25. JULES
JULES
I took a moment to savour the solitude as I opened the door to my new home – temporary home, I amended – and stepped inside.
Staying at the manor had been fine for a short time, but it had been a relief when Dad and Rachel had finally moved into their new house leaving me free to take over Zara’s flat.
I stiffened as I caught the faint scent of jasmine. Someone else was here. Feigning ignorance of their presence, I threw my keys down on the little table inside the door and let my eyes focus on the shadows while I waited to see what they’d do. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Hello Jules.” Oh fuck, no. Not this again.
“Get out. You’re not welcome here.”
“I thought you might say that, but I just want a chance to explain. To apologise. Please?”
I flicked on the light, and even if I hadn’t instantly recognised the voice, Zara’s description would have left me in no doubt of who the woman currently curled up in my armchair was.
“You don’t deserve the chance to do anything. Get out.”
“No. Not without saying what I came here to say. I truly regret that things had to happen the way they did, Jules.”
“What the fuck is this? Are you working your way through the list of people whose lives you’ve screwed around with? First it was Zara, now it’s my turn? If you’re looking for forgiveness, you won’t find any here.”
“I wish there had been another way, but I guide destiny, Jules, I don’t control it.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been involved in every twist and turn since the very start.”
“Yes. But even if I had refused to play my part in the Prophecy, things would still have turned out exactly the same in the end. It would probably have taken longer, and screwed around with your lives a lot more, but that’s the thing about prophecies. They always find a way.”
“Maybe that’s true, but we’ll never know now, will we? Because you didn’t refuse. You played your games and we paid the price. So don’t pretend you’re sorry and that you’re here to apologise. What do you really want, Raquel?” I demanded.
“What do I want?” she said bitterly. “It doesn’t matter what I want does it, just what I can do.
All that’s ever mattered is fate and destiny and fucking prophecies.
But as you asked, I would like to have a life.
A nice, normal, boring life. One where I can be myself, and wear my own face, and have friends and not spend another second pulling on the threads of fate. ”
I almost felt a bit sorry for her, until I remembered just how many other lives she’d messed up besides mine.
“I’m sorry I had to interfere in your life, and I’m sorry I had to keep you from your father, but this has never been a game to me.
I’ve lived to see civilisations rise and fall, and others rise to take their place.
I’ve seen the birth of religions and watched them fade and die in what would be the blink of an eye to you.
And I’ve waited millennia for the chance to help the uncle I love finally regain his freedom.
So yes, when that chance came I played my part.
Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have done the same? ”
“I wouldn’t have done the same. Because my family would never have forgiven me if I did. And I guess that’s the difference between us.”
“You can keep telling yourself that, but can you make yourself believe it? It doesn’t matter anyway.” She got to her feet and gave me a disappointed look. “I’ve said what I came here to say.”
“Is this the real you then?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Is this your own face that you’re so keen to wear now?” She sighed and her shoulders drooped.
“Maybe. Sometimes I forget who I am. Or maybe I never really knew. Is this one more pleasing to you?” The air around her rippled and I found myself looking at a beloved face I hadn’t seen for nearly eighty years.
“You bitch.” My fangs dropped as I launched myself at her and took her down to the floor, my hands wrapping around her neck as I straddled her. “How dare you desecrate her memory.”
She tugged at my fingers, desperately trying to loosen my grip and I dug in harder, only to find myself suddenly grasping nothing but air as she disappeared from underneath me and rematerialized on the other side of the room.
“I’m sorry.” Another ripple and Cara’s face was replaced with the one she’d been wearing before. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I thought you would find it comforting. You looked at her picture all the time after she died.”
“Comforting?” I snarled as I heaved myself up. “How the fuck is seeing you of all people wearing my dead mate’s face supposed to be comforting?”
She shrugged. “I thought you must miss her. I know I miss mine. I’d give anything to see his face again. I don’t even have a picture to look at.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, now she was crying. I opened my mouth to tell her to knock it off with the crocodile tears and somehow “what was his name?” came out instead.
“Merlin.” The name was whispered as if it was an incantation. “I’ve searched for his soul throughout the centuries, hoping destiny would bring him back to me, but if he’s had other incarnations here, our paths have never crossed. Maybe now all this is over, fate will be kind.”
Surely she couldn’t be talking about that Merlin. The one from the legend of Camelot. Jed had been King Arthur though, so I had to ask, just to be sure.
“It wasn’t a legend,” she said with a sad little sniff. “And yes. That Merlin.”
I stomped into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge and filled two glasses almost to the brim.
I was probably insane, but something about the way she’d said Merlin’s name had struck a chord with me.
Her voice had held that exact same combination of longing and pain that hit me every time I allowed myself to think about Cara and I was struggling to stay angry with her, despite my best efforts.
