Learn to say Goodbye
By Beverley Lee, 1998


Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur, non-profit fiction and is not meant
to infringe on the copyrights of Anne Rice, her publishers or Pagan Fire
Muzick and the excellent Inkubus Sukkubus. The story is mine, anyone who
tampers with it, or tries to pass it on without my permission, remember, I
know where you lie!

Warning: This spec contains spoilers up to the end of Memnoch.

Dedication: This one I will dedicate to the narrator of this story, Louis
de Pointe du Lac, for his gentleness and beauty, the fallen angel of the
night.

Any comments good or bad gratefully accepted!

'I've touched your beauty
Tasted your poison brew
You've held me closer than any man could do
Now come, sweet Morpheus there's lands we've yet to see
Unfold your comforting arms, and we'll fall endlessly'

Inkubus Sukkubus
1997

Europe - the year of 2022

The moonlight glistened on the wet stones in the old wall, now crumbling
with neglect. It had rained all day, but now with the darkness of night,
the spring rain had ceased. Wild lemon primroses nestled by the foot of the
wall, the larger base stones almost covered with moss. The trees here were
very old, close together, their branches reaching out far above, grasping
for the few twinkling stars that had appeared. An old oak had succumbed to
time and weather and lay at an obscene angle, its trunk almost touching the
top of the wall; the small gap between covered in wild bramble. It had been
this way for decades but soon with the re-discovery of these ancient
gardens, it would change. The men had already been, disturbing the fragile
bluebells, destroying the overgrown pathways, men with clipboards and tape
measures, they would soon have this wilderness tamed.
I had heard the men's voices, muffled though they were, I had seen only
darkness, breathed the odour of damp, rotting vegetation for so many years.
I knew it was time to arise.
I surprised myself at how quickly I came to the surface. As I broke through
the final layer of decaying leaves and fertile soil, the moon disappeared
behind a night cloud. As it came into view I marvelled at how beautiful it
still was, how good it was to breathe the cold night air even though as my
lungs expanded the pain of breathing deeply made me rest awhile against the
old wall. The pain eased after a few minutes and I walked onwards
delighting in the feel of the solid ground beneath me. I followed the
overgrown path, even without the moonlight my night vision was excellent. I
found an old gate, its paint blistered by the sun, its lock rusted and
seized. It gave way as I pushed my shoulder against it; I went through
stepping into the long, wet grass at the other side. It was deathly quiet,
not even the night creatures disturbed the peace, and perhaps my presence
had caused their silence. In the middle of the enclosed garden was a pond,
its sundial centrepiece crumbling on the pedestal that raised it above the
water. The pond was full of debris; huge water lilies floated together, so
many it looked like a patchwork quilt of nature's design. I knelt down and
put my hand into the water, clearing a space so I could gaze at my own
reflection.
I waited until the water became still, studying the face that I had not
seen for decades. My face was thin, my cheekbones high and prominent, the
flesh that covered them so translucent it almost seemed painted onto my
skull. My lips were colourless and tight, only my eyes sunk deep into the
sockets displayed any life. Deep green, like chips of emerald ice they
glistened in the water. A lock of hair fell onto my forehead, I brushed it
back with one hand, running my fingers through the rest of my hair, teasing
out the knots until my hair lay thick and long over my shoulders, a curtain
of dirty black tresses. Stepping back from the pond I could feel my mind
slowly clearing, a smile appeared on my lips, my senses were all coming
back, the one thought forming in my mind, overtaking all other thoughts,
nothing else mattered. I had to feed.

I survived for two nights on the blood of small animals that crossed my
path. On the third night, a lone hitchhiker wearily passing through the
village became my first human victim. I killed him quickly; I had lost none
of my finesse in accomplishing this, although the taking of human life
still tormented me. His blood revitalised my senses, I felt alive, and my
veins pulsed with pleasure as his lifeblood flooded through them. What had
someone said to me all those years ago...? 'Kill them swiftly if you will,
but do it! Learn that you are a killer.'
Lestat. The gates to my memory crashed down and all the events leading to
my going to ground were released. I sat down on the damp grass, leaning my
back against the trunk of a great tree and I let my thoughts wash over me.

