The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) (6 page)

Finally, he had been able to take another break and get a drink. Not all of the results would be available for a while, possibly a week or more. Over all Jason felt—he knew—he had done well and believed he had successfully met all of the criteria. Which meant there was only one last hurdle to get over: he didn’t really want to take the job.

He kept going over the reasons in his mind, all the pros and cons. He still could not feel comfortable about the decision. There were just too many unknowns.
What would it take for me to seriously want this job…?
He reflected on the question.

Months of unemployment and rejections for jobs, for one thing. Reversal of fortune; disaster ahead; the future looking bleak…
yeah, there is all that. No. I shouldn’t think that way,
he admonished himself.
Something good will come along. It has to
.

He finished a light snack and returned to join Matthew at the hotel. He had already checked out of his room; his luggage was being held at the desk. The Genier firm had reimbursed him for the plane change fee and any additional expenses. All that remained was to conclude the interview, tie up any loose ends, wrap up any last minute questions or concerns.
It shouldn’t take long
, Jason thought.
I’ll have time for some last minute shopping and have beignets and coffee one last time before I have to leave for the airport
.

But Matthew had questions for him. Lots of questions.

When most of the personal data had been collected and some of it scrutinized and analyzed already, one thing and apparently only one thing so far seemed to raise a red flag: his interest in the paranormal.

“Where do you go, and what do you do exactly? What kinds of equipment do you use, and how is it used? Would you be bringing this into the job situation? How often do you do this? What do you do with your findings? How is that information used? With whom do you share that information, and where and how is it shared, exactly?”

Jason answered as patiently as he could. After he thought he had explained it all succinctly, Matthew continued to pursue it.

Jason tried to hide his exasperation. “What is it you want to know?”

“What do you think is ‘out there’? What do you believe exists? What kinds of things have you personally experienced?”

Jason shrugged. “I have experienced many things I cannot explain. I believe there are such things as spirits or ghosts; ectoplasm maybe; shadow figures; I think it is possible for sasquatch to exist. Alien occupants of UFO’s are a likely possibility. The mothman too, maybe.”
Does Matthew even know about some of this stuff?

“Anything else?”

“Like what?” Jason wondered. Where was Matthew going with this? Jason almost said: astral projection, ESP, mental telepathy, clairvoyance—I believe in all of it, if there is a steady paycheck in it. But he felt certain the Ghost-Busters reference would be lost on Matthew. And he didn’t really want to convey a flippant attitude, especially since he did take most of those subjects somewhat seriously. He began to wonder if Matthew was so focused on this for his own benefit, or did it still have to do with the screening process?

“What are your personal thoughts and feelings about all of this? What else do you believe exists, specifically? How do you view this field and the people involved in it? What do you really think of the existence of supernatural and paranormal events? What do you personally feel about doing these kinds of investigations? What is it you really hope to find? What kinds of things are you looking for, exactly?” Matthew perseverated. He kept asking the same kinds of questions, in different ways.

Is he looking for inconsistencies? What is this really about? Is he just trying to wear me down?
Jason felt badgered about all of it. “I believe there are things in existence we have not uncovered yet and things which we really do not even begin to understand. I believe there are things that are not supposed to exist, but do. I believe someday I may have more proof than I already have about all of these things. I believe as an investigator it is important to keep an open mind and a healthy skepticism. And to keep your research methods above reproach.” Jason gave what he felt was his definitive answer. He was done.

Finally, it seemed, Matthew had gotten the answers he was looking for. Either that, Jason speculated, or he had simply given up.

“We will let you know about the decision,” Matthew said tonelessly. Jason thought he detected a certain coldness in his manner now.

It was already time to go to the airport. No last minute shopping; no time for one last order of beignets. And, probably, no job offer either, Jason sighed. He was weary of all of this now. He did not want to think about it anymore. As reluctant as he was to leave New Orleans, especially since he didn’t feel he had taken proper leave of the city, and might never get back there any time soon, if ever again, it was almost a relief to be on his way to the airport and heading back home.

Chapter 2

Interlude

As soon as he returned to Minnesota, Jason had to apply for unemployment benefits. Several responses to his resume invited him to apply for positions that were not only lower paying, but were not even in his field. He expanded his job search to include all of Minnesota, as well as most of the East Coast as far away as Atlanta.

He was willing to relocate. The decision depended on where the jobs were. He felt he was not in a position now to be too picky.

In the meantime, he excitedly shared his New Orleans experiences with his fifteen-year-old sister, Carrie, leaving out the whole weird stranger part. Their brother, Evan, the middle child of the family, did not share their close bond, nor it seemed did he even begin to understand the allure of the darker aesthetic Jason and Carrie shared. But somehow it was Carrie and Jason who always felt like the black sheep of the family.

Jason had moved back home with his parents. His roommate had moved in with a new girlfriend, so the arrangement had actually worked out for both of them.

Jason dedicated several hours a day to the job search, without much luck. He was beginning to see it could take weeks, if not months, of uncertainty until he could find something. He hated the feeling of being unsettled. Sitting around waiting was not something he was good at; he needed to be actively engaged, always focused, needing some plan in order to keep anxiety in check.

There was no extra money as far as entertainment went. He spent one afternoon going over all of the photos he had taken in New Orleans. He had so many good memories of his time there. He found himself thinking about the stranger—whom he now knew had a name: Augere, and recalled the words he’d said: “I think you will find this the better of several offers.” Yeah, well. He had been home two weeks already and had heard nothing from New Orleans. Not that he expected to. Not that he was really that interested in that job.

Jason responded to two job openings in Boston. He learned one had already been filled; the other, the more promising one, was still available. It paid almost what he’d made at his last job and the benefits were comparable. He did a phone interview and they seemed interested in having him fly there to meet in person.

