Blackwood Farm (64 page)

51

LESTAT WAS
still covered in soot. He didn't much care about it. We rang the front doorbell of Oak Haven, and it was Stirling himself who answered, in his heavy quilted robe, and perfectly astonished to see the pair of us right there at the Retreat House of the Talamasca—two wanderers in the night.

Of course he invited us into the library and we accepted the invitation, and we settled into the big leather wing chairs that were so comfortably arranged everywhere, and Stirling told the agreeable little housekeeper that we didn't require anything, and then we were alone.

Slowly, in a broken voice, Lestat told Stirling what had happened to Merrick. He described the ceremony and how Merrick had climbed onto the altar, and what he had seen—the baby come alive, and Goblin descending into it.

And then I told Stirling what I had seen—the Light and the figures moving in the Light. Lestat had not seen this Light but he never doubted me.

“May I put this into our records?” Stirling asked. He took out his handkerchief and wiped at his nose. He was crying inside for Merrick. And then the tears came and he let them flow for a moment and then he wiped them away.

“That's why I'm telling you,” said Lestat. “So you can close your file on Merrick Mayfair, and know what became of her. So it doesn't end in silence and confusion, so you don't mourn for her forever without ever knowing where she wandered or what she became. She was a gentle soul. She preyed upon the Evil Doer only. No innocent blood ever stained her hands. And it was very deliberate what she did. And why she chose this moment I don't really know.”

“I think I know,” I said. “But I don't want to be presumptuous. She chose this moment because she wasn't alone. She had Garwain.”

“And how do you feel now that he's gone?” asked Stirling.

“Free of him,” I responded, “and rather shocked by all that's happened. Shocked that Garwain killed Aunt Queen. You knew he did that, didn't you? He frightened her and made her fall. Everyone knew it.”

“Yes,” Stirling said, “there was much talk about it at the wake. What will you do now?”

“I'm shocked that Merrick died,” I said. “Merrick freed me of Garwain. Lestat loved Merrick. I loved Merrick. I don't know what I will do or where I will go. There are people who need me. There have always been people who need me, people who matter to me. I'm enmeshed in human life.”

I thought in silence of the murder of Patsy. I wanted desperately to confess it, but I loathed myself so much for it that I didn't speak of it at all.

“That's a good way to put it,” Lestat said bitterly, “ ‘enmeshed in human life.' ”

Stirling nodded to this.

“Why don't you ask
me
what I'll do?” asked Lestat archly, with a raised eyebrow and a wink.

“Would you tell me?” asked Stirling with a little laugh.

“Of course not,” said Lestat. “But I'm in love with Tarquin, you can put that in your file, if you like. That doesn't mean you can entrap me at Blackwood Manor, and you do remember your promise to me to leave Tarquin alone, don't you?”

“Absolutely,” said Stirling. “I'm a man who keeps his promises.”

“I have a question for you,” I said shyly. “I've talked to Michael Curry and Rowan Mayfair several times in the last few months, but they only put me off with vague answers. They won't really tell me much about Mona except that she can't see me, that she's undergoing a special therapy, that she's in intensive care. They say she can die from any kind of infection. I can't even talk to her on the phone—.”

“She's dying,” Stirling said. He sat staring at me.

Silence.

Then Lestat spoke:

“Why are you telling him this?”

Stirling was still looking at me.

“Because he wants to know,” Stirling responded.

“Very well,” said Lestat. “Come on, Little Brother, let's hunt. I know of two Evil Doers in Boca Raton who are alone in a magnificent waterfront mansion. It will be such fun, you wouldn't believe. Good night, Stirling. Good night to the Talamasca. Let's go.”

52

THE SKY WAS
still a deep lavender when I walked into the house the following night. Lestat was lingering in the cemetery saying some last prayer for Merrick, or to Merrick, I wasn't sure which.

Our hunting last night in Boca Raton had been marvelous and he had once again given me the gift of his all-powerful blood and I was exhilarated and confused and praying in my own way for some sign of what to do about Mona, wondering if I could just see her and talk to her; if I went to Mayfair Medical and insisted, could I perhaps use some spellbinding power to get to where she was? One last glimpse . . . one last talk.

