Lure of the Night Page 6

  “So you’re serious about this modeling thing, Claire? I thought about it afterwards, it could be good for you.”

  “Joanne,” I said loudly, for all of their benefit, “I am not planning to be a model. I was pulling your chain, it was a joke, just something to say. I’m sorry.”

  She was stunned, I got out my book and tried to concentrate. The teacher walked into class but Joanne’s mouth was still opening and closing like a goldfish. The prospect of being a ‘friend of a celebrity’ had evaporated. She didn’t talk to me after class, just left in a bad mood.

  After school, I went out the front door to cross the yard. Stella was there with Fiona.

  “How’s the famous model today?” she started, her eyes blazing as usual. I realized that their detention must have ended. Pity. How about trying life imprisonment without parole?

  “Ok, I guess,” I flipped out as I went past them. Fiona stuck out a foot to try and trip me but it was an old ploy and I stepped around it. I heard one of them send a curse at my back but they’d need to do better than that. My exit run still wasn’t clear, David Brougham loomed in front of me.

  “Claire, I think you’re crazy.”

  As a pick up line it wasn’t the warmest, most direct way to a girl’s heart I’d ever heard.

  “Gee, thanks David.”

  “Nah, I mean, crazy nice. I didn’t care about all that model crap anyway.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Think about it, you’re not really cut out for that kind of life, are you?”

  I couldn’t imagine why not. I wasn’t thin as a piece of stripped bamboo, wasn’t regal and elegant, didn’t have a flawless complexion, wasn’t always perfectly made up, hair glossy, immaculate and without a strand out of place and I didn’t have the innate ability to walk on shoes with heels high enough to need planning permits, but apart from that, yeah, I’d be fine.

  “So I’m crazy and not good enough to be a model. Anything else before I leave, David?”

  The poor guy looked a bit stricken. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. Thing is, Claire, I like you, I’d like to, sort of, hang out with you.”

  My radar antenna shot up. He wasn’t my type, really. I wasn’t his type either. We both knew it, so what was behind all this? We stood for a while in silence, I could see Mom’s car outside.

  “Er, what did you want, David?”

  “I’m stuck with my science essay, I er, wondered if you might be able to, er, take a look at it.”

  At least he was honest. “I’ll think about it, ask me next week.”

  He nodded and I walked away. An interesting day at school, Joanna upset, Stella’s witch coven still hacking away at me, David trying to con me into writing his essay. Yep, about average. The rest of the week at school was little better, each day I tried to find out more about what had happened on Andros, each day I tried to keep away from my tormentors. But I couldn’t find out anything new and I became more and more frustrated.

  Finally,I was able to breathe a sigh of relief, it was Friday afternoon. At least school was finished for another week. Hold up, Mom had a face like one of those big fish you see on a slab in the market.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “Hi, Mom, what’s up?”

  She looked surprised. “Why should anything be up?”

  “Mom!”

  “I lost my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do, Claire.”

  She was almost in tears. Ok, so it truly was a full house, just about everyone I knew had issues and problems, and Ethan was still missing, presumed…No, he wasn’t dead! I didn’t take any notice of what the old woman had said, whatever her name was. In my dream it was Eupraxia, but no, it would be something else. She said he couldn’t die, well that was all bullshit, of course. I was going out there this weekend, during civilized, daylight hours this time, and try and find out more from her. My attention went back to Mom, I felt so sorry for her, she was stricken, her face pale. She drove home in silence, biting her lip occasionally to stop herself from crying.

  She was bad company that evening, only to be expected, moping around, weeping and wailing. “Oh, Claire, I wish your father hadn’t left me.”

  My father! I remembered what Ethan had said, ‘ask your father’. But ask him about what, when did I ever even see him? I wished I could spend more time with him, but his visits were few, and far between. Him and Mom didn’t get on well, no not at all, as if there was some unspoken nastiness between them.

  “Yeah, me too. I kind of miss having him around. Do you know what he’s doing these days?”