“Here.” I shoved one of the glasses of wine at her and she frowned as she took it.
“Why are you suddenly being nice to me? You can’t poison me you know.”
“I’m not trying to poison you. If I wanted you dead, I’d rip your throat out.” Well I’d try to anyway. My last attempt hadn’t gone so well. I settled myself down on the sofa and pointed at the chair she’d been curled in earlier. “Sit.”
“Tell me about you and Merlin,” I demanded once she’d complied. “That whole blood in the sword thing with the prophecy was you, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. But I didn’t seek him out for that reason.
We met quite by chance. He was trying to summon a demon.
There was no way that was happening of course because the kind of demon he was trying to summon doesn’t exist. I happened to be passing by though, and I was curious about him, and a bit bored, so I decided to play along.
I don’t know which of us was more surprised.
Him that his summoning had worked, or me that he thought it possibly could have. ”
“So you pretended he’d successfully summoned you? What did he want you to do?”
She laughed softly. “Nothing. That was the thing about Merlin. He would do things purely for the sake of being able to say he’d done them.
And he wanted to be able to say he’d summoned a demon.
So we sat and talked. Him perched on a flat rock, and me in his ‘summoning circle’ which, for the record, couldn’t have kept a determined gnat inside.
” She paused to take a gulp of her wine.
“And that night I fell in love for the first and only time in my life.”
“So you’ve never been with anyone else since?” I was getting drawn into this story despite myself.
“Well, I’ve had the odd liaison. Fifteen centuries is a long time to be completely alone. But no, I’ve never had a proper relationship with anyone else. I tried once or twice, but it never felt right. So after a bit I gave up on the idea.”
I knew exactly what she meant. After Cara, being with someone else had never felt right, so I’d always just stuck to brief flings too.
“I guess once you’ve had a soul mate nothing is ever going to compare,” I said.
We sat in silence for a while, both of us lost in our own memories.
“I’ve always watched over you, you know,” she said when the silence started to feel uncomfortable.
“From the day you were born. Waiting for the time when destiny would call you. The day I watched you meet your mortal death, I knew the time was drawing near, that the last pieces of the Prophecy were finally starting to come together.”
I frowned. “You were there?” I didn’t remember seeing anyone else that day – well, no one alive anyway.
“Who do you think left that newly dead body conveniently lying next to you? If I hadn’t, your vampire instincts would have kicked in, and you would have gorged yourself on the nearest fresh blood supply you could find.
Your first act as a vampire would have been to take a life.
You would have hated yourself for it afterwards, but in the moment, the bloodlust would have taken over.
I didn’t want you to have to live with that guilt. ”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. If it was true the appropriate response would be ‘thank you’. But I wasn’t inclined to thank her for anything and besides, she was probably lying.
“When your initial blood lust eased after you’d drained my gift, I guided you home and stayed with you for three days supplying you with blood until I was sure it was safe to leave you.
And before I left I reminded you of the name of that supernatural bar so I could be sure you’d go there and find others of your kind who could help you. ”
“No. That’s not what happened.” I was sure she was lying now.
“I woke up alone and after I drained that body I went home alone. My mother was the one who told me the name of that bar. I remembered it after I realised everything she’d been trying to tell me about vampires was true.
Why are you lying to me?” And to think I’d been starting to believe maybe she wasn’t the monster I’d thought her. More fool me.
“I’m not lying, Jules. Do you really think your transition was that easy?
Drain one corpse, then just go home and sleep it off for a bit?
You don’t remember the rest of it because I did you the kindness of making you forget.
Believe me or don’t,” she said with a shrug, “it doesn’t change what happened.
Mabe you should ask your father if what you think happened is normal. ”
I didn’t need to. He’d already remarked more than once how lucky I’d been to have such a mild transition that I hadn’t needed anyone’s help to get the blood lust under control.
“I think I should probably go now. I’ve said far more than I intended to.” She stood and placed her empty glass on the coffee table. “Thank you for the wine.”
Part of me would have liked her to stay, to hear more of her story, but the sensible part, the one that still wasn’t convinced everything she’d told me hadn’t been a lie, stood up and agreed with her. Then I heard myself ruin it by saying,
“If you wanted to come back sometime, talk some more, I think I’d like that.”
“I’d like that too,” she said hesitantly, “if you’re sure.”
“Just use the door in future,” I said, striding over to the front door and pulling it open, “rather than materialising out of nowhere.”
“I can do that if it makes you feel more comfortable.” She only got halfway through it before she faded away, but at least she’d made an effort.
After she’d gone I thought about our conversation, and I had to admit there was some truth in at least one thing she’d said.
If my dad was in danger I’d do anything and sacrifice anyone to protect him, even if he would be horrified about that.
So although I was still angry with her for the way she’d interfered in my life, I was also starting to wonder if maybe she wasn’t all that different from me after all.