Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [43]
Well, now that’s fascinating! So this dapper dude doesn’t always know what he’s doing. My thesis is correct! Why don’t you appear now so that I can laugh at you, you impotent jerk?
I tried desperately to read the thoughts behind Michael’s words, but I couldn’t. These Mayfairs were so casually and maddeningly gifted. Maybe the man wasn’t defenseless. He was just so strong he didn’t bother to put up any defenses.
I glanced at Rowan. She was staring at my hand again. How could she not notice the sheen of my fingernails? All vampires have lustrous fingernails. Mine are like glass. She reached out, then drew back.
I had only moments here.
“Can you tell me what kind of mistake Julien made?” I asked.
“I think there’s a photograph of little Stella in a sailor dress,” Michael said, drifting off into his thoughts again. He didn’t notice anything about me. He just alternated between intense thought and looking directly into my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure there is.”
“Did you say that Stella’s brother shot her?” I asked.
“Oh, she was a woman by that time,” Michael said, half dreaming. “She’d given birth to Antha. Antha was six years old. Stella nearly ran off with a man from the Talamasca. She wanted to escape the family and the ghost that went with it. Stirling knows all about it, of course.” He looked at me as if startled. “But don’t ask Mona. Don’t say anything about all this to Mona.”
“I won’t say a word about it to Mona,” I answered.
Rowan was sensing things about me, sensing that my heart rate was far too slow for a functioning mortal. Sensing things about the way that candlelight reflected off my face.
“I’ll tell you what I think happens,” said Michael. “When they come on an errand, they leave behind the totality of salvation.”
“Ghosts, you mean,” I said.
“What was that?” Stirling asked.
“Of course, the Totality of Salvation,” I whispered. I smiled. I loved it. “Of course, they have to, don’t they? Or every haunting would be a theophany, wouldn’t it?” I flashed on Julien last night in my clutches, my questions to him coming angrily as accusations. He knew nothing about any Totality of Salvation, did he? Why, I’d already figured that out, hadn’t I? That when I’d drifted to Earth in my fantasy as Saint Lestat I had to leave behind a certain Heavenly knowledge.
“I wouldn’t trust any ghost, really,” Michael said. “I think you’re right about all that. But Julien tries to do good. He has the family’s welfare in mind when he appears. If only—.”
“If only what?” I pressed.
“Why did you ask that question about Stella?” Rowan asked. Her voice was rich yet sharp. “Where did you see Stella?” Her voice rose. “What do you know about Stella?”
“You don’t mean the ghosts have already come for Mona, do you?” asked Michael. “You realize what that means, of course. Shouldn’t we be there? Shouldn’t we be near at hand?”
“No, they haven’t come for her,” I replied. “She’ll tell us when that happens, I know she will.” But I felt the lie catch in me. They were trying to come for her, weren’t they, in some sort of grim game, or was it my soul they wanted?
I stood up.
“I’ll let you know when she needs you,” I said. “I promise you.”
“Don’t go,” said Rowan crossly but under her breath.
“Why, so you can keep studying me?” I said. I was suddenly trembling again. I didn’t know what I meant to say. “Would you like it if I gave you a sample of my blood? Is that why you’re staring at me?”
“Lestat, do be careful,” said Stirling.
“What would I do with a sample of your blood?” Rowan asked, eyes moving up and down my figure. “Do you want me to study you?” she asked coldly. “Do you want me to ask questions about you? Who you are, where you come from? I have the feeling you do. I have the feeling you’d like nothing better than to