The Art of Darkness (Part 7)
“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.” -Friedrich Nietzsche
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
We drove for hours, the first of which Morvinus had us going in erratic patterns, I assumed to make sure we weren't being followed. After a while, he relaxed a bit and we settled into an uneasy silence, with neither of us having much of an appetite for conversation. The rain continued to pelt the windshield in waves, thunder rumbling in and out, more a light thump now than the foreboding crash it was before. We kept our silence except for the occasional remark about the weather or how much longer we would go before stopping.
“A bit further,” he would answer.
I finally had to put my foot down. I was getting hungry, and I knew he would be as well.
“Morvinus, we've got to stop. You're going to need to feed soon and I'm exhausted. Please.”
His jaw clenched, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, but he obliged, pulling into the parking lot of a small roadside motel.
“We can stay here. You rest and I will see to some food for you.” He wouldn't look at me.
“And what about you?”
“I will be fine waiting for nightfall.”
“And then what?”
Silence.
“Morvinus–”
“Amber, you know what I am. I can not change that. I must feed.”
“Then stay. Use me. Feed on me.”
Finally turning his gaze, his expression softened, more melancholy.
“Need I remind you, I nearly killed you last time.”
“It’s different now.”
“How? Am I any less a vampire than I was before?”
“You won't kill me.”
“Neither you nor I know that for certain. And, unless something changes, this is how it must be.” He sighed, his cold demeanor returning. “I will procure us a room. Stay here.”
Stepping out of the car, he disappeared inside and I was left unsettled. A heaviness had found its way into the air. Stifling. The pit in my stomach had reappeared with a vengeance. No matter my feelings, my love for him, the realities of his nature could not be ignored. I could pretend that it didn't bother me thinking about what he would be doing. Funny enough, I found myself more concerned about his safety than anything else, an equally disturbing thought. He's committing murder, you know. There goes my conscience again. Not to mention, sleeping around. Not exactly a faithful or virtuous man. Who knows how many victims he has behind him. It's not rational, this love you have for him.
“Yes, I know,” I whispered aloud, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
“You know what?”
Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even hear the car door open when Morvinus came back.
“Nothing.”
“I was able to get us a room on the far side of the motel. It faces the forest so it should block the view of the car from the main road.”
I racked my brain for a solution, even a mere distraction, something to keep my mind away from dark places. Then, a glimmer of hope.
“Morvinus—“
“We should not stay more than a night or two to be safe.”
“Morvinus—“
“Hmm? Yes?”
He was still distracted, focused on pulling the car around.
“Give me my phone.”
“No, Amber, it is too dangerous.”
“Fine. Can I use yours then?”
“We can not take the risk, mine is likely compromised as well. The room should have a phone if you–”
“I don’t want to make a call, I want to look something up. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”
“What is it?”
“You remember the book I showed you? The one Father Andrews–“ My voice caught.
He gave my hand a gentle squeeze and I sucked in a staggered breath, trying to tamper the lump in my throat.
“It’s a journal. Well, one of them anyway.”
“To whom does it belong?”
“A German scientist, Dr. Albrect Bachmann.”
“A scientist?”
“A human who studied vampires, like me. Extensively, by the sound of it.”
“That would explain the symbol on the cover.”
“That’s not all. According to this journal, he and a female vampire fell in love. They had a child together, Morvinus.”
His eyes widened, “New blood. The added rib on the dragon's wing. But, I don't understand. How is this possible?”
“I don't know. Father Andrews told me this was the only one he knew of still in existence. But I can't shake the feeling that I've seen his name before. I thought, maybe doing a bit of research might–”
“No, Amber, no. You need to stop. This mindless pursuit will only lead to more danger.” His tone sharpened as he put the car in park. “You must understand, the Vampiric Guard has immense resources at their disposal and they will stop at nothing to find us and kill us both.”
“I'm tired of running, Morvinus! You said avoiding it was no life at all. Neither is one on the run. It's just…surviving. I would rather die.”
“You know not what you say.”
“Yes, yes I do. In the last several days, my cat has been murdered, a needle jammed into my neck, God knows what that was for, I almost lost the man I love, not to mention being bitten and almost killed. The excuse I've given to my father and Dr. Isaacs about being on vacation will only last so long.”
“And if we are somehow able to garner more information about this Dr. Bachmann, what then? How will that help us now?”
“I don't know!” I sank back into the seat. “I don't know. But I can't sit here and do nothing.”
Abruptly, he got out of the car and opened my door, holding out a hand. “Come. You need food and rest.”
Begrudgingly, I stepped out of the car, not bothering to take his hand. I knew it was petty and immature, but I didn't have the energy to be civil. Not after everything we had been through. As he held the heavy motel door open for me, I couldn't help but feel the full weight of it as it closed behind us. Nothing but bars on our new temporary prison.
