They alighted on the rooftop of the seemingly deserted structure. Daniel rubbed his arms for warmth once Chérie released him, pulling the knitted cap off his head and running his fingers through his hair.
Louis circled warily, searching. He did not sense anything amiss, but he was proceeding cautiously nevertheless, keeping his mind closed. He didn’t know why Daniel had chosen the roof rather than one of the terraces, but he was content to allow the young vampire the lead. Daniel knew the Night Island better than anyone. He owned it.
And there were already more variables in this reunion than Louis cared to confront at once.
Armand was territorial, more so than any other vampire he knew. Would he view Louis’s mentoring of Daniel as a violation of his domain? And if Armand considered Louis still his, Chérie could be in danger for the same reason. Armand had killed the young ones, many of their kind.
Then there was the matter of Lestat. The trio had ascended into the California night within minutes of Louis’s awakening, but the sun off the coast of Miami was more than four hours gone by that time. They had ridden the fastest air currents to cross the continent, protecting Daniel as best they could from the thin air and biting cold, but that again had taken time. Nearly six hours had Lestat had, alone with Armand. Had his maker’s meeting with the auburn-haired vampire gone well or had Lestat’s notorious temper gotten the better of him? Louis sighed, breathing deeply of the salty coastal air.
“This way,” Daniel said, holding aloft a set of keys.
Chérie took Louis’s hand as they followed the young vampire across the vast roof to an access door.
Louis turned, scanning behind them. “How long since you’ve been here, Daniel?”
“Right after the news came of Armand’s death,” Daniel said, already working a key into the third lock. “I think I was here for about two months, but I’m not sure. Time lost all meaning for me.” He unlatched the fourth lock. “I just sat in his suite. It looked so much like the last vision he gave me, of the Villa of the Mysteries.” Daniel tapped out the combination on the electronic keypad beside the door and its indicator flashed from amber to green. He lifted the handle and the door began to swing open, only to halt abruptly.
“Shit! I forgot. I set the New York lock from the inside before I left.” His fingers played along the scant opening but there was not enough room for them to slip inside. Daniel’s lips set and his cheeks flushed with anger.
“Screw this,” he muttered and furiously kicked the door. It twisted back hideously on its hinges.
“Subtle.” Louis laughed quietly. It wasn’t often the young vampire so blatantly demonstrated his strength.
Daniel gave his shoulders a shrug. “Hey, it’s my door. And it only opens onto the stairwell. There’s another one inside that leads directly into the villa, with a whole different set of locks. And another one of these.” He shook the steel bar that had held the door fast against mortal intruders.
“It would probably be easier just going in the door you used when you left,” Chérie suggested. “Not to mention quieter.” She grinned.
“Then it’s down to the concourse,” Daniel said, leading the way past the wrecked door. Three floors and five locks later, vacant mall shops stretching out in either direction, they were standing before an unmarked door that seemed protected only by a keypad.
Louis stared blankly at the electronic lock. “I remember using a key on this door.”
“We changed it after everyone drifted off. Too many keys were unaccounted for.” Daniel sighed, staring at the indicator winking amber. “I have to enter three series of numbers within a few seconds,” he explained. “If I screw up even one of them, it trips the entire system and we’re locked out for an hour. I hate this lock. Armand kept setting the timer shorter and shorter to see if I could do it.” He glanced over his shoulder at Louis and Chérie. “So don’t bug me,” he admonished, winking.
The pair smiled.
Daniel took a deep breath and poised his fingers over the keypad. Before he could again move, the indicator suddenly blinked from amber to green. He stumbled back from the door as if it was a viper.
“He’s here,” the young vampire whispered. “Christ! He is here.”
“Well, someone is here,” Louis said warily, moving beside the door and drawing Chérie behind him.
Daniel swallowed hard and pushed the door open. Louis and Chérie followed as Daniel entered the villa.
Louis swung the door shut behind them, feeling the tumblers automatically fall into place. He turned and followed down the dark hallway, emerging to see Daniel transfixed on a silhouetted figure across the room. Candles blazed in the candelabra atop the enormous piano behind the spectre. Chérie threw Louis a furtive glance, holding her interlocked hands to her mouth. Louis stepped up behind Daniel and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.
Daniel’s trembling hand touched Louis’s fingers, as if for strength, before he stepped forward, tentatively approaching the spectre with the long curling hair. He had not crossed half the distance when it seemed his knees would buckle.
Both Louis and the shadowy figure hastened to keep Daniel from falling. Reaching him first, Louis firmly grasped the young vampire under the arms, only to find himself staring over the ashen hair and into a pair of soft, dark brown eyes suddenly just inches away. His breath caught in his throat.
“Armand,” Daniel whispered, legs slowly straightening, his fingers gingerly touching the scorched, yet radiant flesh of his maker’s face. So like a mortal suntan.
Louis smiled. He steadied Daniel and then gently pressed him forward.
Armand’s arms quickly enfolded his fledgling, drawing him close as his eyes shut, lips parting as if in ecstasy.
Love, that too is passion, Louis told the auburn-haired vampire silently.
Armand’s eyes shot open and Louis smiled. Yes, I can hear you now. Beware, my friend. Beware.
A faint smile curled Armand’s lips as his gaze shifted to his fledgling, his child. He took Daniel’s face in both hands, searching the young vampire’s violet eyes before crushing him to him again.
Daniel lay limp in his arms, eyes squeezed tightly shut, his shoulders rising sharply with each labored breath.
“Daniel. Again you are a gift to me from Louis,” Armand said, sighing. “From his very hands.” His vampiric voice was seduction itself, mesmerizing and sensuous.
A gasp escaped Daniel’s lips and his arms instantly surrounded his maker’s waist. They knitted across Armand’s back briefly, fervently, before one long arm snaked over his maker’s shoulder and Daniel buried his face in the auburn curls. He breathed deeply as his pale cheek intimately brushed against the tanned cheek and his lips found his maker’s flesh, the delicate impression beyond his ear, nuzzling closer and kissing him again.
Louis glanced down and smiled as Chérie slipped her hand around his arm. Her eyes were veiled in crimson, her affection for their adopted fledgling undisguised. He followed her gaze as he covered her hand with his.
Armand’s expression was unreadable as his eyes met Louis’s. “You will excuse us a few moments. Lestat is on the living room terrace. We’ll join you there, and then,” his dark brown eyes shifted briefly to Chérie, “and then we can make the introductions.”
Louis nodded and led Chérie up the wide stairs. As they emerged on the second floor, he glanced back. Armand and Daniel had already withdrawn.