But suddenly Jasmine and Clem both came rushing up to me at the foot of the stairs.

“There's a crazy woman in your bedroom,” said Jasmine. “There was nothing we could do to stop her, Quinn. It's Mona Mayfair, you remember her? She's up there, Quinn. She drove here in a limousine full of flowers, Quinn, and she's a living skeleton, you're gonna die when you see her. Quinn, wait, we couldn't stop her. Only reason we helped her with all those flowers is she was so weak.”

“Jasmine, lemme go!” I shouted. “I love her, don't you understand?”

“Quinn, she's got something wrong with her! Be careful!”

I ran up the stairs as fast as any mortal man dared and rushed into my bedroom and slammed the door shut and locked it.

She rose up to greet me. A living skeleton! Oh yes! And the bed was covered with her flowers. I stood there shocked to the core of my being, shocked and so glad to see her, so glad to rush to her and take her fragile form in my arms! My Mona, my frail and withering Mona, my pale and magnificent Mona, oh, my God, don't let me hurt you.

“I love you, my beloved Ophelia,” I said, “my Ophelia Immortal, and mine always . . .”

Oh, look at the roses, the marguerites, the zinnias, the lilies.

“Noble Abelard,” she whispered. “I've come to ask the ultimate sacrifice; I've come to ask, let me die here, let me die with you here, let me die here instead of there with their needles and their tubes, let me die in your bed.”

I drew back. I could see the entire outline of her skull beneath her skin, and the bones of her shoulders underneath the spotted hospital gown that she wore. Only her full red hair had been spared. Her arms were like sticks, and her hands were the same. It was ghastly, the sight. She suffered with every breath.

“Oh, my darling, my sweetheart, thank God you came to me,” I told her, “but can't you see what's happened to me? Can't your witch's eyes see? I'm not human anymore. I'm not your Noble Abelard. I don't sleep where the rays of the sun can reach me. Look at me, Mona, look at me. Do you want to be what I am?” What was I saying? I was mad. I couldn't stop myself. “Do you want to be what I am?” I asked again. “Because you won't die if you want to be what I am! If you'll live off the blood of others forever. You'll be immortal with me.”

I heard the lock of my door turn. I was outraged, then silenced. It was Lestat who entered.

Mona stared in astonishment. He had removed his sunglasses, and he stood under the gasolier as if he was bathing in its light.

“Let me work the Dark Trick, Quinn,” he said. “That way, you'll be much closer to your princess. Let me take her for you with my strong blood, and that way your minds won't be closed to each other. I'm a past master at such Dark Tricks, Quinn. Mona, would you know our secrets?” He came to her. “Make your choice, pretty girl. You can always choose the Light some other night,
cherie
. Ask Quinn if you doubt it. He's seen it. He's seen the Light of Heaven with his own eyes.”

She clung to me while he talked to her, pacing the floor, back and forth, telling her so many things—how it was with us, the rules, the limitations, the way he violated the rules and the limitations, the way the strong and the old survived, the way the new ones went into the flames. On and on he talked, and she clung to me, my Ophelia in her nest of flowers, with her legs so fragile and her whole little body trembling, oh, sweet Ophelia Immortal.

“Yes. I want it,” she said.

ALSO BY ANNE RICE

Interview with the Vampire

The Feast of All Saints

Cry to Heaven

The Vampire Lestat

The Queen of the Damned

The Mummy

The Witching Hour

The Tale of the Body Thief

Lasher

Taltos

Memnoch the Devil

Servant of the Bones

Violin

Pandora

The Vampire Armand

Vittorio, The Vampire

Merrick

Blood and Gold

UNDER THE NAME ANNE RAMPLING

Exit to Eden

Belinda

UNDER THE NAME A. N. ROQUELAURE

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty

Beauty's Punishment

Beauty's Release

 

THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK
PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

Copyright © 2002 by Anne O'Brien Rice
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and distributed
by Random House, Inc., New York.

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eISBN:
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