  “Last I heard, he’d moved to New Orleans, he set up a company there.”

  “A company? What do they do?”

  “Same as he did before, some kind of travel excursion outfit.”

  “Is it successful?”

  Mom thought for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Funny kind of business, weird customers, he organizes trips to Europe, some the old communist countries, I think Bulgaria was one. Greece, Serbia, places like that.”

  Greece! Now this was getting interesting. I hadn’t seen my dad in a long time and it seemed he had connections in Greece. He might, just might be able to find out about Andros, about Ethan even.

  “How can I contact him, Mom? I’d like to get to know my dad more after all this time, it’s been too long.”

  She looked shocked. “Why would you want to get in touch with him, I’m not too happy, after all, it’s been so long?”

  But she didn’t say it with much conviction. Then she surprised me, I was trying to work out how to engineer a meeting with him when she said, “Actually, I’m meeting your father tomorrow, he’s in the area and he’s coming to talk to me about my alimony. We’re trying to work things out now that I’m not earning.”

  “Fine, I’ll come with you then.”

  She didn’t say yes, she didn’t say no. That was a better result than I normally got. The following evening we were sitting in the living room of a five star hotel in town with my father and his girlfriend.

  Megan Waterhouse wasn’t like I had expected. Nor was my dad. I thought he’d look, well, more like the father of a fifteen year old, older and a bit worn. He looked terrific, fit and pretty cool, like a guy of about twenty-five. Megan Waterhouse looked even younger. We did the usual things, hugs and kisses, how are you, what are you up to, how’s school? Then he and Mom went off to talk business. Megan was more like a big sister than the big wicked cross between a hooker and a withered old witch that Mom had painted her. Like Dad, she looked really good, in fact she looked more like Dad’s sister than his girlfriend, they were so alike, kind of dark hair and eyes, ivory skin, and an elegance that was, well, like something that was in their genes. I wondered if I would age like that, I wouldn’t complain. They were so alike that I wasn’t at all surprised that Dad had gone off with her. I felt guilty, disloyal to Mom for even thinking that way, but people had to live their lives as they wanted to. We got chatting some more and then I asked her about the business they were in.

  “You know about that?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes, of course, I know all about the business. Tell me, do you know anything about Andros? I was going to ask Dad, but he’s tied up with Mom.”

  She nodded slowly, “Right, well I guess I can tell you. Andros is a pretty hot destination, or used to be. It’s been devastated in the earthquake, but they’ll have the important parts rebuilt for the ceremonies.”

  “Ceremonies?”

  “Yes, twice a year, like the other places.”

  “What kind of ceremonies would they be?”

  “You know, the regular gatherings, although we have to be careful, our enemies are getting stronger.”

  I shook my head, this was not what I wanted to hear, this wedding or anniversary or enemy shit. Enemies, did she mean business rivals?

  “Well, what about all these vampire stories on the island?”

  “Well, yes, we try to keep it quiet, but people talk.”

&
nbsp; Oh, my God!

  Chapter 4

  I guess that in that moment the daylight dawned, a growing awareness started to seep into my mind. Life had always been like a jigsaw puzzle, lots of little pieces scattered across a table in some sort of random pattern. But if nobody tells you it’s a jigsaw, how can you ever work it out? All those years, feeling so different, like some sort of a freak, like they were always looking at me, other kids, adults. You read self-help books and surf the ‘net, find out about stuff like Asperger’s Syndrome, Autism, all the modern buzz-words and phrases. The pearls of wisdom that spew out of the mouths of these positive thinking gurus like ‘I positively guarantee that if you buy my book or come to my seminar, you’ll feel much better about yourself. Oh, and incidentally, I’ll be a bit richer too’. These people make everyone feel like they have something lacking, usually their latest book. But how can you fix something that isn’t broken? If the way you are is the way you are wired, like John, my step-cousin, what’s to fix? He was born gay, no amount of self-help crap or revivalist preacher thundering about God’s will was ever going to change what was fundamentally inside.