Chérie marveled at the vast room, awash in the glow of a few carefully placed candles. Luster of leather and marble and velvet. Tapestries and chandeliers. A chessboard, a game in progress. She sat and studied the board.
“Do not disturb anything, my love,” he warned gently.
“I remember,” she said, smiling up at him and kissing his long fingers before releasing his hand. They had agreed she should carefully observe the old etiquette until Armand welcomed her. If he welcomed her....
Louis tarried before a painting, Picasso, before he crossed the room and stepped into the breeze that came from the terrace, the doors all pushed wide. Against the rail leaned Lestat, the Miami skyline a halo around him.
He paused. It was an astonishing sight, his maker appeared as he imagined the archangel had to the shepherds near long-ago Bethlehem. Louis’s approach was reverent as he moved close enough to run his hand along the narrow lapel of Lestat’s tailored coat, the heavy gray velvet reassuringly familiar beneath his fingers. He smiled.
“I remember this suit.”
Lestat tossed his hair back from his eyes and shrugged. “It was in my study where I’d left it. Go figure.”
Louis’s green eyes twinkled as he leaned beside Lestat, crossing his arms over his chest.
“So have you decided yet who has the better tan?”
“Don’t play the imbecile, Louis,” his maker said, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “I do, of course.”
Louis laughed aloud. “Where has he been?”
“Underground,” Lestat said, his tone implying there had never been any other possible answer. “In Central Park, if you can believe that.”
“Many places there to find an unsuspecting victim.”
Lestat nodded in agreement. “What’s surprising is that he told me at all. It’s so...candid of him.” He looked both puzzled and amused.
“Did he tell you, Lestat?” Louis asked suspiciously. “He seems in extraordinarily good shape for what he’s been through. Not a blemish on him other than that perfect tan. I can sense no discomfort at all.”
His maker grinned mischievously.
“Don’t deny it. You let him drink from you,” Louis teased.
Lestat furrowed his brow, appearing annoyed, though his eyes danced. “I gave him a few swallows. So what? And I didn’t even make him ask for it.” He idly inspected his nails before unfurling a finger towards the villa. “You would have as well if you had seen the pain he was in.”
“And precisely how much did that cost our auburn-haired friend?”
Anger tinged those fierce blue-gray eyes. “How dare you! I did it for compassion’s sake. Do you forget I know that pain?”
“Come on, Lestat,” Louis said, tipping his head to look at his maker and grinning. “Don’t bullshit me.”
Lestat winced dramatically. “Oh, please Louis! The language doesn’t suit you. Really.”
“So tell me.”
His maker’s shoulders fell with his sigh. He scowled at his fledgling. “Why can I deny you nothing? For a few precious seconds, Louis, an eternity really, his mind was mine.”
Louis beamed. “You drank from him then, as well.”
Up flew Lestat’s hands. “Yes, yes, yes! I needed blood if I was to give it.”
“Bullshit.”
“Knock that off,” Lestat glowered, but Louis could see he had already lost control. His maker broke into a fit of giggles.
Louis smiled, delighting in the sudden mirth.
Lestat wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and then licked away the blood tears, ever the provincial lord.
“Tease,” Louis whispered.
His maker leered at him and then sighed. “You don’t blame me, do you Louis? He never allows anyone in and it was far too tempting to pass up.”
“No, I suppose not, though he’s let you in freely enough in the past. You have an intimacy with Armand I never had, relegated as we were to using words.” He shook his head and laughed lightly. “But I wasn’t sure if you wouldn’t simply rip his heart out for the deception he pulled.”
Lestat suddenly seemed distant, his eyes drifting off to somewhere unseen. “I won’t lie and tell you I hadn’t considered it. But what was the use, truly? It was time for the charade to end anyway.”
“Perhaps,” Louis said, draping an arm across his maker’s back and clasping his neck. “Do you know about Dora?”
The full head of yellow hair nodded slowly.
“Are you all right, Lestat?” Louis’s voice was soft, filled with concern.
“Yes.” Lestat turned and leaned both hands on the railing, staring intensely across the water at the teeming city. “She was dead the moment she touched the Veil. I saw it then. Everything she ever was ceased to exist. All because of some thing.” He spat out the last word.
Louis watched Lestat’s lips draw taut, yet no less sensual. He listened in fascination as his maker continued quietly.
“I think I understand it all now, Louis.” Lestat frowned. “No, that’s a lie. I won’t understand it all until I finally die, and perhaps not even then. The only absolute truth I’ve gleaned from this is that I don’t ever want to die.” He glanced at his fledgling and a fleeting affection deepened the dimples at the corners of his mouth. “Or you. I couldn’t bear your death.”
“I don’t want you to die either,” Louis admitted, though his cheeks flushed. “You’ve brooded about it a long time, Lestat. Since Akasha made you stronger than all of us. Since she gave you a taste of being a god here on earth. You’ve long been alone with that knowledge, the possibility of outliving us all, that nothing on earth could kill you.” He sought his maker’s blue-gray eyes. “Are you finished with trying to end it, Lestat? Will you stay with us now?”
Lestat shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, Louis. I hope so, more than I’ve dared hope since the concert.” He touched Louis’s cheek. “Since I had you with me again.” He laughed and raked his hair back away from his face. “For the first time in ages, it feels like this is enough. But who knows how long this will last?”
Louis smiled as he studied his boots. “I suppose forever would be too much to ask,” he said under his breath. He glanced up and, seeing amusement in his maker’s smile, shook his head gently. “No, don’t bother, Lestat. It’s just a wish. Tell me what new understanding you’ve found.”
Shaking his mop of blond curls, his maker sighed, resigned. “Hopelessly sentimental.” Lestat returned his gaze to the glimmering Miami skyline.
Captivated, but by what? Louis watched his maker slowly lower his eyes, a malignant smile curling his lips.
“Memnoch--” He abruptly halted and laughed cruelly. “No, never again that name. Satan,” he began again, pointedly, “showed me Heaven and Hell, all of history, simply to confuse me. He wanted no more than to enthrall me with the telling.” His gaze shifted to his fledgling as if to assure himself Louis was listening. “Do you know what gave it away for me, Louis?”
“No. Tell me, Lestat.”
“It was his story of being trapped in a mortal body. Everything he said was aimed at entangling me into comparing his choices with ones I myself have made, to make me identify with him. I don’t believe he hoped I would ever agree to become his lieutenant. I’d turned down Akasha, after all, and he had to know the princely reign he would ultimately offer me was far more loathsome. But he left that open just in case. You never can tell with me.” He smiled. “I think you’ll like this part, Louis. Remember how, beforehand, I heard fleeting bits of his conversation with God?”
