Eric looked at the envelope in his hands, addressed to him but in care of The Dracul, Morgan's Hollywood nightclub. He slid his finger into the small slot at the edge of the envelope and, ripped open the paper, knowing what would happen if he wasn't careful. Mina, the kitten who'd adopted him a few nights ago, took the opportunity to bat at the other edge of the letter. The envelope shuddered in his hand, sending glitter and tiny cut out snowflakes spilling over his lap and the comforter.
"Thanks Miss Mina, I was trying to avoid making a mess." He scolded the now glitter covered kitten, though he was trying very hard not to laugh. Mina, shook herself, dislodging most of the glitter, before hopping off the bed and walking off, tail held high. Laughing for the first time in what felt like weeks, Eric slid the card out of the envelope, not caring that glitter and snowflake shaped confetti fell on the comforter and floor anymore, and looked at the front of it.
There they were, from Thanksgiving, no doubt. The whole Kincade family looked back at him from the card. His father's sparkling blue eyes were a match to what he saw in the mirror every morning. A somewhat lopsided smile curled his lips, echoing the one his mother wore in the picture. Their smiles seemed to accuse him as they stared out of the photograph. His sister, brother, mother and father all seemed to know that he was lying to them every time he wrote a letter.
That's impossible, everything's been set up so that they think I'm in LA. It's a convoluted system, but supposedly it's for the best. He thought, hanging his head. The others keep telling me that my family will be safe and not worry too much about me. Unfortunately, Morgan doesn't know my mother though; she's going to worry no matter what.
"I hate lying to you." He whispered to the photograph as the conversation that he'd had with Morgan a short time before Thanksgiving flooded his memory.
"Why can't I go?" He had demanded, for what felt like the hundredth time, after Morgan had told him that it was impossible for him to spend just a few hours with his family. She had spent the past fifteen minutes dancing around the issue, giving him several tactful, diplomatic answers.
"It is dangerous." She growled. Both her voice and stiff posture screamed that she was fed up with his insistence.
"Dangerous? What do you mean?" Eric pressed, grabbing on to her arm when she tried to turn away.
"I mean that, should you decide to attend the family dinner, it is almost certain that you will lose control and hurt or kill one or more members of your family." She snapped, green eyes flashing with irritation as she wrenched her arm out of his grip.
"What?" Eric gasped.
"You are still new to this, and while you have more control than most, you will not be able to stop yourself. You will give into the bloodlust and you will loathe yourself for it. Please Eric. I know how important this is to you but, if you truly love your family, you will stay away." Something in her voice convinced him that she was speaking from some type of experience. Woven within the words was a thread of anguish which spoke of dark, tortured memories.
"What will I tell them?" He'd asked giving in.
"Tell them your new boss is a bitch and won't let you have enough time off." Morgan answered, a smirks curling her lips.
"You're not a bitch. Eric sighed. I'm just stubborn."
Eric came out of his reverie when a small white paw whacked his leg. He looked down at Mina, she mewed and trotted over to the open bedroom door. A clear sign that she wanted to be fed. He turned his attention back to the picture. "I don't want to lie," he sighed, "but I have to. I can't control myself around humans for very long. The blood calls to me and I can't stop myself." He shook his head and stood. "Just like I can't stop feeding before I kill, without another vampire there to help me." Eric opened the card, hiding the faces, behind the flap. The change didn't help, his family's accusatory looks were replaced with hand written barbs that lodged themselves into his heart and wouldn't let go. He felt his eyes tearing up as he read over the messages of love that each family member had written. "This is stupid," Eric muttered looking up at the clock, "It's eleven o'clock. They'll be on their way to midnight mass." He chuckled shaking his head. "They're on their way to Saint Louis Cathedral: it's a high holy day so the family goes there." As he spoke he felt a sharp pain in his chest, the barbs digging deeper. "Then it's Christmas day at Saint Anne's, just like any normal Sunday." Eric told the kitten who had perched herself on the small antique table beside the door. "I've got to get out of here." He tossed the card toward the nightstand, not bothering to pick it up when it slid off and fluttered to the floor. He snatched his denim jacket off the back of the chair before he left the room with, Mina's plaintive mews following, behind him as he walked.
"Eric?" Morgan's voice drifted out of the living room as he stepped into the foyer.
"Yeah, I'm going to feed the princess." He answered without looking at the elder vampire as he passed where she was sitting in the living room. He heard Morgan's soft footsteps behind him as he entered the kitchen.
"That wasn't what I was going to say." She replied, her voice was calm, to the point where it tested and pricked at the edges of Eric's temper, fraying it.
"What is it?" He stopped in front of the pantry and opened it. This was Mina's cupboard. There were stacks of canned kitten food, a couple bags of dry, treats, and, off to one side, the supplies for her litter boxes. When Morgan didn't answer for a few moments he snatched a can from the stacks, then turned to face the other vampire. Mina was sitting on the counter watching him thorough golden eyes as she waited, tail twitching.
"I wanted to see how you are." Morgan replied stroking the kitten's back.