  I understood all at once maybe I was different. Dad was involved in some mysterious thing that was involved with the Island of Andros, as well as other places with dark histories. I had his blood running in my veins so where did that leave me? How did it affect me? The puzzle went around and around, Andros, vampires, Eupraxia and her crazy warnings, the mad priest pounding away at me, the dream when Ethan appeared. Yes, I had his genes. I was part of him. But what part, and how did that make me different? And I was still no further forward on Andros, or the fate of Ethan. Was that why I was attracted to him, because of his connection with the odd happenings on Andros that also involved my father? Was Ethan truly different, was I really different? Or just a mixed up fifteen-year old kid?

  “Megan, you lived in the town before you, er, you know…”

  “Ran off with your father?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Did you know the Andros family?”

  “Of course I did, they went on our excursions several times to the island they’re named after, Andros.”

  “I see, right. I went over to their house the other day, they were away, their housekeeper said they were away visiting Andros.”

  “Oh yes, Eupraxia, she’s really lovely, isn’t she? But she’s not really their housekeeper. She’s a relation.”

  So her name was Eupraxia. How the hell could that be? It had just been a dream when Ethan told me, I was sure of that.

  Dad came back and sat down.

  “You’re looking good, honey. School ok?”

  “Yeah, Dad, it’s fine.”

  We chatted for a while, he asked me more about school, life in general. Then it was my turn.

  “So what’s this business thing you’re doing down in New Orleans?”

  “Nothing special, we just organize tours, excursions and stuff to Europe.”

  “So tell me about Andros, Dad.”

  He looked across at Mom. I saw her give him a sharp, warning look. What was going on, I wondered? How much did she know, what hadn’t she told me?

  “It’s just a Greek island, very popular, got hit with an earthquake.”

  “So what about these vampire stories, tell me about those?”

  There was a long pause, Mom was looking at him very warily. She knew something.

  “Another time, honey. Anyway, you should know there are no such things as vampires.”

  I saw Mom relax. I didn’t argue, I sensed that I’d have to push it later. It is always better to fight the battles when you know you have already won them. Didn’t some Greek philosopher say that? It always seemed to come back to Greece these days. But he didn’t want to discuss it and I was sure I knew why. Dad just didn’t know yet that that he would be telling me before much longer, whether he liked it or not.

  “What about the Andros family?”

  Another pause, then, “Mom said you met the Andros boy, Ethan.”

  “I did, yes.”

  “They went to Andros, you knew that?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, there was an earthquake that wiped out the whole population.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

  “So what do you want to know?”

  “I want to know if Ethan’s family survived.”

  It was like trying to get water out of the desert, drop by drop I was getting it but it wasn’t being given up willingly.

  “Right.”

  More shuffling of feet, pregnant pauses, looks from beneath eyebrows.

  “It’s a simple question, Dad, did they survive or not?”

  “Well yes, they did.”

  “Because they cannot die?” I fired back at him.

  He was really rocked then. “What do you know, Claire, who’ve you been talking to?”

  For some reason I looked across the restaurant then, I was trying to get my thoughts together. Father Ryan was at the next table, having dinner with his sister, Stella. My chief tormentor Stella. She had clearly been listening to our conversation, which meant they both had. Her lips were twisted into a nasty, triumphant smile. But her brother’s expression was something entirely different.

  His look was malevolent, truly evil, filled with hate and spite. His face had gone red, his eyes blazed, he almost appeared to be shaking with rage. No, I looked again, he was actually was shaking with rage. Then he couldn’t contain himself any longer, he got up and came to our table.

  “Do you know the reward for lying in bed with Satan? It is blasphemous and sinful and the wages of sin are death. Your very presence in this town, Winter, is a blight on our community, to all decent, hardworking people. You are a disgrace, a foul pestilence on our society, a cesspit of dark iniquity.”

  To his credit, Dad was totally unmoved, as if he’d dealt with lunatics like this in the past.