The room was small, modest, a smell of dust and old pine permeating throughout. The bulky curtains drowned what little light came through the window, leaving the room dark and musty. One bed. He won't be sleeping in it. Throwing the journal on the bedside table, I collapsed onto the bedspread. I didn't care how many dust bunnies I sent scrambling with my impact, nor did I take note of the stains on the pillow. I vaguely heard the door latch as he left but I was already drifting.
When I awoke, the room had grown even more dim, if that was possible, illuminated only by a small desk lamp in the corner. Night had fallen. I was so tired before I hadn't realized what position I had lain in, and how awful a position it was, until this moment. Pushing off from the bed, my back was groaning, my arm half asleep, and my neck throbbing. I walked to the bathroom, turning on the light to take a look at myself for the first time in days, a bit terrified as to what I might find. I was shocked at the sight. Not a trace of a mark. As though the attack, his feed, had never happened. I didn't know what to think.
As I poured over every inch of my neck, searching for any sign, an even more alarming thought crossed my mind. Why am I not a vampire? I had always assumed a bite, if it didn't kill me, would at least come with the risk of being turned. Yet, here I stood, no intense cravings for blood, no unusual symptoms. My skin had always been pale, but it wasn't abnormally so. And unless it had all been a dream, I sustained two bites from two different vampires. Nothing. It was a worry I hadn't considered until now.
In a daze, I stumbled out of the bathroom back into the main room, slumping into a chair by the desk. I looked over to see a fast food bag seated neatly beside a note.
Dearest Amber,
You had already fallen asleep by the time I returned and I did not wish to awaken you. I have left you some provisions, I hope to your liking. Stay here and I shall return before sunrise.
I love you.
His initials scrolled across the bottom, it was the most elegant and beautifully scripted text I had ever seen, sending my heart lurching once again. My stomach grumbled but I couldn't stomach the food just yet. Despite Morvinus' wishes, I refused to give up on my quest. So, I straightened myself up as much as I could and walked out towards the front lobby.
The reception area was musky, to say the least, speaking to all sorts of sordid stories and illicit activities I didn't want to think about. The stark fluorescent light nearly blinded me as I came in the door, made worse by the incessant flickering. A slender man had his ankles crossed, feet propped on the desk, arms folded on his belly, his head rolled back, snoring loudly. A small bell sat nudged up against the register and I reached over to press the button.
Before I could, however, the man startled awake, retreating the line of drool that had just tried to escape, straightening his glasses.
“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m hoping you can help me. My phone isn’t working and I really need somewhere I can access the internet. I don’t suppose you have a computer I can use?”
His mouth turned the corner into a small grin. “Oh yeah, you’re with that guy. That strange fellow that checked in earlier today.”
“Strange fellow?”
“He’s a weird one, believe me. I see them all the time. Just something not natural about this one. I’d cut and run if I were you.”
“I’d settle for being able to use a computer.”
His face soured, “Yeah all right. Around the corner, down the hall. Second door on your left.” He didn’t wait to finish his directions before he replaced his feet, settling back into the position in which I found him.
“Thank you.”
While the duct taped label on the door said “Internet Cafe,” it felt more like a converted broom cupboard than anything else. Dark and cramped. The keyboard had seen better days and half the keys were covered in some kind of sticky film but I was determined, and it beat the uncomfortable silence of our room.
I kept the journal with me, tucking it into the pocket of my jacket, squeezing the binding to remind myself of why I was there. It seems as though I sat there for hours plugging his name into each available search engine with little to no luck. Aside from an occasional mention here and there, I couldn’t find much about him at all. Scrolling through entry after entry, my eyes beginning to cross and ache from the strain, I finally found something promising. The mention was in passing, but it noted the name of a library where I might find more entries to his journals. A library I knew all too well. Morvinus wasn’t going to like this.
When I went back to the room, it was quiet. Too quiet. Even with the television on, I sat, fidgety and anxious. Waiting on his return. This is what I had feared, the waiting. My mind was already in convoluted territory and giving it time to contemplate was a bad idea. I tried to bring myself to eat but it was no use.
He loves you, he said it himself. What he does with those other women is purely for feeding, nothing more. There I was making excuses for him again. Like it didn’t bother me. The “M” word kept its prominent place among my thoughts. How do I rectify what I call “murder” with what he calls “feeding”?
The television was on but I wasn’t watching, too distracted to pay that much attention. I had lost all track of time or place. Just stuck.
When Morvinus returned, it was nearly three in the morning. Yet, despite the late hour, I couldn't sleep, drowning my panicked anxieties in the pages of the journal instead, pouring over every word.
He smiled at me as he came through the door, the bitterness of his earlier soured mood all but gone.
“I did not expect you to be awake, still, it brings me joy to see.”