"I'm fine," he snapped, "I'm just going for a walk." He slammed the can on to the counter. Mina hissed as she scrambled on the counter for a moment, paws and claws not finding traction on the smooth granite slab thwarting her escape attempt. As Eric stormed through the living room he heard Morgan soothing the cat. He paused at the front door listening.
"Come on Princess Mina." Morgan's voice drift out of the kitchen, "let's get you dinner, or is it breakfast since you are a vampire's kitten?" A tiny mew answered Morgan and Eric was certain that she was on the counter trying to push her small black head in between the bowl and food can.
I really should go feed her. Eric thought. It's not Mina's fault that I got that card. He stood at the door a few moments more, even making a partial turn as if to go back to the kitchen.
"I suppose it's really lunch since it's already midnight and Nicholas fed you at sundown." Morgan continued. "Yes I know about that, but let's keep it our little secret."
Eric shook himself, his mind drifting back to the card, and his family, to where he should be, and he turned back to the door. He stepped out into a moisture laden evening and pulled his jacket on to cover the pair of forty-five's he carried in shoulder holsters; he still wasn't skilled enough with a sword to merit carrying one for defense.
I don't care that it's not considered honorable to shoot another vampire, I'll do it if it means the difference between this life and death. Why should I follow a code of honor that was outdated before my great grandparents were born? Eric thought, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He looked around, a light low mist hung about the front yard, clinging to the trees and shrubs. Feeling the need to move, Eric pulled his hood over his head shoved his hands in his pockets, and started walking.
Eric followed his feet through the Garden district paying little attention to the colorful lights and decorations, which seemed to mock him. Artificial snow hid speakers that blasted tinny renditions of carols he'd heard all his life. The fog dimmed the glow of the lights a little, giving them a hazy almost dreamlike quality. Feeling the barbs dig deeper into his heart, he found himself walking toward the St Charles line. Walking in a strange sort of daze he caught a trolley, holding on to a hand railing to steady himself as the car rattled along. When the trolley pulled up to the Jackson Square stop, Eric was feeling more like himself again.
He hopped off the ca
r and strolled through the square, admiring the lights. All around him the beating of human hearts was like the hum of a fluorescent bulb, just darting along the edges of his consciousness, something easy to ignore. He meandered down the lighted paths through the center of the square, past the bronze statue of old Stonewall himself and out the other side just across the way from the steps of the Cathedral.
Eric looked to either side and saw that the benches sitting along the fence were empty so, he walked over to one and sat down, closing his eyes. He could hear the music through the open doors and, though he knew it was impossible, he thought he could feel the warmth from emanating from inside surrounding him. He remained still, listening to the sounds of mass echoing through the cathedral, and into the still night air. After a time sitting there listening, he picked out the deep baritone that he'd grown up hearing every Sunday, his father's. Smiling he cocked his head to the left and was able to pick out first his mother's, then his sister's voices. His brother's voice was the most difficult, the most like his own, the most nondescript. When he was able to pick it out, Eric tossed his head back and laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. Oh God, I want to be in there. Would it really be as bad as Morgan said?
Before he was conscious of making a decision, Eric found himself rising to his feet. Unbidden, they carried him to the doors of the cathedral. Hundreds of different heartbeats played a complex cadence in his skull, pulling at something deep inside him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, but the scents of perfume, cologne, candles, incense, sweat and underneath it all blood, filled his senses. It called to him, like the sirens of old singing their hypnotic chants to lure the unsuspecting to their deaths. Eric put his hand on the wall beside the door to steady himself. Breath coming in fast shallow pants, he tried to clear his mind.
The part of him that wanted blood rebelled, hijacked his mind showing him images of a bloodbath within. He saw bodies broken and bleeding on the oak pews, crimson stains spreading over the golden wood. The stone floor slick with gore under his boots as he stepped over faceless corpses. And the blood was sweet in his mouth, filling him with power and strength that he had never felt before. Eric felt himself step forward, into the church, ready to pull the heavy door closed behind him but a breeze carried on it the scent of moist fresh turned earth, an open grave. The scent he associated with other vampires.
Eric opened his eyes and looked to his left, the direction the wind had come from to find Nicholas standing several feet away, hands clasped in front of him, serene. Eric swallowed hard and shook his head. Without saying a word, Nicholas turned and started toward the benches. Six months of living with Morgan's husband had taught Eric enough about the elder vampire to know when he expected to be followed. He looked into the sanctuary and felt the barbs around his heart dig in deeper. Though he was reluctant, Eric turned and walked over to where Nicholas sat, silent. He sat beside him and waited.
After a while Nicholas spoke. "If you wish, you may remain and watch your family as they leave but do not try to speak with them. The bloodlust will get its talons into you again and I will not be here to stop it."
"That's what that was?"
"Yes. We will speak more of it at a later time. For now I will simply remind you to be home before the rising of the sun." Nicholas warned before he stood.