“Yes, I remember.”
Lestat turned and faced his fledgling. “And of all the biblical tales, of which does it remind you most?”
“Job,” Louis said without hesitation. “How the Devil petitioned God before testing Job’s faith.” His green eyes alight, he smiled at his maker. “A righteous soul. You know, I can’t recall a single tale where the Devil propositioned a soul that was already damned, Lestat. Whatever else occurred, you didn’t make a pact with the Devil. God was right about you.”
“Was He? Perhaps. He only said He saw me differently,” Lestat said with a shrug. “I wonder if He thought I would accept Satan’s terms. If He did, I think I surprised Him. Satan knew how I’d react. The Devil used me for his ends, to unleash a blind, religious wave upon humanity. Turning over the Veil to me was God’s agreement to the test. Had it come from any other hands, I would not have accepted it. Satan knew this.”
Louis shook his head. “God must surely know your longing for goodness, this yearning you’ve given me.” His eyes grew wide in wonder. “He knew your name, Lestat, and allowed you to hear His voice! Perhaps it was only to serve His ends, but perhaps He did so out of an individual love for you.”
Lestat shrugged. “I don’t know, Louis. Perhaps. But Satan didn’t want me to hear, and I can’t forget the heartbreak in God’s voice when He saw me in Satan’s company. And I’m fairly certain His invitation to drink was not in the Devil’s plan.” He searched his fledgling’s eyes. “It’s His goodness you feel, from His blood.”
“No, Lestat. That is there, certainly, but there is more.” Louis mused quietly, knitting his brow. It was difficult to explain. “I believe you have lived with this hunger so long, since you were mortal, that you aren’t consciously aware of it anymore. Not of how strong it is.” He smiled. “You know, it sounds as if you understand more than you give yourself credit for, Lestat. Satan showed you all those things, enfolded you in the telling, but still you saw the trap.”
Lestat gazed back at the city. “Not before fulfilling his plan, however. Or God’s plan.” He gave a tiny shake of his head and shrugged. “Was it all true? I don’t know. I believe so.”
“You don’t think he lied to you, then?” Louis asked.
Lestat smirked. “Oh, he lied to me all right. His lie was that it had nothing to do with Dora.” He clamped his eyes shut for a brief moment, tipping his head back, and then opening them full to the heavens. “The entire thing was about Dora. It was she who finally did his bidding, she who failed his test.”
Louis nodded. “‘You shall have no other gods before Me.’”
“Yes, exactly. Heaven was beauty and love and knowledge, Louis, not things. The Veil might as well be a golden calf.” Lestat absently twisted a strand of his hair.
“Do not fear, Lestat,” came a sonorous voice from the villa.
Maker and fledgling turned to see Armand, resplendent in crushed black linen, step onto the terrace and gracefully cross the distance to them. He took the yellow hair from Lestat’s hand and carefully smoothed it back.
“No one truly believes you are a god,” he finished, his youthful smile entrancing. And then he reached out and mussed the blond mass of curls.
Lestat laughed aloud, giving him a murderous grin before shaking his hair back into place.
Armand turned to Louis and ran the back of his browned hand down Louis’s pale cheek before drawing him into a kiss too brief for the passion it held. Then Armand laid a hand on each of their shoulders and looked slowly from one to the other.
“I thank you both for watching over my Daniel,” he said quietly.
Lestat dipped his chin in acknowledgment and Louis simply smiled at his old companion, his eyes liquid.
We need to talk.
I know. Armand’s face lost all expression. We have much to forgive each other.
Louis glanced up, causing Armand to turn as Daniel emerged on the terrace with Chérie, their right hands clasped. Daniel guided her into Louis’s arms.
He tipped her chin up and kissed her.
“Ah, so lovely,” Armand whispered. “Louis, in love again.” His gaze met Chérie’s. “Is there anything more beautiful in the world?”
She shook her head softly. “No, I don’t believe there is.” She smiled, searching his dark brown eyes boldly, as if they were precious stones.
Armand straightened suddenly and extended his hand formally, gently taking her fingers and pressing them to his silken lips.
“I am Armand. You are welcome in my home.”
“Thank you, Armand.” Chérie seemed transfixed as the auburn-haired vampire warmed her hand between his. He smiled disarmingly.
“I can do no less for his fledgling than he has done for mine.”
“No, she is Lestat’s child,” Louis corrected.
Armand’s eyes grew wide and he whirled on Lestat.
“You made her?” He grabbed Lestat’s hand and as quickly flicked it away from him. “With this blood, you made her?”
“Indeed,” Lestat said, one eyebrow raised smugly. “And charmingly so, don’t you think?”
Armand turned back to Chérie, pausing for her nod before he again took her hand, seeming to feel for the first time the hardness of her alabaster flesh, the powerful blood pulsing through her veins.
Louis surrounded their clasped hands with both of his.
“Armand, this is Chérie. My sister. My lover. As I am her brother, her mate.” He slid her hand out of Armand’s grasp, gently to cause no offense, and held it to his breast. His desire for her rose and he felt his heartbeat quicken. But he only held her hand and smiled into her hypnotic blue-gray eyes.
I have never felt more loved, they told him.
The auburn-haired vampire scowled. “And you agreed to this, Lestat?”
Lestat pushed away from the balcony and rested a hand on Armand’s shoulder. “I first searched her thoughts carefully. She did not want the Dark Gift, yet she asked for it. There was no guilt, no anger, no fear.”
“I only wanted Louis, to stand with him the rest of his days,” she whispered. “And he could not become as I was.” Chérie smiled up into Louis’s eyes.
Lestat waved a hand delicately at Chérie. “And mademoiselle had unwittingly devised a way to finally give Louis the gift he so needed to become the vampire he has become. Look at him, Armand!”
Armand shook his head. He had already heard Louis speak silently, seen his deepened pallor, and held the hardness of his flesh.
“And your blood did all this?” he asked the yellow-haired vampire.
“No,” Lestat said. “Most of what you see had already been wrought when he summoned me. She had changed him.”
“You exaggerate, mon père,” Chérie protested.
“Au contraire, ma petite. Even when he had believed himself happy, Louis always despaired. Don’t you see, Armand? The cloud of gloom is gone!”
Armand searched Louis’s face, puzzled.
Louis laughed aloud. He kissed Chérie’s cheek and draped a long arm around Armand’s shoulders.
