Merrick (26 page)

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Authors: Anne Rice

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Merrick
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17

O
N THE EVENING
of the appointed meeting, the sky was very clear except for a few distinct and brightly white clouds. The stars were small but I could see them, faint comfort that they were. The air itself was not so terribly humid, yet it was delightfully warm.

Louis came to meet me at the carriageway gate in the Rue Royale, and in my excitement, I noticed very little about his appearance except that he was uncommonly well dressed.

As I’ve mentioned before, his clothes are not usually very well chosen, but he had of late been enjoying a certain improvement, and on this evening he had clearly gone out of his way.

To repeat, I was too interested in our meeting with Merrick to pay it much attention. Having observed that he was not thirsting, indeed that he seemed quite flushed and human—a confirmation that he had already fed—I set out with him at once for Merrick’s house.

As we made our way through the desolate and godforsaken old neighborhood, neither of us spoke a word.

Many thoughts tumbled through my mind. My telling of the tale of Merrick had brought me much closer to her than I had been on the night of our meeting in the café in the Rue St. Anne, and my desire to see Merrick again, under any and all circumstances, was more powerful than I cared to admit.

But the subject of Merrick’s recent spell tormented me. Why had she sent visions of herself to dazzle me? I wanted to ask her directly, and felt that it must be settled before we could go on.

When we reached the restored house, with its high black picket fence, I insisted that Louis wait patiently for a moment until I walked around the place.

At once I surmised that the little houses on either side of Merrick’s large property were in utter ruin. And the property itself, as I’ve mentioned, was bounded on three sides and in part of the front by very high brick walls.

I could see a thick forest of trees in Merrick’s yard, of which two were immense oaks and another a high sprawling pecan tree, trying to free itself of the rampant yew trees which crowded against the walls. There was a shuddering light emanating upwards against the foliage and its entanglement of branches. I could smell incense and the wax of candles. Indeed, I caught many scents but not the scent of an intruder, and that is what mattered just now.

As for the rear upstairs apartment of the caretaker, it was empty and locked up. This pleased me mightily, as I did not want to deal with this mortal at all.

With regard to Merrick, I could easily sense her presence, walls or no walls, so I quickly made my way back to Louis, who stood before the iron gate which separated the front garden from the street.

Merrick’s oleanders were not in bloom yet, but they created a mighty evergreen shrubbery, and many other flowers were growing wild, especially the bright-red African hibiscus and the purple Althea with its stiff branches, and thick rampant white calla lilies with waxy spear-shaped leaves.

The magnolia trees which I scarcely remembered had grown hugely in the past decade, and they now composed a group of impressive sentinels for the front porch.

Louis stood patiently, staring at the leaded glass of the front doors as though he was madly excited. The house was entirely dark except for the front parlor, the room in which Great Nananne’s coffin had been set so long ago. I could detect the flicker of candles in the front bedroom, but I doubt a mortal eye could have seen it through the drawn drapes.

Quickly we went in the gate, rattling the ominous shrubbery, and up the steps and rang the bell. I heard Merrick’s soft voice from the interior:

“David, come in.”

We found ourselves in the shadowy front hall. A great shiny Chinese rug covered the polished floor in flashy modern splendor, and the large new crystal chandelier above was dark, and looked as if it were made of so much intricate ice.

I escorted Louis into the parlor, and there sat Merrick clothed in a shirtwaist dress of white silk, quite relaxed, in one of Great Nananne’s old mahogany chairs.

The dim light of a stand-up lamp fell wonderfully upon her. At once we locked eyes, and I felt a rush of love for her. I wanted her to know somehow that I’d revisited all our memories, that I’d chosen the prerogative of confiding them in one whom I trusted completely, and that I loved her as much as I did.

I also wanted her to know that I disliked intensely the visions she’d so recently sent after me, and if she had had any doings with the pesty black cat, that I was not amused!

I think she knew it. I saw her smile faintly at me as we moved further into the room.

I was about to take up the subject of her evil magic. But something stopped me.