Uncertain about what had just happened, Eric watched the elder vampire walk down the street and out of sight. When he was alone again, Eric closed his eyes and focused on the sounds coming from the cathedral. He didn't know how long he sat there, but based on the length of past masses he figured it was at least an hour, maybe closer to two, before he heard the last strains of the final hymns ebb and die away. Knowing that he couldn't risk being seen by his family, he pulled his hood forward. Hunched his shoulders and tilted his head forward, further obscuring his features. Eric watched the crowd streaming out of the cathedral for several minutes, alert for any sign that he was succumbing to the bloodlust again.
As soon as they exited the building his breath caught in his lungs, his throat tightened and he had to grip the edge of the bench to keep from rushing over to them. His laughing younger brother was the spitting image of their father, tall and broad shouldered with chestnut hair shot through with gold. Eric had always looked more like their mother. He had her darker more mahogany hair and blue eyes. The main difference was that he had his father's broad shoulders. His mother and sister were both dark and petite with eyes that resembled mocha. Seeing his mother cut to Eric's heart, she was smiling but he could see something in her eyes. It was a sadness that didn't quite go away, even though he heard his brother's booming voice as he attempted to cheer her up. He watched as his dad put his arm around his mom and lead the family away from the church. Eric shifted in his seat to watch until they disappeared into the dark.
When they had been out of sight for several minutes, and the square was empty Eric slipped down the alley beside the cathedral toward Bourbon Street. Outside one of the many bars lining the way he hailed a cab and rattled off the address to the townhouse. Fifteen minutes later he stood before the front door and took a deep breath. The steps wavered under his feet, and the world seemed to spin out of control for a few moments as the realization hit him.
God I owe Morgan such an apology. He thought, feeling guilt settle on his shoulders. She's dealing with her own shit while helping me out and I repay her by being a jerk. He shook himself to clear his head before taking a deep breath and opening the door. The moment he stepped into the foyer Eric gasped. The living room had been transformed and the scent of pine filled his nostrils. He stood with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, before he snapped out of it and walked into the living room.
Morgan looked over her shoulder and smiled. She beckoned to him without saying a word. He crossed to where she was sitting and settled on to the couch beside her. Taking a moment to look around the room, Eric was amazed. A massive eight-foot tall pine tree stood in the far corner covered in lights, and decorations, but not tinsel. Several stockings were hung over the fireplace, including one bearing his name and one for Mina. A crackling fire roared in the hearth, and candles flickered in various types of holders around the room giving it a warm glow.
"I'm sorry I left the way I did." He said after a few moments of silence.
"Thank you. Apology accepted." Morgan nodded and smiled. "However, I feel as though I owe an apology as well. You didn't realize that we celebrate the holidays, and with everything else on my plate I didn't think to tell you. So, for that I am sorry."
"How do you celebrate?" He cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow.
"Well within our little family there are a lot of different holidays." Morgan began as Eric sat on the couch near her. "I celebrate Yule, Marcus twelfth night. Nicholas, well he's not into holidays. For Charles and Christophe, we try to have as traditional Christmas as possible. We give gifts and spend the evening together. Granted, there is no meal shared but we do the best that we can."
"It sounds nice." Eric answered trying to ignore the images that popped into his head at the mention of a vampire holiday meal. Several were disturbing and one was downright silly.
"You need a better poker face my friend. There's something bothering you. Come on, talk to me." Morgan said as she picked Mina up and set her beside Eric. The kitten stretched, arching her back standing on tiptoe, before she hopped into his lap and curled up.
He paused, turning over in his mind, what he needed to say. "Christmas was always big in my family." He answered looking down at the kitten in his lap.
"And you miss them." Her voice was a soothing balm.
"Yeah, I got the family Christmas card and, for the first time in about ten years, I wasn't in the picture on the front." Eric sighed and looked up. "It hit me hard."
"I think I can understand that."
"That's why I left in the foul mood." He started petting Mina, letting the action soothe his emotions.
"Well, you did tell your
family that you're living in LA right?" Morgan asked. Eric glanced at her and saw that she was biting her lower lip with one sharp tipped fang.
"Yeah." He answered, uncertain of what she had in mind.
"So you can call them tomorrow." She smiled and shrugged.
"Why didn't I think of that?" He chuckled; the answer was so simple, so clear that he had not been able to see it.
"Because you're still thinking that minimal contact means letters only." She paused, waiting for Eric to nod. "It doesn't. You just can't see any of your family for a year."
"So, I can call them?" He asked just to be certain.
"As often as you like." She laughed while nodding.
"Thank you, for everything." Eric smiled and picked Mina up. "Come on, Miss Mina, shall we go to sleep?" He asked the kitten who yawned at him.
"See you this evening." Morgan called as Eric began making his way upstairs. Once in his room he set Mina on the bed and went through his usual morning routine. He found the card on the floor and picked it up, smiling he set it on the nightstand before climbing into bed. Mina curled up at his side, purring, and Eric smiled, his first Christmas as a vampire wasn't looking so bad … now.
Murder, Mayhem, Monsters, and Mistletoe Page 26