“There is an easier way for you to understand,” he said, drawing Armand back into the villa. He paused when he heard Daniel following and glanced back at the young vampire, locking onto his violet eyes.
Daniel’s jaw dropped, his eyes growing wide before he staggered back a few steps and collapsed into a chair.
No harm will come to him, Louis assured him silently. He motioned for Armand to lead the way and smiled when he heard Lestat’s giggling behind them.
Armand was in a rage. “You do this in my own home? Before my very eyes. To my beloved, my Daniel! You insult me in this way?”
“Please, Armand,” Louis soothed. “You of all vampires cannot begrudge me one moment to show off.” He smiled. “Now choose the room.”
“For what purpose?”
“To read my thoughts, of course.”
The auburn-haired vampire halted, shaking his head. “No. This I cannot do.” His gaze narrowed.
Louis sighed. “You do not trust me, Armand?” He searched his friend’s eyes as he concentrated, focusing on a night a century earlier when Armand had led him to the top of a tower on the outskirts of Paris.
The image was clear. He could smell the dust and the rain and feel his body react to the sound of the old chairs as they cracked between Armand’s hands. And they became a fire, luxuriant warmth. But it was the auburn-haired vampire that held his attention. How his pale skin absorbed the firelight. How his eyes beckoned, all promise and desire.
Armand had stepped out of the quiescent image, circling the fire in the gliding fashion he favored in those days, moving without seeming to move. He ran his hand over the remembered clothing, brushing away the moisture, and examining his pallid flesh.
“Why do you give me this vision, Louis?” Armand asked.
Louis leaned against the neglected brick of the tower chamber, disregarding the rain bouncing off his shoulders. “It is a time I felt most loved. There have been but a few such moments in my immortal life and I wanted you to feel the happiness you gave me.” Armand had drawn close in the vision and Louis pulled him tightly to him, stroking his face, lips almost touching.
He opened his eyes, though he couldn’t recall closing them. Armand stood motionless across the villa’s living room.
“Understand that I did not feel that happiness again, not to that depth, until my eyes fell upon Chérie. Now choose the room.”
“The study,” Armand said, waiting for Louis and walking beside him. “But why do you wish for privacy?”
“I seek your comfort,” Louis corrected. “I also chose the vision because it is one we share. Using this gift is still difficult for me and I may need your help.” He ran a hand down over his mouth. “I need your understanding, my friend. I want to open my mind to you completely.”
Armand’s hand darted out and caught him by the shoulder. “Wait. My suite then.” They changed directions. “No one but lovers invite this invasion.”
Louis’s lips parted, curling into a smile. “But we were lovers once.” His smile broadened. “Perhaps my guilt at not giving you what you needed then is working in your favor now. And perhaps I will allow you to take advantage of this weakness.” His green eyes danced mischievously.
Amusement filled the dark brown eyes. “Blood would help further.”
“Ah,” Louis murmured. Armand was still Armand. “Since when do you need blood to violate a willing mind, my friend? Don’t push it, Armand.”
“You would be disappointed if I did not try.”
“Yes,” Louis said, nodding. “I suppose I would. But Lestat has forbidden it.”
“Lestat, who breaks every rule,” Armand scoffed as they stepped into his lush quarters and private study, Venetian artistry surrounding them.
Louis sat on the enormous bed, drawing one leg up under him so he might face Armand as he sat beside him. “I am not Lestat.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
“Goodness, Armand?” Louis raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
Armand smiled. “Yes, goodness. He told you he allowed me to drink?”
Louis nodded.
“What could I gain by denying what you know it holds? You, who were transformed by this blood. Even in that small taste, I knew. I knew.” Pain briefly clouded his brown eyes. “Besides, it was always you, Louis, who had the difficulty believing we could be good.”
They sat quietly. For a hundred years, Louis had existed by the belief that their evil was without question, without gradation. In his pain, he had sought oblivion in a world without feeling.
“Come, my friend. Teach me once again.” Louis extended his hand and sighed as Armand slowly clasped it, so pale against the bronzed flesh. The soft brown eyes found his, and in them he saw the shades of auburn, the sparkle of gold surrounding the engulfing blackness in their center. Spellbinder.
Yes, Armand told him. But you who sees everything needs no teacher. Show me what you will.
And together they touched the rough bark of the sequoia, hands pulling back in unison.
“So empty!” Armand cried softly, glancing at Louis in amazement. “Your entire will bent on holding back the pain. So much pain.”
“Yes,” Louis said and the bark changed. Walnut.
They peered over the hedge at the mortal woman gazing up at them silently, unhurriedly pushing her chocolate tresses back over one shoulder.
“Already she loves me,” Louis told him.
“She knows what you are!” Armand’s surprise filled him. “No fear.”
“Yes, but I am changing.”
“Embracing the pain,” Armand said, nodding. “It warms you.”
“An oracle, she seemed. I saw my humanity again in her.”
Armand knelt beside her, stroking her hair. She reacted to his presence, yet it seemed inconsequential to the vision, which continued as she spoke her metaphor of the tiger and revealed her own pain.
“I cannot be evil,” Louis said. “I feed and find peace in killing because we are predators. I enjoy the kill because we are human predators, sensual beings, with conscious thought and for the same reason I mourn those deaths. There is no evil in this.”
Armand nodded. “It is our nature.” He rose to face Louis and they were inside the little house.
Louis stood with the woman clutched to his breast, revealing his fangs to her wide eyes.
“Such desire!” Armand gasped. “Louis, everything you are wants her.”
“Yes,” Louis said, turning his hungry eyes on Armand. “But you know this moment, my friend, when you will break your most sacred vow and increase our number.”
“Daniel,” Armand whispered.
“Do you feel how it is the same for me? Can you smell her body decaying? Only the scent of her blood is stronger.”
“Anger.”
“Oh, yes! She loves and understands what I am. Through her eyes, I can love what I am. I cannot lose this! I will not.”
Her sudden fear pervaded the vision, startling them both.
“What if Lestat rejects you? Her fear is for you, Louis!”
Tears tumbled down Louis’s cheeks. “Yes, when she is in mortal danger, she is frightened for me. Is this not goodness, Armand?”
Louis opened his eyes to find Armand against his breast. He smoothed the shimmering auburn hair, so soft beneath his preternatural flesh. His eyes again closed and the strands lightened with each touch, becoming blond. It was Lestat in his arms.
Armand felt it all, the goodness within Lestat suffusing his tanned expression. “Not damned.”
The moon erupted across the pond, its silver light blinding. And it was Chérie in his arms, Lestat agreeing and naming his conditions.