March 1994

I had not seen Lestat for over a month. Every time I tried to visit, he
would not see me, but this evening he had sent for me. I dressed carefully
to please him and left my hair loose. He was staying in the penthouse on
Decatur; it was only a two minute stroll from Royale. I tried to walk
slowly but my anticipation of seeing him again made me arrive ten minutes
before my appointed time.
David opened the door to me. His face was tired and drawn but he embraced
me warmly. I followed him into the large living area and sat down on the
sofa. David went to the window and pulled the drapes against the night. I
sat like a stranger gazing at the paintings on the wall; suddenly I knew he
was there, I did not have to see him to feel his presence.
"You can stay, David, you know what I am going to say." David picked up a
leather bound book from the table and started to read, but his poise was
awkward. I stood up to meet the eyes of my maker. They were wild like the
storm filled sky I had not seen for so many years. Stepping towards him, I
opened my arms but he raised his hand, saying, "Louis, if I ask you to do
something very important for me, will you do it?"
I did not hesitate in answering. "You know I would do anything for you,
Lestat!" I could not understand why he was refusing to embrace me. He took
a step towards me, put one hand on my shoulder, and ran his other hand
gently along my cheek. "Louis, what I have to say to you now is breaking my
heart," he paused. I made him hold eye contact with me. Such pain in those
eyes, how he had suffered in his last adventure.
"I cannot be held responsible for my actions at this time, my love, these
recent revelations have torn me apart. The fact that you are here, so close
is not helping me. I will not pull you down into the abyss with me; I will
not let you see me suffer. I want you to leave New Orleans." His words
stung me like a whiplash, I felt the room begin to spin.
The nausea welled up in me and I clutched at his arm wildly. He steadied me
and raising my hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it. "Farewell,
Louis." His voice was barely audible, his eyes lowered. I found that I
could not speak and my legs gave way as I sank to the ground.
He walked away from me then as I stared wide-eyed in disbelief. I glanced
at David; he raised his hands in the air in frustration and glared at
Lestat's retreating form. Lestat turned as he reached the bedroom door, he
put out his hand and held the
doorframe tightly, I could see his fingers whiten. Never had I seen him so
desolate. "Stay beautiful my Gentle One," his voice was raw, I could hardly
bear the pain hidden in his eyes. Then he was gone.
David rushed to help me, he tried to make me stand but I was frozen. He put
his arm around my shoulder and I noticed that he was trembling slightly. "
I have tried to make him see sense but you know how stubborn he is." There
was a note of desperation in David's voice as he tried to offer me some
shred of comfort. "Leave here for a short time, Louis. Travel to some part
of the world where you have never been, use this time for self appraisal,
and then come back to us!" He ended on a plea.
David finally helped me to stand and silently he walked by my side to the
door. This must be a bad dream, Lestat would never treat me as cruelly as
this, my head was pounding.
"Louis, promise me you will return." David pleaded as he kissed me lightly
on the cheek. Turning to him as I stepped onto the street, I pulled up the
collar of my jacket against the falling rain. The words choked me as I
fought to say them. "Look after him for me, David. Tell him..tell him.." I
broke down as the tears finally fell and I fled leaving David in pained
anguish. I ran blinded by my tears along the Quarter streets ending my
journey in the small cemetery behind the St. Louis cathedral. I fell to my
knees against an ancient gravestone, and the nausea overcame me and I
vomited so violently that it ran from my nose; and in the pouring rain The
Vampire Louis cried his heart out.


In the weeks that followed, I made my travel plans with no enthusiasm and a
heavy heart, and in late March of 1994 I said farewell to my lady New
Orleans and made my way to Europe. Through Belgium, Holland and France I
travelled; Paris brought back so many memories; I did not stay for long. In
the April of the same year I arrived in the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, a
tiny, proud country nestling beneath the German/Belgium border. A country
of great contrast, rolling hills and mighty forests, ancient chateaux and
little villages, it drew from me a certain passion, amidst all the pain in
my heart. I grew to love its' wild unspoilt beauty.

