Chapter Nine - Part One

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CHAPTER NINE

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I walked up and down the halls of the New Yorker Museum with Tidus, matched in stride, and yet strangely distant. He spoke politely, opened doors for me, and caught me by the hand once when I almost tripped going down a step. But he would hardly look at me, and when he did it was rarely in the eye. He was torn between the monster and the gentleman – two halves struggling to conquer one soul. And all I could do was watch and just hope that the right half would win.

At one point, we ended up standing together in front of a display. And at first glance, Tidus seemed to be studying Frost at Giverny, but a perceptive eye could see that he was troubled. Because as beautiful as Claude Monet’s painting was, it simply couldn’t hold his full attention. He stared at the painting, and yet I knew he didn’t really see it.

For a moment, I looked to him, and wanted to ask if he was ok, or if perhaps he wanted to talk about what was wrong. But then I remembered how he wasn’t interested in friendship, so I merely walked away.

And after an hour of solemn strolling, we finally hit pay dirt. We found ourselves in one of the last rooms of the museum that was open to the public. It was a large open area with strange tribal paintings, and pictures of odd symbols hung along the walls. I paused, disturbed, but unable to look away from a depiction of a large black snake that was simultaneously raping and strangling a woman.

“I think we’ve found what it is we’re looking for.” Tidus said, nodding in the direction of one of the room’s only display cases.

Together, we approached a small, clear, glass podium, of about waist-height. Feeling both excited, and apprehensive I stooped to observe the open ring box that lay on a satin, cream-colored pillow within. Sitting in the box was a heavy-looking black diamond in a canary-colored band. Light from the museum windows struck the ring, casting glimmers of gray along the walls of the room.

“Stunning, isn’t?”

I looked up to see a tall, thin man staring down at me from the opposite side of the podium’s case. He wore a crisp suit with the pin of the hotel’s name and insignia at the breast pocket. His hair was brown and greying prematurely, and he looked as if he had been ill recently. But his strong smile, and the hardness to his eyes, told me that he was still quite agile for a man of his condition.

“Very,” I said, straightening. “I’ve never seen a ring like it. It’s gorgeous.” I offered my hand, along with a polite smile. “I’m Naomi. This is my… friend, Tidus.”

“Hello, I’m Ben Foster.” The man said, offering his hand to each of us. “I am the museum’s head curator and leading archaeologist. I see that you are interested in this piece. Usually, we aren’t interested in carrying jewelry, but this piece happens to have very significant history behind it. Have you ever heard of the Countess, Neona Aslin?”

I shook my head no, but I was surprised to see Tidus give an odd smile and nod that yes, he had.

“Well, in the eighteenth century, the Countess’ family owned a very large and profitable chain of textile mills. And their enterprise supplied over half of the country’s fabric in England, so you can imagine how much wealth her family acquired.”

As he said this, he directed his attention to a portrait hanging along the wall besides us. It depicted a beautiful, olive-skinned woman in a yellow, ruffled, gown. She wore small pearl earrings, and while her neck remained elegantly bare of jewels, a large diamond ring with a yellow band rested on the middle finger of her right hand. And it looked an awful lot like the ring in the display case, except that diamond was black, and hers was white.

“That’s the Countess?” I asked, indicating the painting.

“The one and the same.” was Mr. Foster’s reply pleasant reply. “The Countess was as well known for her looks as she was her money. So needless to say, she was sought after by many rich and powerful men of the time. But the Countess’ appetite for men was voracious, and consequently, most of them barely managed to hold her attentions for long. Except for one man, who is actually rumored to have been a powerful Vampire of the time –”

“Cole Beckett.” Tidus finished.

“Yes,” Mr. Foster agreed, with an impressed smile. “I take it that you are familiar with this legend then, Tidus?”

“Vaguely,” Tidus replied, with a humble smile. “But I’m much more familiar with Vampire lore from the seventeen hundreds. And Cole Beckett was fairly influential as far as Vampires go – so I’ve read anyway.”

“Well, then you would be correct.” Mr. Foster said. “Mr. Beckett had a taste for conquests in women and at one point, he seemed to grow very close to the Countess. But unfortunately, fate was not kind to Neona. She fell in love with Cole, but he insisted that he wasn’t a man to be tied down. He accepted her advances, but he never returned them…”

“Poor Neona,” I said thoughtfully, regarding her thin, pretty face and the hollow quality captured within her dark eyes.