Armand jerked back from Louis on the bed. “He did not forbid it!”
“He bade me not to dilute the blood. This is what I honor.”
“Honor!” Armand spat.
The vast space of St. Patrick’s Cathedral filled Louis’s vision suddenly. Light poured through the upper reaches of the sanctuary, the colors bleeding down, stretching out like stains of distasteful chemicals. Glaring in his eyes, blinding him. The heat! Oh, dear God, the heat!
Louis cried out and slid from the bed, crashing to his knees, arms up to block the sun’s awesome rays. In the vision, they caught, ablaze as the outer layer of flesh exploded, hair singed away, and he was hurtled from the building, seeking darkness with all preternatural speed. Alone in the subway tunnel, the stench of smoldering flesh reaching his nose, nauseating him, his bloody gorge rising. And the pain! Dear Lord! The pain was everywhere, the fetid breeze feeling as sand rubbed across his raw skin.
He twisted, agonizing as the nightmare sleep descended.
“Daniel!” Louis gasped as his tear-filled eyes shot open in terror. His heels dug into the white carpet, scrambling back against the tall bed. “You were protecting Daniel!” Frantically, he dragged his friend down into his arms, hesitating before touching that scorched flesh, and then crushing Armand to him.
“Drink, my friend. Be healed.”
His lips parted as Armand’s fangs punctured his flesh, the silken lips pressing against his throat, his precious blood pumping over the satiny tongue that caressed the wound. Savoring the intimate pulling on his veins as he held his dear friend.
His vision quickly filled with his penetrating Chérie before pressing Lestat to her, and to his own throat. Then the symphony of her making, the triple exchange of blood.
Armand drew away and Louis sighed as the tender mouth cleaned the remaining blood from where the wounds had been.
The auburn-haired vampire leaned close to search Louis’s eyes as he gashed his own throat.
“Please, Louis.”
He opened his mouth to Armand’s blood, the rich warmth spreading, exciting his veins as he felt his friend’s arms surrounding him. Powerful blood! Old and pure, long-harnessed and coursing through him now. A kinship he knew, Lestat’s blood. And suddenly a deep understanding he’d never known caressed him, flashes of images flowing with each heartbeat. Armand saying the blessing before a meal with his mother and father. Marius’ secret kiss. Market day around the piazza, choosing the armloads of flowers to adorn the palazzo for his Master’s return. And more, all in a few beats of Armand’s heart.
Then the vision filled his being, their last day of companionship, as they parted on the banks of the Mississippi decades earlier. He felt Armand’s consuming sorrow over the change in Louis that had begun at the Théâtre des Vampires. His lost passion, the animation gone from his face. A vicious and empty fiend. Tears overflowed, spilling down his cheeks.
Louis pulled back, his lips gently kissing away the last of the blood as the wound closed. He smiled at Armand, accepting his offered handkerchief.
“I have mourned that loss, as well,” he said aloud. “For a hundred years I fled that terrible pain, forsaking your love to avoid it.” He shook his head sadly. “Can you forgive me?”
Armand seemed astounded. “You ask me for forgiveness? From the pain my desire caused you?”
“Yes.” Louis furrowed his brow. “I let you hope when there was no hope in me. My cruelty continued long after I stopped mourning Claudia, if I ever truly mourned her.”
“And have you forgiven me for her death?” Armand asked.
Louis sighed. “She was my child. Yes, I saw the woman inside the child’s body, but before whatever else I felt for her, she was ever my child and my love for her, a parent’s love. I can never forget, Armand, but I know what it means to me to feel your arms about me again and that I love you despite the hand you had in her death.” He searched the dark brown eyes. “Is that forgiveness?”
Armand laughed, a rare sound that tingled Louis’s ears, causing him to smile.
“And you dare to call me näive!” Armand touched the hard, pallid flesh of Louis’s cheek. “Yes, you have forgiven me. And by the same measure, I have forgiven you.” He sat back and draped an arm over his bent knee, shaking his head in amazement. “Your desire is strong, Louis.”
Louis smiled. “Yes. Would you have me conceal this from you?”
“Do you believe you could?”
“Absolutely. But I have no wish to do so.” He tipped his head and regarded his friend soberly. “I have done that far too much already. That time is past.” He laughed quietly. “Armand, I am glad to see you again. Happier than I could have imagined. But you are correct, I no longer seek a teacher. Only a dear friend.” He extended his hand to Armand.
The auburn-haired vampire took Louis’s powerful fingers in his, stroking the hardened flesh. “Yes, you are much changed. It is good what Lestat has done in helping awaken you.”
“And Chérie?”
Armand nodded thoughtfully. “The first truly good vampire. It is difficult to grasp, but to see the passion again in your eyes? How can I not believe this has happened?” His gaze narrowed, puzzling. “And she sees no evil in what we are, even now?”
Wonder filled Louis’s eyes. “None at all. She accepts the killing as she does breathing or sleeping.” He sighed deeply. “But in refusing me as her maker, in refusing to increase my torment, she showed me my evil. That in denying my powers, in denying my love for what Lestat had given me and had yet to give, I killed needlessly and created my own hell.” He smiled warmly. “The only one damning me was me. And once that deceitful voice fell silent, I could finally embrace the truths I had known all along, what Lestat had so desperately forced me into acknowledging, and what you had patiently shown me, my friend.”
Armand smiled. “Chérie is strong, to do all this.”
Louis stood, relieved to hear his friend speak her name. There was a familiar intimacy in using their names, something he knew Armand respected. He drew the auburn-haired vampire to his feet.
“Yes, but she is so young still,” Louis said. “She needs to feed. I can feel it, though she is trying to wait for the desire to rise in me. But it will not for a time yet.” He gave his shoulders a slow shrug. “This change was more rapid in me.”
“You want me to take her with us when we go into the city, Daniel and I?”
“Yes. I tried to teach her as you taught me, to call Those Who Would Die, but their pain about suffocated her. I don’t think I taught her well, my friend,” Louis admitted. “It’s not my way.”
“And you want her to find her own way.” Armand smiled. “Yes, I will do this for you, Louis.”
“Thank you, Armand,” Louis said, clasping the tanned hands in his. “And now we should return before Daniel has a cow.”
Armand winced. “What does this mean, to have a cow?”
Louis laughed as they left the room, causing his friend to smile.
When they emerged in the living room moments later, they found Daniel pacing furiously. Without a shred of fear, he stormed up to Louis.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again!”
