol helps suppress the urges, it seems to dull these new instincts.” She tipped the glass up and drained all the fluid. Michael took a deep breath. If any human drank so much they’d just about be out cold. But Emma drank it as one might gulp water on a hot day, and then she filled the glass from the bottle.
“How did you find this place? How did you work out that you could come here to – feed, in safety?”
Emma scooped the blood. She closed her eyes as if it was both a pleasure and a painful experience. She opened her eyes and Michael thought there was a little light there. But he couldn’t be sure. The red lanterns cast a dull glow.
“It was a few months after it happened. Nate had left me. I spent my nights either walking the streets or in my old apartment.”
“You still go there?”
“Yes. I tidy, and dream of living my life again. I even check my mailbox. I like to wash my clothes. The smell of fresh clothes is such a comfort.”
“I see.” So, she did have the mailbox key. “Go on.”
Emma looked down. “One night I’d had a lot of alcohol. There was a delivery truck, unattended for only a minute. And I was quick, I took as many bottles as I could carry and drank them all down. My instincts were numbed so much I almost felt human.” Emma smiled and Michael smiled in return. It was good to see her look happy.
“I wandered into Chinatown that night. I’d been here a few times – before, but I’d never really explored it. There was a parade – a celebration for the Chinese New Year. Dragons and candle lanterns filled the streets, and a parade of people marched to the Seine where they let candles float away on lotus flowers. It was beautiful.
“But in the early morning hours people went to their homes and the streets became dark and menacing again. I found myself in a dead-end alley, and when I turned around, I saw I had been followed by three men.
“The way they looked at me, I knew exactly what they intended. And for a moment I forgot what I was, what I had become, and I thought I was still my old self – the old, innocent Emma whose worst nightmare was about to happen. It was the alcohol, it had dulled the instinct and for the first time since my transformation, I was afraid.
“I asked them what they wanted, and they said they wanted some fun, and the three of them crept closer. Two of them grabbed my arms and wrestled me to the ground while a third one undid his belt and was quickly on top of me, I could smell the alcohol on his breath, but then something else. I could smell his lust, his sweat, and his blood – something fired within me. My instincts awakened just as they tore at my jeans.” Emma paused, her eyes looking far away as though she could see the scene replaying before her.
“What happened?” Michael asked, his heart raced.
Emma blinked. “I lost control. Soon they were the ones who were afraid. They were dead in less than a minute and I was drunk on their blood.”
Michael forced his heart to slow with steady breaths, he needed to be calm, avoid fear – she’d made it quite clear that fear was a major trigger. He couldn’t put himself in danger. “One might suggest you defended yourself. They were the ones being predatory.”
Emma pursed her lips. “Yes, the guilt was easier to handle with that one. But when it was over, and I looked around, I saw Shen, Liu’s brother.” She nodded toward the door. “He was at the dumpster, at the back of this restaurant. He was calm. I had blood all over me, three dead men at my feet, and this man stood there without fear. He invited me inside to clean up and told me not to worry about the men, that he would take care of them. Shen and Liu, they seemed to understand. They told me to come to them whenever I needed sustenance and they would provide it for me.” Emma raised the bowl of blood as in a toast before draining it in one long swallow.
Michael glanced to the door. He should return in the daylight to speak with Shen and Liu. He looked back at Emma.
“I’ve tried asking them; they will tell me no
thing. I doubt they will tell you.”
Michael frowned. It’s as though she reads my thoughts. He cleared his throat. “How many have there been? How many victims?”
Emma wiped her mouth, her lips thin. “Only those. Jeanne and the three men.”
“And with each of them, did you notice any changes – in yourself?”
Emma frowned. “Yes. Gradual things that I’ve noticed quite by accident. Similar to how Nate experienced it in his journal.”
“Tell me.” Michael had read about these powers. First in the translations of Nate’s journal that Emma had conveyed on her blog. Then in the two books, but to hear about them first hand – his curiosity awakened.
“Well, the first thing I learnt was that I can jump. I found out in a night of despondency when I tried to end my life by falling from my apartment building.” Her eyes studied Michael for a moment.
“But you didn’t die.”
“No, I landed on my feet, as easily as jumping from a step. Of course, my curiosity was aroused then, and for a time it was as though I had something to live for. Nate had told me very little before he left me. And I had to find out most of it for myself. I can jump very high, to the roof of a one-storey building. And scaling walls is easy. I have incredible strength. No man is a match for me, no matter how strong. But mostly, I can feel people’s emotions, and sense what they may be thinking. I can’t read their thoughts very clearly. Not like Nate could. But this skill seems to be growing with every new day. And my new abilities are stronger at different times. In the middle of the night they are strongest. And some nights the power is more than others, but on those nights the instinct is hard to control, too.”
“It seems to be the rhythm of the moon and the seasons that may have an effect.” At least that’s what the Foliss had suggested. “Tell me, have you been able to transform, physically?” The Foliss had also hinted at the vampire’s ability to change form to a mist even.
Emma scoffed. “You mean like a bat? No, I’ve not done that. I wouldn’t know how.”