Jason tried to line up a few other prospects, to make the trip to Boston as worthwhile and productive as possible to increase his chances of success. It took diligence to find a few other possibilities in the Boston area, but he was able to do so. Then it just became a matter of setting up and coordinating the appointments. He would have to be in Boston for several days, with the expense of hotels, meals, etc. as well as the flight.

In the meantime he got a tentative offer from a firm in Minneapolis and inquiries from as far away as Utah and Seattle. None of these really appealed to him; some were not even close to his level of experience, much less his interest, and the pay and benefits were quite a bit less.

Jason did some salary searches for the Boston area. There was some, but not much, room for negotiating upward. When he looked into apartment rentals, utilities, cost of food and public transportation—he would be leaving his car in Minnesota—he would have to be making more than what his current prospects were offering. Two of the jobs he was considering would require a lot of commuting. He would need to have a roommate. When he projected his cost of living expenses against his projected salary, it was kind of bleak. He would be living in Boston, but wouldn’t be able to afford much of the cultural advantages of living there. It would be very difficult to budget for travel and vacations. It would be doable, just, if he landed the higher paying job. Even then he would probably have to live on Ramen for five days a week. And the other two days probably just starve.

He might even have to have two jobs, just for money to have anything extra he wanted or needed. The cold reality of his situation was starting to depress him.

That assistant position was probably already filled. That’s why Mr. Genier hadn’t called him. Maybe his gothic appearance had done him in. Or that whole paranormal thing had just really freaked them out. Or both. Probably Matthew just hadn’t liked him and had deemed him “unsuitable.” Still, he had wanted to be valued for himself as the person he was and to be accepted for his preferred appearance. That had seemed important at the time.

He felt a pang of regret suddenly. As if he had foolishly given away or let go of something he had meant to keep. But then he hadn’t really wanted the job, he reminded himself, and for good reason.

That Augere could be a psychopathic killer. Luring people to a dungeon where their bodies would never be found. Maybe the Geniers were real enough; but who was to say the person he met was a “real Genier” and not just someone who had used that name, posing as such? Jason hadn’t seen any ID. Just because some waiters were willing to play along, didn’t mean everything was as it seemed. Who was to say it wasn’t all staged? Some weird
Davids
thing; by which Jason meant part of some Cronenberg/Lynch/Mamet bizarre, elaborate setup and manipulation just like in many films he had seen. Okay, maybe he was letting his imagination run wild now: to what end or purpose would all of that be going on and possibly involve him? He couldn’t say.

He thought about calling Mr. Genier. But if he called, didn’t that mean he was interested in the job? Weren’t they supposed to notify him, one way or the other? Shouldn’t he have heard by now? It was going on three weeks already. He was feeling a little annoyed now. Even if he was going to turn them down, he should have at least heard from them by now. He remained ambivalent about calling them first.

Maybe he needed some objectivity. Something to balance his perspective. He decided to bring up the subject to his parents; throw it out there and see what they thought.

“But who is this guy, Jason? You don’t even know him or anything about him. What if he is involved in something illegal? It would be one thing if it was a company you were going to work for, but to go off and live with some guy in Boston…Jason…is there something you need to tell us?”

So not only did their fears echo his own, he now found himself defending a decision he hadn’t even made yet.

“No—there’s nothing I need to tell you, Mom. I mean, there’s nothing to tell. He’s a well-established businessman.” He was careful to avoid telling them Augere was likely even younger than himself. And he made no mention of the fact he could not find out any significant information about the guy anywhere on the internet. But then he was willing to bet lots of wealthy and eccentric people were cagey with personal information. So what did that prove?

As he tried to convince his parents the assistant job was probably a good choice for him, he also began to convince himself of it. If—and now it was really a big if—the job was still available to him, what was the harm in giving it a try? If it didn’t work out, he would at least be in a city he liked, and could find some other employment there. But, again, he just wasn’t sure. Probably a moot point now anyway.

He tried to bring the image of Augere to mind. He was finding it very difficult. He could remember only generalities: what he wore; that he was quite pale; that there was something very disquieting about him. But the exact image of him remained elusive. When he tried to focus his attention, what he was able to recall was merely the presence of him…a presence that produced a compelling and involuntary pulling toward—something… he couldn’t quite define…but something dark. It gave him a chill momentarily. If he dwelled on seeing the image of Augere in his mind, it was as if he had nearly an out-of-body experience, one which caused him to waver and to feel an unsteadiness that unsettled him. To mentally pull back from that was to feel a sense of his own volition returning. And then the memory of that feeling was not so easily banished. The intensity of that brief encounter had made him reluctant to pursue the job in the first place.

But right now, here in the familiar kitchen of his family’s home, those thoughts seemed a little foolish. He could laugh that off and shake his head at his suspicions, his vague uneasiness. He decided tomorrow he would call Mr. Genier.

Before he could do so, the following morning a letter arrived for him from New Orleans. It had gone to his old apartment, then had been returned to sender and re-mailed to his forwarded address at his parent’s home, hence the delay in reaching him.

The letter, on the law firm’s stationery, was brief and all business: he had successfully cleared the screening process. If he was still interested in the position, he was asked to contact James Genier at his convenience.

Now that he had the letter in hand, he began to feel reluctant once again. Could he really do this? Did he really want to?

It’s more money than I have ever made in my life. Maybe I would even have more take home pay, since housing is to be provided…there would still be some cost for that, I would imagine. Still, it is in Boston…. Don’t blow this Jason
.

He called Genier that afternoon.

“I’ve had time to think it over, and I accept the position, if it is still available.”