Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [75]
“It’s not true,” I said softly. “Even the damned can learn. It isn’t like it says in our prayer books. Even vampires and angels can learn. God has to be an all-merciful God. Nobody is beyond redemption.”
“Redemption!” she whispered. “How can I ever be redeemed?”
“Darling, don’t say that,” said Michael.
“You can never love this girl enough,” said Dolly Jean. “Every morning she gets up, eats breakfast and goes to Hell, I swear it.”
Rowan smiled at me. In the pale light she looked girl-like, the lineaments of her face so refined and smooth, her gray eyes resting for the moment before they began their feverish searching again.
Oh to know the kiss of your lips, for your love is better than blood.
A pause. Her lawfully wedded husband distracted, unaware, and Rowan’s eyes fixed on mine.
Forgive me.
“But I’m skipping all around in time,” she said. “This is not an orderly story, is it?” She looked around herself, as if surprised to discover the garden and the dark, and the bottles glimmering in the light and the pretty shine of the glasses.
“Go on, Rowan, please,” I said.
“Yes. Let me go back,” she said, “to when Merrick Mayfair disappeared, yes.” She nodded. “But overall, you see, I had heard and I had seen, and I told Michael these things, and Michael just listened as he always does to terrible things, with that ominous yet charming Celtic gloom growing ever greater in him year by year, but when I talked to Stirling I could see in his face that he understood everything. He wanted to meet Tante Oscar. And he did. He would only say, however, that they missed Merrick Mayfair, and nothing more than that.
“Then Lauren Mayfair, you know, the great lawyer of the firm of Mayfair and Mayfair, who knows all things legal and therefore knows nothing, she took it into her arid little mind to find out about this strange disappearance of a Mayfair who might just need her white family. Crap.”
“Right on,” said Dolly Jean. She took another slug from the bottle. “Lauren was just up in arms to find out a Mayfair of any kind was in the Talamasca, that’s what she didn’t like.”
“She knew the house where Merrick Mayfair had been born,” Rowan said, “and she checked it out and found that Merrick Mayfair still owned it. She went downtown. And whatever she saw frightened her. She called me. She said, ‘It’s renovated like a palace down there in a dangerous neighborhood, and all the neighbors are terrified to go near it. I want you to come with me.’ And so I said I would. I was still laughing from that strange encounter with Tante Oscar. I thought, why not go downtown? I only have a hospital and research center to finish. Who am I to say that I’m too busy to do it?
“Dolly Jean said that we were fools to do such a thing—you just don’t go near a Blood Child, specially if you know what it is, but if we were determined to go then do it after nightfall. A Blood Child only walked in the dark, and Dolly Jean said furthermore that we were to go by the front gate, very strictly, and knock on the front door, and not to do an untoward thing that would give a Blood Child legitimate cause to hurt us. (Dolly Jean was nodding and cackling all through this speech.) Then we rang up Tante Oscar, who heard our ring through the refrigerator door, and said all the same things all over again. Lauren Mayfair was fit to be tied, as they say here. She said she had had a bellyful of congenital insanity in the Mayfair family before her twenty-first birthday. She said if one more person used the words ‘Blood Child’ to her she would sue. So I said, naturally, ‘Well, why don’t we call them vampires?’ ”
Mona burst out laughing and so Dolly Jean laughed so hard she had to pound the table with her left fist. She almost choked. Mona finally dissolved into giggles. Michael gestured to them to be quiet. Rowan was obviously waiting.
Rowan went on, her eyes fixing on