  “Hiya, Ben, how are you doing?” he replied to the apoplectic priest.

  “I am doing God’s work,” Father Ryan replied. “He will smash sinners like you and your kind, grind them into dust.”

  “No forgiveness, eh? You haven’t changed, Ben. Still the same old fanatic. I bet you get the old ladies twitching during your Sunday sermons. Maybe I’ll come and listen sometime, I could do with some entertainment.”

  Ryan glared at Dad, his hate growing in intensity, if his red face turning to purple was anything to go by.

  “You may mock, Winter, but your day is coming. I read that your evil little island was wiped out by an earthquake, you know that was God’s doing.”

  “Really? So where was your God when thousands of innocent people were killed, Ben?”

  “They were sacrifices in the name of God’s work, they will get their reward in heaven.”

  “Reward for what, Ben? My customers were all untouched.”

  Ryan looked as if he was about to launch himself at Dad, who was obviously enjoying winding up the priest. Ryan shook violently but seemed unable to get his words together. Dad went on with his calm response.

  “So your God sacrificed thousands of innocents for nothing Ben. Bit of an own goal for him, wasn’t it? But then again, he is only your part-time employer, isn’t he, Ben? What about your main work, plenty of mischief to make there?”

  That was it, he went totally crazy then. Foam was literally coming out of his mouth as he struggled to find the words to deal with my dad, the usual spray of spittle started to flick out. I noticed Dad edge back to stop it hitting his shirt front.

  “I curse you, Guy Winter. Curse you and all who have dealings with you, you are all cursed. Damn you all.”

  Then he stamped out of the restaurant, Stella hurrying after him, her face now screwed up in hate as she looked at our table. The whole room went silent with embarrassment, the manager rushed over to us. “I’m truly sorry, that was a disgraceful display. May I bring you a fresh round of drinks?”

  Dad nodded. “Yeah, that would be fine, but don’t worry, we’re ok.”


  “I think we’ve got some things to discuss, Claire, you must be curious about all this, this enmity between me and Father Ben Ryan.”

  “Yeah, that would be a start.” I thought of Ryan, his mad eyes glowing a bright, artificial red at the height of his anger. Not natural.

  “What was that about his main work, being a priest was only part-time? What did you mean, Dad?”

  “Not here, Guy, please,” Mom intervened quickly. “We live in this town. At least, I live here with Claire, don’t make it any worse than it is.”

  “How would you like to come and visit me in New Orleans, Claire, we’ll talk about everything then?”

  Mom and I spoke together.

  I said, “That would be great.”

  She said, “No way, she’s too young to go down there on her own.”

  “Catherine, Hurricane Katrina’s over now, the place is practically rebuilt.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of Hurricane Katrina, I was thinking of you filling her head with all of that mumbo-jumbo nonsense.”

  I was listening intently, it seemed that I knew so little about my family. Mumbo-jumbo, what the hell was that all about? Mom spoke as if I didn’t want to know, as if any fifteen-year old girl wouldn’t want to know, as if.

  “Look, there’s nothing you need to concern yourself with down there, none of this mumbo-jumbo stuff as you call it, no séances or witches covens,” he stopped and laughed.

  “For God’s sake, she’s fifteen-years old, Catherine, she should be able to visit her father.”

  They argued back and forth for ages, Megan looked at me sympathetically, smiled and raised her eyebrows. I liked her, she was attractive, exotic, interesting. I looked forward to spending time with her as well as Dad, if they could come to some agreement. Which they did, eventually I heard them starting to discuss travel arrangements and I knew that I was on the way to New Orleans. And what else? It was rumored to be a place of mystery, dark practices, voodoo, whatever. It would make a change from the small town I lived in, which was so dull. I might even like it so much that I could persuade Mom to let me stay there with Dad, visions of me in school, mixing with dark-faced voodoo practitioners and pale-faced white magicians. Yes! Except that I couldn’t do that, Ethan lived here. Damn, that was a problem.