I took to spending my early evenings in the tiny church in Larochette,
alone with my thoughts I tried to plan my life without Lestat. No one was
ever in the church at this time, but on this particular evening, the day
before Easter Sunday, as I sat admiring the beautiful spring flowers
arranged by the altar, I sensed the approach of another. What made me
decide to stay seated and not to flee I am not sure, but I waited my head
bowed as if in prayer, as the mortal approached. He passed me and I saw it
was a young priest, his arms full of another spring bouquet, which he
placed tenderly by the altar. He saw me watching him and he came towards
me, his pale blue eyes smiling apologetically. He spoke to me in French. "I
am sorry to have disturbed you."
I raised my eyes and let him look straight into them. The colour drained
from his face but he did not turn to flee.
"What can I do to help you?" he asked, his voice surprisingly firm.
I studied him intently before I answered. I surmised him to be in his early
twenties, about the same height as myself, light brown hair that fell
forwards onto his face and those pale blue eyes, so innocent. "I am a devil
that you pray does not exist." I said quietly.
"I know you have been visiting this church for a number of evenings," he
paused, "And the despair you feel hangs around you, how can I and the House
of God help you?" He reached out his hand towards me in a gesture of
friendship.
I threw my head back and laughed fixing him with a manic stare. He had seen
my fangs in that moment. "Do not speak to me of God or of good and evil!" I
almost spat at him. "I have taken victims in the House of God and no band
of avenging angels has come down to reprimand me. I live each night in the
knowledge that to survive I have to kill, a vicious circle of death, and I
have existed this way for over 200 years." I watched his face as I said
these words. Most normal men would by now have turned to run, or have
fallen to their knees in terror, but this man had that certain spark of
life and love of mankind that marks them above all mortal men.
I stood up and went towards him slowly. He stood his ground but as I
scanned his mind, a thin film of fear clouded his vision.
"I am Louis de Pointe du Lac, born into darkness in the year 1791 in the
city of New Orleans, Louisiana." We were face to face. "I believe it is
considered polite to tell me your name," I said softly.
"My name is Jean-Paul Levanche, child of this parish. I am 23 years of age
and I have pledged my life to the service of the Lord." His voice was soft
but the underlying strength was as solid as the stones of this church.
"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Monsieur," I smiled with an
exaggerated bow. He held out his hand after a moment's hesitation. I took
his hand in mine and watched his face register shock as he felt the icy
coldness of my flesh; I had not yet fed.
"May God have mercy on your soul, vampire." He uttered the last word in
disbelief.
I pulled him closer to me, letting him feel the strength behind my touch.
"So what does tonight do for your faith, my friend?" His face was inches
from mine, how did I look to him? "If I exist and I am evil in your eyes,
does that not mean that your God exists too, to balance the equation? But
then if that is true why does He let me go on killing innocents to feed my
thirst?"
He did not struggle in my grip but I could feel the turmoil within him as
he fought to make sense of my words. Finally he spoke, "Tell me what I have
to do to save you, Louis."
"I am damned for eternity, Jean-Paul," I whispered. Such sweet irony that
this brave mortal shared the same name as my beloved brother, and through
his death fate had led Lestat to me. My dear Lestat, no matter that you had
cast me out; my love for you gnaws at my soul, smouldering like the embers
from the fire of the Phoenix.
I pressed my lips gently to his face and whispered, "What can I offer you,
Jean-Paul?" The germination of an idea suddenly exploded in my mind. Why
could I not make this Lamb of God into my fledgling, how much more damned
could I be? Marius had told Lestat to only make a fledgling in love, but
then Lestat had made me in love he had told me, and then he had sent me
away. And what of David? Lestat had raped the Dark Gift on David and how
close they are now.
I continued voicing my thoughts out loud. "I can give you eternal life my
friend, give me one word and I will bring you into darkness and show you
things you have only imagined in your wildest dreams." I stroked the back
of his neck with my nails. I scanned his mind reading the tumble of images
that came from him, fear, disbelief, concern, and above all his faith
burning like a beacon, his love of a deity that he had never seen. I felt
his whole body tremble as I tipped his head back and ran my fingers over
his throat. "One word, Jean-Paul," I coaxed as I seduced him with
everything in my vampiric power.
"Louis, please don't suffocate my belief!" He cried out, his voice
breaking. "Believe in me, mon cher," I whispered viciously. "I am flesh and
blood and here for you now. Where is your God to tempt you with what I have
to offer?" My cruelty stung me like a whiplash but still I continued.
He kissed me gently as you would a friend and with a firm hold on my
shoulders he told me, "Devil sent to tempt me, get behind me for I do not
believe in true evil!" A veil of anger clouded my reasoning and the vampire
in my soul burst through. I listened to his heartbeat racing wildly, smelt
his intoxicating belief and under the altar with the scent of the spring
flowers all around, I sank my fangs cruelly into his neck. His blood was
sweet and strong, and as I drained him, I blocked the images of his family
and undying trust in the church. Before the last heartbeat I raised my head
and looked into his eyes. They were wide open, bottomless, as though all
the questions he had ever asked had been answered in a moment. And as the
angel of death appeared for him behind his shoulder, he whispered so
gently, "I forgive you, Louis, for you have opened the door of heaven to
me." A smile played fleetingly on his lips as his last heartbeat thundered
in my ears.
The light went from his eyes and his body became limp as I stared in abject
horror at what I had done. The faces of the alabaster saints seemed to
close in all around me; the ceiling of the church appeared to fall until it
was no more than an arm's reach away from me. The suffocating
claustrophobia of my mortal years threatened to squeeze the very life from
my body. I fell backwards; violently careering into the many lighted
candles that adorned the shrine of the Virgin Mary. They spluttered and
dimmed only a few remaining with their guiding light. The aroma from the
flowers now sickened me in their beauty, and on the stone pillars, the
marble faces of the angels became alive and they damned me for my act of
fury. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the great stone lids of
the knight's sarcophagi move, as they too writhed in torment.
I stumbled towards the great door of the church and I clawed desperately at
the iron door ring, all my senses seemed to merge into one immense struggle
to survive, if Lestat had taught me anything it was to never give in. The
door was immovable. I leant with my back against it and looked towards the
scene of carnage I had created.
A pinpoint of light by the altar captured my attention and as I watched in
horrified fascination it became larger and seemed to pulse with life, its'
edges shimmering with some unseen force. A sound echoed from within the
light and a vision of childlike innocence took form with her hair like a
halo of golden curls she seemed to float towards me. As she came nearer, I
heard her bell like voice as she chastised me. "Oh Louis, my love, what
have you done now?" The light enveloped me and I fought it with every ounce
of strength in my body. I would not go quietly into death's doorway, if
this were my punishment from beyond the grave for the taking of the life of
one of God's servants I would not bow my head in shame. The last sound I
heard before I collapsed was his name that came as a scream from my lips as
I tumbled into darkness.