It was, very simply, the expression on her face when her eyes fell upon Louis as he stepped into the light.

Though she was as poised and clever as always, there came about a complete change in her face.

She rose to her feet to meet him, which surprised me, and her countenance was smooth and open with utter shock.

It was then that I realized how skillfully Louis had attired himself in a finely tailored suit of thin black wool. He wore a shirt of a cream-colored silk with a small gold pin beneath his rose-colored tie. Even his shoes were deliberately perfect, buffed to a high luster, and his rich black curly hair was combed neatly and entirely. But the glory of his appearance was, of course, his keen features and his lustrous eyes.

I need not repeat that they are a dark-green color, because it was not the color of his eyes which mattered so much. Rather, it was the expression with which he gazed at Merrick, the seeming awe that settled over him, and the way that his well-shaped mouth slowly relaxed.

He had seen her before, yes, but he was not prepared to find her so very interesting and comely at the same time.

And she, with her long hair brushed straight back to the leather barrette, looked utterly inviting in her sharp-shouldered white silk dress, with its small fabric belt and its loose shimmering skirt.

Around her neck, over the fabric of the dress, she wore pearls, in fact, the triple strand of pearls that I myself had long ago given her, and in her ears were pearls, and on the ring finger of her right hand she wore a stunning pearl as well.

I recite these details because I sought to find some sanity in them, but what I was experiencing, what humbled me and made me livid was that the two of them were so impressed with each other, that, for the moment, I was not there.

It was undeniable, the fascination with which she stared at Louis. And there was not the slightest question about the overwhelming awe in which he held her.

“Merrick, my darling,” I said softly, “let me present Louis.” But I might as well have been babbling. She never heard a single syllable I uttered. She was silently transported, and I could see in her face a provocative expression which up until this time I had never beheld in her except when she was looking at me.

Quickly, obviously struggling to disguise her immense response, she reached out for his hand.

With a vampire’s reluctance, he met her gesture, and then, to my complete consternation, he bent down and kissed her—not on the hand which he gripped so tenaciously—but on both her lovely cheeks.

Why in the world hadn’t I foreseen this? Why had I thought that she would not see him except as an unapproachable wonder? Why hadn’t I realized that I was bringing into her presence one of the most alluring beings I’ve ever known?

I felt the fool for having not foreseen it, and I also felt the fool for caring so very much.

As he settled in the chair closest to hers, as she sat down and turned her attention to him, I found a place on the sofa across the room. Her eyes never left him, not for a second, and then I heard his voice come low and rich, with his French accent as well as the feeling with which he always spoke.

“You know why I’ve come to you, Merrick,” he said as tenderly as if he was telling her that he loved her. “I live in torment thinking of one creature, one creature I once betrayed and then nurtured, and then lost. I come because I believe you can bring that creature’s spirit to speak with me. I come to you because I believe I can determine through you whether that spirit is at rest.”

Immediately she answered.

“But what is unrest for spirits, Louis,” she said familiarly. “Do you believe in a purgatory, or is it merely a darkness in which spirits languish, unable to seek a light that would lead them on?”

“I’m not convinced of anything,” Louis said in answer. His face was full of vehement eloquence. “If ever a creature was earthbound, it’s the vampire. We’re wed, soul and body, hopelessly. Only the most painful death by fire can rip that bond. Claudia was my child. Claudia was my love. Claudia died by fire, the fire of the sun. But Claudia has appeared to others. Claudia may come if you call her. That’s what I want. That’s my extravagant dream.”

Merrick was lost to him, utterly lost to him. I knew it. Her mind, insofar as I could read it, was ravaged. She was deeply affected by his seeming pain. Nothing of her sympathies was reserved.

“Spirits exist, Louis,” she said, her voice slightly tremulous, “they exist, but they tell lies. One spirit can come in the guise of another. Spirits are sometimes greedy and depraved.”

It was quite exquisite, the way that he frowned and put the back of his finger to his lip before he answered. As for her, well, I was furious with her, and saw not the slightest physical or mental fault in her. She was the woman to whom I’d surrendered passion, pride, and honor a long time before.

