The Blood: A Denouement

The next morning, the Dunharrows were all sitting in the great parlor where they had made the magic yesterday and opened the eyes of the Strausses. But they were not on the floor. Rather they were at a table long table, Lewis, Augustus, Drusilla, Loreal, Seth and Uriah and at the other head, Owen.

“Now,” Drusilla said, “it is time to clear this damn place out. It should have been done years ago.”

Before her was the beaten golden cup, the chalice that was, it passed through Marabeth Strauss’s mind while she watched, the Holy Grail. Or as much of a holy grail as there was. Drusilla’s index finger lazily traced the rim of it, but even while Marabeth watched, the long dark finger moved quicker and quicker and there was a humming, a vibration coming from the cup.

The Dunharrows paid it no mind but one by one, placed an index finger, last of all Seth and even Uriah, and while the Cup began to hum a subtle shaking went through the house. Joyce, standing before a cabinet, looked behind her and moved just as a vase suddenly exploded on an old credenza, and then, as if a little pistol had gone throughout the room, rows of delicate glasses pinged as they exploded one by one. The house gave a great yawn, and Owen stood up to open the French doors that led out onto the lawn.

The lights flickered, flickered, went out. There was a great huff as all the electric of the house seemed to take a great breath and die.

For some time there were in silence, and then suddenly a wind picked up. Beyond them the front door creaked open, and through the room shrieked leaves and branches. An old bust exploded. The painting over the piano of an elegantly dressed and coiffed white woman standing beside her dog exploded into flame, and a great cabinet full of china sighed and crashed to the ground. The air was full of screams and while Strausses clung to each other, and the vampires looked at one another with narrowed eyes, the Dunharrows only sat there, and as a body turned their right index fingers to the open French doors, now blown all the way back. Human screams filled the wind and a bottle of red wine fell to the floor. From its blood red puddle liquid rose up, and an invisible finger began to spell on the wall over the French doors:

N I G

“None of that,” Owen said, curtly, making a banishing gesture, and a great scream and then a whimper joined the wind. There was the sough of electricity, the flickering of lights again, and then the dying of the wind as light returned to the sky, and quiet returned to the ruined room.

“The voices,” Seth said, sounding lighter as he sat down. “The ghosts…”

“Exorcised,” Drusilla said. “Gone.”

Owen moved to the French doors, shutting them, and moving around the broken bottle of wine. Surely the invisible and silent staff that kept this place clean would atten to this too.

“Some white people,” he commented ruefully, “never know when to leave.”

“And speaking of white people who need to leave,” Augustus said, looking toward the Strausses, “Don’t you all have a Jenean to get to?”

“You have to all be there, then,” Loreal said.

Kris Strauss firmly felt that the last thing he wanted to do was bring yet another person into Long Lees, and after spending the night with Jenean, he brought his brother and sister, and his cousins to the Harrow Inn. Peter brought Joyce and Jason was there too. Jim, Loreal, and Seth and Lewis had come along as well, and the dining room was nearly empty. They were all finishing off shrimp and grits, and Lewis was smoking a cigarette.

When Jim, Peter and Myron saw the tall ash blond Kris had entered the room with, they looked at each other smiling, but Marabeth stood up and took Jenean’s hands and kissed her. Jenean took to her immediately and Marabeth introduced her to Joyce and Loreal.

It was Jenean who told them, slowly, and starting over again when Peter interrupted with many questions, about her Aunt Clotilde, and while she talked, Lewis Dunharrow nodded his head.

“Whatever your Aunt Clotilde has to say,” Lewis said, turning now to Kris and Marabeth, “you all must be there, together, to hear it.”

“I want to go with you,” Seth said quickly to Jim.

Jim smiled at him quietly.

“I think I would like that. For you to be there at the end of it all.”

Seth shrugged and said, “Or at the beginning.”

That night as they were making love,Marabeth closed her eyes to everything. The old fans turned slowly overhead, and the breeze of the bayou coming from the open window felt good on them.

She wrapped her legs about Jason, and ran her hands up and down his sides, clinging to his back, moving so she could feel him deep inside. She closed her eyes and pulled his face to her, inhaled the fragrance of his hair, enjoying the gentle creaking of the bed, hearing the low groans of satisfaction in Jason’s throat.

And then she opened her eyes and nearly cried as she saw the shadow standing above them, the moonlight on the muscular arm hairs, the light shining on the white blond of his hair as he looked down in satisfaction.

Still making love to her, Jason said, “What is it? What’s happening?”

“He’s here,” Marabeth said.

They stopped, Jason realized he had longed for this.

“He’s here?” Jason McCord’s eyes were shadows.

Marabeth nodded.

“Well, then let him come.”

Jason kissed her. “Let him come.

“Come, Hagano,” Jason murmured. “Like you always have. You never came unless I let you, did you?”

As he kissed her fiercely, she pulled him to her, and they gathered up a speed, clinging to each other. Her eyes opened and closed as she saw Hagano leaning down almost to encase Jason, to gather him up, and then she knew he was entering him and for a moment, they were two and then Jason’s eyes looked on her, and she knew that Hagano was in him.

“I won’t run from you,” Marabeth said, feeling his hands on her shoulders, feeling him shift deeper into her. She knew Hagano and Jason were in her at the same time, and as Jason had given himself to spirit, so did she.

“You will be Changed forever, now,” his voice spoke from Jason’s mouth, and Jason seemed older, his eyes deeper.

“You will be Changed, but so will he. Now that I am in him, now that I will Change him, the Gift will be in him, as it is in you, as it was in Pamela.”

“But what are you—?” her voice rose as he fucked her deeply.

“Changed,” the Hagano that was also Jason declared as he made love to her, “into him, and into you.”

She gave herself to the wildness, to the fury, and now she felt the teeth in her, and she, in her rage and in her lust, pushed her teeth into him, growling, and Marabeth’s body lengthened and strengthed and then she threw back her head and howled, and the the red wolf who was Jason leapt from the bed, out of the window and into the moonlit night and she, being his lover, followed