Chérie jumped up from her chair at the chessboard, leaving Lestat giggling and contemplating his next move. She caught the young vampire by the shoulders and pushed him down onto the gray, velvet-covered divan.
“Don’t have a cow, Daniel!” she scolded.
Louis glanced at Armand and they shared a smile. Armand lowered himself beside his fledgling and smoothed back the ashen hair lovingly.
“You two are a terrible influence on Louis,” he teased. He whispered something to Daniel in a long-forgotten Russian dialect, his tone both seductive and soothing.
Daniel responded in the same language, though his words were halting. His expression was filled with adoration for his maker as they sat touching each other, assuring themselves they were indeed reunited.
Chérie slipped her arm around Louis’s waist. “We appear to have lost our ward.”
He nodded. “Yes, my love. That is as it should be.”
Lestat cleared his throat impatiently.
Chérie tipped her mouth up to meet Louis’s kiss. “You’ll excuse me while I finish trouncing him.” She smiled wickedly. “He has no head for strategy.”
Louis laughed silently as danger crept into Lestat’s leer.
“You underestimate me, ma chère,” her maker snarled.
She seemed unconcerned by his menace. “Oh, I don’t think so, mon père, not in chess.”
“Yes,” Armand said. “Finish your game so you may come with Daniel and myself into the city.”
Chérie frowned. “But Armand, will it not be dangerous for you there now? You made national news, you know, worldwide perhaps. Everyone will recognize you.”
“People will see what they want to see,” Armand said cryptically. “And a simple haircut will be sufficient guise if the nuisance is persistent.”
She was aghast. “It seems a shame to cut such hair!”
Armand basked in the compliment. “Thank you, but it will grow back, you understand.” He pointed to the racks of neatly labeled videocassettes. “I have a tape, if you’d like to see.”
Daniel groaned and Armand embraced him quickly.
“Yes, actually, I’d be fascinated,” Chérie said sincerely. “Why are you going into the city?” But she clamped her hands over her mouth, instantly catching herself. “You need to feed, of course.”
And so do you, my love, Louis told her silently.
She started to shake her head, but he continued.
You cannot wait for me. I do not feel it yet.
And there is something I wish to teach you, Armand’s voice intruded.
Yes, Daniel added, almost atop Armand. Hunt with us tonight!
Not you, too, Chérie protested. Is this fair?
Armand and Daniel suddenly turned to Lestat.
“Such language, Lestat,” Armand teased.
“You forget I learned English from flatboatmen,” he snarled, reaching across the board and tipping Chérie’s king. “You concede, ma petite.” He glared at Louis. “And I may take a certain pride in being called Brat Prince, but I know rude when I see it. Or hear it, as the case may be.” He rose and crossed his arms indignantly.
“I am sorry, Lestat,” Louis said, more than a bit sheepishly.
His maker waved him off, approaching Chérie and taking her hand. “Are they pressuring you into anything, my dear?”
She shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “Louis correctly pointed out that I again hunger.”
Her maker pressed her fingers to his lips. “Do not be disconcerted, Chérie. I told you it would be so in the beginning. Louis has a two-hundred-year head start on you. Be patient.” Lestat tucked a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. “It is only a matter of time.”
His smile was dazzling and she melted in the face of it. He gestured toward Armand and continued. “Listen to our oldest friend as he shows you his trick tonight. He is the master spellbinder and can teach you this as no one else can.” He grinned maliciously at Louis before returning his attention to her. “I do not hold with it, you understand, but perhaps you will find it amusing. But you’ll find your way, there are no rules here.” He smiled, knowing what was to come.
“Hide the kill!” Armand and Louis scolded, nearly in unison. Daniel rolled his eyes and laughed.
“Yes, yes,” Lestat said, fatigued. “I always forget that one.” He plopped down sideways in an enormous black leather chair and winked at Chérie. “What were the other ones? Make no more of our kind? Oops.” He held a hand to his lips.
She smiled warmly. “You’re impertinent, as always, mon père.”
“Mais oui, ma chère. Now off with you! Enjoy the night.”
“You do not take these things seriously enough, Lestat,” Armand said as he rose, following Daniel and Chérie.
“Armand,” Lestat quietly called after him as their fledglings disappeared down the stairs.
The auburn-haired vampire turned.
Lestat’s expression was deadly serious. “She is under your protection.”
Armand bowed gravely before he too descended.
Louis heard one of the speedboats sputter and roar to life. He wandered onto the terrace and watched as the boat raced toward the distant skyline. Lestat stepped silently beside him and leaned his arm heavily on Louis’s shoulder.
“You let him drink from you, did you?” his maker asked, quietly amused.
“That should not surprise you. You knew I would as soon as I learned of the pain he was yet suffering.”
Lestat grinned. “Yes, but you drank from him as well.”
“I could no more refuse that gift than you could.” He glanced at his maker and then was lost within his own thoughts, staring out over the black and ever-changing ocean.
“He really surprised you, didn’t he?” Lestat’s grin softened when his fledgling cautiously searched his face. He nodded a little. “Armand’s visions can be startling.”
Louis gave his head a tiny shake. “It wasn’t the vision so much. But before, perhaps in the span of a sigh, he seemed to gather images to himself.” Louis’s brow furrowed. “A private sort of protection almost, very personal images of happiness he seemed unable to conceal.” And they flooded his memory again. Armand proudly bewitching his victim for the first time, Marius watching. Lestat emerging from the Paris opera all in red velvet, Marius and hope reborn. His secret kiss for Daniel. Louis shook off the remembered images and then slowly shrugged. “Dozens of images, very personal, very happy, but all in a fleeting moment, as I said.”
Lestat murmured something that seemed to convey an understanding. “Almost violent in the intimacy. I wonder if he’s even aware he does it. The vision pales in comparison.”
“Yes, nearly ordinary. But I’ve never had such awareness of another vampire, Lestat. You have been part of me from the beginning. And with Chérie, it’s felt the same. Part of me. But good Lord, Lestat! Before tonight, he’s only given his blood to Daniel.”
“And Marius,” Lestat quickly reminded him. “Don’t forget that until Chérie, you were as protective of your own blood, Louis. For the very same reasons Armand has guarded his.” He slid his arm back until he could squeeze his fledgling’s shoulder. “Yes, we know him now as few others do, but the gift you gave him was no less precious.”
Louis sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re correct.” He smiled. “And I believe he enjoys the idea that we carry a part of his blood within us.”
“Oh, I’m certain of it,” Lestat said, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “So, what shall we do? Rearrange his videotapes? Or perhaps lock every book in one of the crypts?” He stifled a giggle.