“I’ll know her, Merrick,” said Louis. “I can’t be deceived. If you can call her, and if she comes, I’ll know her. I have no doubt.”

“But what if I doubt, Louis?” she responded. “What if I tell you that we’ve failed? Will you at least try to believe what I say?”

“It’s all settled, isn’t it?” I blurted out. “We mean to do it, then, don’t we?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” Louis answered, looking across the room at me considerately enough, though his large inquisitive eyes shot right back to Merrick. “Let me beg your forgiveness, Merrick, that we’ve troubled you for your power. I tell myself in my most awful moments that you’ll take away from us some valuable knowledge and experience, that perhaps we’ll confirm your faith—in God. I tell myself these things because I can’t believe we’ve merely ruptured your life with our very presence. I hope it’s so. I beg you to understand.”

He was using the very words that had come to my mind in my many feverish ruminations. I was furious with him as well as her, suddenly. Detestable that he should say these things, and the hell he couldn’t read minds. I had to get myself in hand.

She smiled, suddenly, one of the most magnificent smiles I’d ever seen. Her creamy cheeks, her dramatic green eyes, her long hair—all her charms conspired to make her irresistible, and I could see the effect of her smile upon Louis, as if she’d rushed into his arms.

“I have no doubts or regrets, Louis,” she told me. “Mine is a great and unusual power. You’ve given me a reason to use it. You speak of a soul that may be in torment; indeed, you speak of long, long suffering, and you suggest that we might somehow bring that soul’s torment to a close.”

At this point, his cheeks colored deeply and he leant over and clasped her hand again tightly.

“Merrick, what can I give you in exchange for what you mean to do?”

This alarmed me. He should not have said it! It led too directly to the most powerful and unique gift that we had to give. No, he shouldn’t have said it, but I remained silent, watching these two creatures become ever more enthralled with each other, watching them quite definitely fall in love.

“Wait until it’s done, and let us talk then of such things,” she said, “if we ever talk of them at all. I need nothing in return, really. As I’ve said, you are giving me a way to use my power and that in itself is quite enough. But again, you must assure me, you will listen to my estimation of what happens. If I think we have raised something which is not from God I will say so, and you must at least try to believe what I say.”

She rose and went directly past me, with only a faint smile for me as she did so, into the open dining room behind me to fetch something, it seemed, from the sideboard along the distant wall.

Of course, Louis, the consummate gentleman, was on his feet. Again I noticed the splendid clothing, and how lean and feline were his simplest gestures, and how stunningly beautiful his immaculate hands.

She reentered the light before me as if reentering a stage.

“Here, this is what I have from your darling,” she said. She held a small bundle, wrapped in velvet. “Sit down, Louis, please,” she resumed. “And let me put these items into your hands.” She took her chair again, beneath the lamp facing him, the precious goods in her lap.

He obeyed her with the open radiance of a schoolboy before a miraculous and brilliant teacher. He sat back as though he would yield to her slightest command.

I watched her in profile and nothing filled my mind so much as pure, utter, base jealousy! But loving her as I did, I was wise enough to acknowledge some genuine concern as well.

As for him, there was little doubt that he was completely as interested in her as he was in the things which had belonged to Claudia.

“This rosary, why did she have it?” asked Merrick, extracting the sparkling beads from her little bundle. “Surely she didn’t pray.”

“No, she liked it for the look of it,” he said, his eyes full of a dignified plea that Merrick should understand. “I think I bought it for her. I don’t think I ever even told her what it was. Learning with her was strange, you see. We thought of her as a child, when we should have realized, and then the outward form of a person has such a mysterious connection with the disposition.”

“How so?” Merrick asked.

“Oh, you understand,” he said shyly, almost modestly. “The beautiful know they have power, and she had, in her diminutive charm, a certain power of which she was always casually aware.” He hesitated. It seemed he was painfully shy. “We fussed over her; we gloried in her. She looked no more than six or seven at most.” The light in his face went out for a moment, as if an interior switch had shut it off.

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