His eyes were less sunken, less sallow now. I knew why, though I didn’t dare ask him about it. He took off his jacket, laying it across a chair near the door, and came over to me, extending a hand. When I put mine across his open palm, he pulled me into him, his free hand slipping around my waist. And he swayed. It was only then I realized the soft music emanating from the television. We were…dancing.
Despite the strangeness of it, I couldn’t help but smile myself. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing with my girl.”
He kissed me and the heat flurried in my cheeks.
As we continued our impromptu waltz around the shaggy orange carpet, his expression saddened.
“I may have been a bit unfair to you. As a vampire, we are used to living in shadow, hoarding secrets, always prepared to relocate if the need arises. I forget that you are not used to that life. I do not wish for us to fight. Please, forgive me.”
Oh boy, confession time. I braced myself. “Morvinus, I have something to tell you.”
“Oh?”
“Please, don't be angry. I may have used a computer in the lobby to do some research on Dr. Bachmann while you were gone.”
“Oh, Amber,” he uttered, letting our dance fade as he backed away, sitting, head in his hand, on the edge of the bed.
“I found something.”
Looking up at me, he tightened his lips. “You are not giving up on this, are you?”
“I can't, Morvinus, I'm sorry.”
“What did you find?”
“It looks like I might have a way to access some of his other journals.”
“Where are they?”
I cringed, “That's the bad news. They’re at the university library.”
“No, Amber–” He shook his head.
“Look, they’re open twenty-four hours a day so we can go anytime–”
“And what about the Guard? What if they have left spies behind, waiting for your return?”
I sat myself down beside him. “Maybe you can ignore this, but I can't shake the feeling these journals are the key to everything. I have to know. This isn't just about research for a degree anymore. My life may depend on it. Our lives may depend on it. Isn't that worth the risk?”
“There is no guarantee, you know.”
“I know. But I have to try. It’s the only direction I know to go in that isn’t around in circles.”
He stared at me and sighed, “All right, all right. Allow me a few hours rest and we will go. And you still need to eat, I see.”
I threw my arms around him, knocking him into the bedspread. “Thank you,” I whispered.
My stomach at full function again, and with food finally inhaled, I crawled beside him on the bed. He enveloped me in his embrace, already drifting, planting a frozen kiss on my forehead. And, for a moment, I retreated back to his world. Back into the lily-filled paradise he had created for us.
A new mission on our radar, much to his dismay, we made the journey back to where this had all started. The sun had finally sent much of the rain and cloud cover scurrying, something which presented a new obstacle. Or, so I thought.
Looking over at him from the passenger seat of the car, a strangely normal pair of sunglasses upon his nose, it was still hard for me to comprehend what I was seeing. The story Father Andrews had told about how he survived the sun under the canopy of the forest, while I believed every word, went against everything I thought I knew about vampires. Morvinus assured me the tint on the vehicle windows would be enough and, as long as we didn't spend too much time in between the car and the confines of the library, he would be fine. Still, the sheer amount of things I didn't know about vampires piled up even higher.
When we arrived, the sun was already setting. A gust of frigid winter air had found its strength, blasting us with its icy breath as we made our way to the door. Thankfully, Angela was working today, a fellow student I had gotten to know well during my dissertation studies, so she let us slide in without having my student identification card.
When we arrived at the posted location, however, I couldn't find it anywhere. No sign of anything with Dr. Bachmann's name on it.
“It should be here,” I whispered, pointing to the now empty shelf.
I scrambled back to Angela's desk. “Hey Ang, I can't find what I'm looking for. The online catalogue says it should be here, but it isn't.”
“Hmm, okay, let me see,” she said, her fingers scurrying across her keyboard. “Ah, well, there's your problem. According to this, the collection was on loan from a private owner but has since been returned.”
“When?”
“Just yesterday by the looks of it. I guess the database just hasn't been updated yet.”
“I don't suppose you could tell me who that private owner is, could you?”
Her expression skewed. “Well,”
“Please, Ang, it's really important.”
She sighed. “Don’t tell anyone I told you. Looks like there were four in the collection, all on loan from the Isaacs family.”
My breath staggered. “The Isaacs family? As in Dr. Trevor Isaacs?”
“One and the same.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Amber, are you all right?” Panic resounded in his voice.
I stumbled away from the desk, hampered by the immenseness of the heavy weight suddenly thrust upon me. Dr. Isaacs, my mentor, my boss, the one person who had been my only ally during all my research.
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Perhaps he does not know what they contain.”
“He knows. Believe me, I know him well enough. There isn't a book in his library he hasn't read.” I straightened myself up, tugging on the bottom of my shirt, marching back toward the car. “Morvinus, I need to ask another favor of you.”
His eyes grew wide, “Amber, no. Are you mad?”
“I am now.”
Continued in Part 8
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