“As amusing as that might be, I’m afraid I must decline. I want to see the state of my suite and I need to prepare a crypt for Chérie.”
Lestat gagged. “Mondo boring, Louis. There’s time for that.”
“You Americans slaughter the English language with deplorable gusto,” came a properly British accent from behind them.
“David!” Lestat beamed, instantly catching up the tweed-encased vampire in his arms.
“Oh, do put me down, Lestat,” David protested, his youthful expression belying the elderly English gentleman at his soul. “Hello, Louis,” he said once he’d regained his footing.
“Good evening, David.” Louis smiled, bowing slightly. He enjoyed David’s polite company and did not wish to forgo the opportunity to annoy his maker.
“Well,” David said, rebuttoning his coat, “I’m afraid I owe you a bit of an apology, really. You see, I was with Gabrielle when you contacted her. We were quite involved in cataloging a site in Peru and, well, Lestat was far too persistent the last time I spent any time with his mum. I do hope you’ll forgive me.”
Louis smiled. “Without question. But you had nothing to fear. Lestat and Chérie have been involved in a project of their own for the past month. A more complete edition of my book is in the works.”
“You are not working on the manuscript?”
Louis shook his head. “They still tally the inaccuracies so there has been no need as yet. Chérie will ask for a vision from time to time, and Daniel still has his tapes. I’m not much of a writer, I’m afraid.” He laughed quietly. “My involvement will principally be to ensure the work does not turn into one of Lestat’s tales.”
Lestat was fuming. “What is this? Am I to be excluded from every conversation tonight?”
David embraced his maker solicitously. “I am sorry, my friend. How is work progressing on Louis’s book? By the by, your mother bade me give you this.” He cupped Lestat’s chin in his hand and tenderly kissed his cheek.
The yellow-haired vampire smoothed David’s dark hair away from his face. “Why must you treat me as a child? I have not seen you in nearly two years and much has happened.”
“Please don’t pout, Lestat,” David said, slipping an arm through his maker’s. “You know I have little tolerance for it and I do want to hear all that has occurred. You look marvelous. But first, where is Armand and how does he appear?”
Lestat led his fledglings indoors as he spoke. “He’s a shade darker than I am, I think. Still raw, but respectable enough to pass for any vacationing tourist.”
David sat on the long divan and Lestat stretched out beside him.
“I saw no scarring,” Louis added, lowering himself onto a straight-backed chair and crossing his legs.
His maker nodded. “None at all. But he was in terrible pain when I arrived at sunset. You remember how it was with me, David, and I had the advantage of ancient blood.”
David nodded thoughtfully. “You helped him, then?”
“We both did,” Louis said. “Even with Lestat’s blood, he was still agonizing.”
“It might be years before he’s completely healed,” Lestat said, sighing. “And the cold may bother him as it still does me, but I believe we’ve stopped the pain.”
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” David offered.
Lestat shook his head slowly. “I’m sure Armand would appreciate that, but not just yet, David. I suspect Marius may turn up at sunset and it might not be a good idea to feed Armand solely from myself and my fledglings.”
David pondered momentarily. “What are you thinking, Lestat?”
“I don’t know. Call it a hunch, or just plain, old-fashioned caution, but Armand believed himself evil for centuries, a servant of darkness in one form or another. He recognized goodness tonight and now that’s stewing inside him. How will it ultimately affect him?” He shrugged.
“Very good point,” David agreed.
Lestat smiled. “I’m glad you like it. When you meet Chérie, you may understand further. But just look what an infusion of blood has done for Louis.” His gaze narrowed. “They won’t tell me, of course, and I’d never presume to ask, but I suspect they feed from each other. Regularly.”
Louis’s cheeks flushed.
“In fact,” Lestat continued, “I’m surprised Maharet hasn’t added an addendum to the Great Family, tracing our bloodlines.”
“It’s only distantly related to her Great Family, now isn’t it?” David said. “But after your last extraordinary outing, I began tracking it myself. To see where Christ’s blood flowed.” He turned to Louis, his smile wide. “Now tell me of your Chérie. Where is she?”
Louis beamed. “With Armand and Daniel. She needed to hunt,” he said.
David nodded. “This would be her fourth feeding?” He waited for Louis’s nod. “Yes, she’s progressing faster than I did.”
“Perhaps you could tell her that when you have the chance,” Lestat said. “She was being rather hard on herself for feeling the need so much sooner than Louis.”
“Certainly, I’d be pleased to help.” He returned his attention to Louis. “She must be lovely from the changes I see in you. They can’t all be from Lestat’s blood.”
“If I may beg off the details until a later time, let me tell you for now that I have never known life like this. Daniel has documented it, so perhaps you can come out to California for a few nights. I believe Chérie has her heart set on stopping at the townhouse for a while before we return, but I think she would welcome your visit.”
“Yes, please come,” came a lush alto from the terrace. Chérie stepped through the doors, alone. They all rose as she crossed to kiss Louis, her cheeks flushed and warm to his touch.
“Spectacular,” David uttered.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Louis smiled. There was no vanity in her reply, simply a sincere appreciation for the compliment given, for the kindness in its expressing. Her beauty was hidden from her and if it existed, she had said, the credit was due her mortal and immortal parents, not to her.
Lestat extended his hand to her and, when she clasped it, he drew her before the tall muscular vampire. “David Talbot, I’m honored to present your new sister. Chérie, this is David.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you, David,” she said. “You’ve done so much for Lestat and for that you have my eternal gratitude.”
Her maker was taken aback, but David was gracious as always.
“The pleasure is most assuredly mine, mademoiselle,” he said, pressing his lips briefly to the fingers of her proffered hand. He glanced up at Louis. “More charming than I could have imagined.”
Louis nodded in acknowledgment. “Why have you returned ahead of the others, Chérie?”
She smiled innocently. “I could not stand to be away from you a moment longer, of course.” Her blue-gray eyes sparkled.
“Flatterer,” Louis teased, laughing silently.
“It’s true, I swear!” She giggled. “But Daniel wanted time alone with Armand. And now I can see why. He must realize the villa will fill up and they’ll never have a moment together.” She became serious. “The dawn is not far off, my love.”
“Turning in early, are you?” Lestat asked impishly, winking at Louis.
“Indeed. I have yet to see the condition of my suite.” Louis embraced David warmly. “We shall talk,” he promised.
“I look forward to it,” David said, bowing to accept Chérie’s kiss. “Or perhaps you would like to tell the story for once. I suspect Louis has monopolized the telling.” He squeezed her hand gently before releasing it.