“Heartbroken, yes.” Mr. Foster agreed. “But far from helpless. Shortly after meeting the Countess, Cole met another woman – Isobel Shield. She was a sea merchant’s daughter, and from a poor family that couldn’t afford to give her a dowry were she to be married. In short, she was a far cry from the type of women that Cole was used to pursuing.”

“You mean women like Countess Aslin?” I said.

“Precisely,” said the curator, with a nod. “When Cole refused to marry the Countess, and announced his engagement to Isobel instead, Neona became enraged. She couldn’t believe that he would choose to marry a poor commoner above her. But, she soon discovered that nothing she could do, nor anything she could say, would break the love that Cole had for Isobel. So before the wedding, the Countess formulated a plan. She befriended Isobel and even seemed to forgive Cole. And when Cole confessed to the Countess that he wished he could grow old and die with Isobel, her plan became complete. She had her grandmother’s diamond ring – a very valuable family heirloom – enchanted by a warlock. From that moment on, any Supernatural being that wore the ring would be able to hide what they were from the rest of the world. Essentially, it would turn them human for however long they chose to wear it. So, as a gift, Neona gave the ring to the young couple on their wedding night.”

“Surely, you don’t believe in sorcery, Mr. Foster?” said Tidus, with a sly smile. “Does this mean monsters exist now too?”

“Well, that depends on your definition of ‘monster’, sir. Because the Countess was entirely Human –from what I’ve researched – and yet she may have killed at least two innocent people.”

“But it sounds like such a selfless thing that she did, giving Cole and his bride the ring.” I said. “That hardly seems like the actions of a monster to me.”

“Very true. But not many people know that the Countess also had the ring cursed. It’s a nasty legend – and awfully cliché – but still fascinating. Supposedly, if a Supernatural being is in love and slips the ring on their finger, they’re doomed to wear it for eternity. Take it off, and they’re fated to lose their mind, and take their lover’s life before they take their own.”

There was an effective pause as the curator waited, watching with a pleased patience as Tidus and I soaked in this new revelation about the ring.

“And then what?” I asked, giving Tidus a nervous glance. “What happened to Cole and Isobel?”

“That’s a very good question, Naomi, but unfortunately, there are no concrete answers. And whether or not the curse is real, the Countess’ intentions still proved fatal. The day after the wedding, Cole and Isobel’s bedroom was found covered in blood, but no bodies were ever recovered, and the three of them were never heard from again.”

“Mr. Foster?” A naturally tan and slender woman in a black dress, with cat-shaped, golden eyes had appeared at Mr. Foster’s side. She gave Tidus and myself courteous smiles before returning her attention to Ben. I noticed that she also had the hotel’s pin on her chest.

“I apologize for the interruption, but there is an urgent business matter waiting for you upstairs, sir.”

“Naomi, Tidus, this is my assistant, Ms. Castra. Would you please excuse me for just a few moments?”

Flashing us one, last, agreeable smile, she led her boss across the room and into the elevators, disappearing to a higher floor.

“The ring is cursed?” I asked Tidus, turning to him in astonishment. “Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Tidus admitted, with a sigh.

“And how did you know that stuff about Cole Beckett? Who was he anyway?”

“He was a Vampire that I knew in the 1700’s. He was young, clever, and good-looking – which made him dangerous. He left a trail of bodies behind him wherever he went – mostly targeting women and children. But society was too blinded by his looks and his charms to admit to themselves that he was a killer. So when I heard of the uproar his name was causing in the Supernatural world, I took it upon myself to counsel Beckett since his Maker had abandoned him.”

“His Maker?”

“His undead father.” Tidus reiterated. “The Vampire who created him.”

“I see. And why did his Maker abandon him? I mean, why bother taking the time to create a Vampire that you won’t look after? That’s just… cruel. Isn’t it?

“Yes. Using our will to take a life and then re-create it requires significant sacrifice on our parts. It creates an unbreakable bond, a link that can never be severed, much like the bond that you share with your Champion. So you can understand how creating a progeny Vampire and then setting it loose on the world is unimaginable. They would be a loose wrecking ball of wild emotions, and thirst powerful enough to slaughter hundreds – which a Maker and his progeny will feel until one or both of them meets the true death.”

“So are you saying that Cole acted that way out of revenge? He slaughtered women because his Maker left him? Seriously?”

“When a Vampire is first made, they are ten times the person they used to be. Your senses, emotions, thoughts, desires – they’re all amplified enormously. And