She smiled, hearing the speedboat approach. “Or perhaps Daniel, who had to write it all down. But for now, we must take our leave. Please extend our good-nights to Armand and Daniel.”
“I will,” David said.
Lestat walked with them to the end of the room. Louis held him tightly for a moment, stealing a brief kiss before stepping aside for Chérie. Lestat lifted her from the ground and cradled her in his arms.
“Sleep well, Chérie. Watch over Louis,” he said, his eyes closing for her embrace.
It had become their ritual. Louis found the display touching. Their maker was protective of her as he had been of no other. Not even Claudia. And Chérie tolerated it better, without question, truly enjoying his affections.
Lestat gently set her upon her feet and she ran her hand down his cheek. “Bonne nuit, mon père.”
“Bonne nuit, Chérie. Louis.” Their maker turned to rejoin David.
Arm in arm, they walked to the end of the hall and mounted the stairs to the third floor. A long hallway stretched before them, glass windows along the seaward side, doors on the shoreward. Louis paused before one of the doors and entered a series of numbers on the keypad. When the indicator changed colors, he pushed open the door and held it for Chérie. She turned abruptly at the sound of the door closing, locks and concealed panels falling into place.
Louis smiled. “The door is secure against the sun. Daniel worked a long time with the engineers to perfect it. And the terrace has a similar mechanism.”
She turned again as Louis stood close behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Her gaze moved about the room in wonder.
“It’s beautiful, Louis. I never would have guessed, although reading of the Matisse in the townhouse should have been clue enough.”
Louis was pleased she liked the room. He and Daniel had worked through plan after plan before succeeding with the effect.
The entire suite seemed bathed in sunlight. The plastered walls were cut into at ingenious angles and painted slightly darker or lighter hues to simulate the fresh low rays of sunrise. There was a decided feel to the room of a secluded villa on the Côte d’Azur. Flowering vines of myriad vibrant hues grew from recessed and deep planters, fed and lighted through electronic sensors, trailing their fragrant tendrils along carefully chosen paths. The ceiling had an almost unseen tint of blue in the white.
He walked ahead of her and pressed the button that lowered the terrace guard into place.
She watched the Miami skyline in puzzlement. “Nothing is happening.” Then she gasped in delight. “The panel is identical to the skyline!”
“Yes,” Louis said. His eyes shifted to the control panel when he heard its alerting beep. “The entire room is impervious to the sun. We may sleep here, or if you prefer, we can retire to my crypt.”
“Here,” she whispered reverently. “I’ve never seen a more perfect room. It’s as if we’ve stepped into Monet’s garden.” Her gaze narrowed. “Lestat doesn’t come here, does he?”
Louis sat on the edge of the enormous bed, its bleached posts draped with billowy netting. The bed appeared to grow directly out of the cool earthen tiles that formed a step around its perimeter. “He came in here once, but he said it was too realistic to tolerate.” He pulled off his boots and socks as she knelt before him on the tiles, her feet already bare. “I have never missed the sun, Chérie. It’s not the sun I tried to capture in this room.”
“It’s the morning air,” she said, smiling. “Fresh and clean.”
“Precisely.” Louis sighed deeply. “You understand so well. You make the room perfect, my love.”
She reached up and touched the netting draped over his head.
“And exactly what sort of blood drinkers is this supposed to keep out?”
Louis laughed, delighted by the image, as she slowly pulled off his thick sweater, unbuttoning and removing the heavy broadcloth shirt beneath. Slowly, she ran her hands across his chest, loving every inch of his preternatural flesh. He pulled her closer, sliding his long fingers up under her sweater, relishing the smoothness of her skin, until he drew the sweater over her head. He dropped it to the floor as she unbuttoned his jeans. He stood slowly as she held the thick indigo fabric, pulling off each leg in turn. He again sat and began unfastening her jeans, holding her as they fell to her ankles and she stepped from them.
Louis lifted her in his arms and lay her on the warm flannel sheets. He reached for the control panel and pressed a series of buttons. As the lights dimmed, a breeze came up, warm yet refreshing, and he saw Chérie’s lips part in delight. He stretched out beside her, resting on one elbow, his chin propped on his hand. Lightly, he let his fingertips wander across her opalescent skin, tracing the delicate paths where he saw her blood flow. His dark green eyes lazily followed her contours until they were swimming in the brilliant blue-gray depths of her eyes.
“Marry me,” he whispered. “Be my bride.”
Louis watched, enthralled, as blood flooded the pools that were her eyes. He watched her lungs struggle for breath, her lips move soundlessly. He watched it all, memorizing everything, and waited.
With seemingly great effort, she pressed her lips together and swallowed dryly.
“My sweet Louis,” she said quietly, her fingers touching his lips, tracing his dark brow, and gently pushing his hair away from his face. “So many gifts you have given me and when I think there can be none greater, you give me this. Forever is a long time for us. Forgive me for asking but, for you, I must.” She took a deep breath. “Are you sure, Louis?”
He smiled slowly, the low light glistening in his eyes. “Oh, yes, my love. I was so very glad of your early return that we might have this one perfect moment. So that I might tell you that there was no life in me until you entered my heart. You have watered my soul and coaxed the blossoms from their long hibernation. Whether you marry me or not, I am yours forever, my love. But I will always want you for my bride.”
Her tears fell. “Then we shall marry, my love. Such pure love I found when you first took my hand in the moonlight. We were the same, you and I, two creatures made whole. I knew then that I would spend every night thereafter at your side. Every tomorrow is ours.”
She wept as he gathered her into his arms, their naked skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Two became one. He buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply.
Louis lifted her chin and gently kissed away the tears, her blood in his mouth, becoming his blood. Hungrily, he pressed his lips to hers, holding their silky texture for a moment before tasting again. And again. And again. His lips drew taut, pulled seemingly against his will into an ever-widening smile. He felt as if he would never stop smiling again. His own tears gathered as the first laugh escaped him. Such joy as he’d never known!
She smiled up at him, mischief mixing with her happiness, so easy to see in her eyes. “You realize, of course, that Lestat will insist on making the arrangements. Lestat will....” Her voice trailed off, her eyes growing wide in recognition. “Lestat knew!”
“Yes, my love. Such a thing has never been done before and who better to consult than he who breaks every rule?” His eyes danced. “And yes, he wants to make all the arrangements. But we can fight him on that tonight. Sleep is upon us, my love.”
She lay nestled against his chest, listening to his heart beating its terrible rhythm and he felt hers pounding an identical song beside him. Their eyes closed and they slept.
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