Faint rays of light were streaming in through the stained glass windows as
I awoke. The events of the night seemed like some ghastly nightmare but the
sight of Jean-Paul's contorted body snapped me into life. Had she come from
the depths of my imagination or had she really been here? I ran my fingers
through my hair and tried to rationalise my thoughts. Was I going mad?
Would Nicki's fate be mine?
My eyes were smarting and I realised with horror that dawn had already
broken. I had to find shelter away from here and with my heart pounding in
fear I opened the door and fled into the light. I grimaced in pain as my
skin immediately began to blister, I could barely see as my eyes were
streaming with tears of hurt and reaction to the light. I ran not knowing
where I was heading, across the misty graveyard and into the dense woodland
beyond. The foliage here was thick and dark; I paused to catch my breath. I
smelt my own flesh burning, the scent invading my nose causing me to choke
and gag. My hands were raw and weeping and I knew my face would be the
same. Not so beautiful now, Lestat, would you still want me? I fled onwards
knowing I had to find shelter as a matter of urgency. I leapt across an old
stone wall and falling to my knees, I began to dig furiously in the damp
soil. Lestat, help me, I begged of him silently, but no sound came through
the trees save for my sobs of pain. I threw myself into the ground just as
the sun burst through the trees, the dark velvet earth soothing my charred
flesh.
I did not sleep straight away, the pain throbbed on my skin like red-hot
needles and my eyes continued to stream. Had he heard my plea, the thought
went repeatedly in my mind and as I held my arms to my body in some
desperate hunt for comfort, I cried myself into the death sleep.
I awoke to the peel of a church bell rejoicing in the resurrection of
Christ. What a bittersweet irony, I should have laughed but the dull pain
of my weeping skin was uppermost in my thoughts. I tried to rise but my
body felt numb and as heavy as lead, as though it did not belong to me. A
voice inside my head told me to stay, I had to heal, it would take time,
and after all what does a vampire have, if not time? I was trapped in my
nightmare, buried alive in this breathing immortal body. It was futile to
try to move; only my thoughts were alive. I did not want this living hell
but I had to pay the price for my sins.

2022

And so it came to pass that I had gone into the ground for the first time.
My physical scars had now healed and although I felt a blanket of despair
was still around my shoulders, I also felt a small shred of optimism. I had
decided to go home.
New Orleans. The last place I had seen him and where I would seek him
first. He had sent me away but surely after all these years we could start
again? If I did not find him, there I would go to Rio, London, Paris, and
all the other great cities of the world that we had shared together. My
newborn determination exhilarated me as I made my plans to return to my
city of dreams.

Standing outside the door of the town house my hand was trembling as I
knocked on the door. Lestat would have laughed at this mortal gesture, but
I felt I had been away so long it was only right to wait to be invited in.
Faint footsteps coming from the staircase, then the door opened and there
stood David exactly as I remembered him except for a hidden pain behind his
eyes. He threw his arms around me. " My dear Louis!" he exclaimed, "Where
have you been? We thought you were dead!" He laughed out loud and pulled me
closer. I buried my face in his shoulder rejoicing in the contact of
another after so long. I realised that he was a little taller than Lestat,
a fact that Lestat had not been at all keen on. "Don't just stand there,
Louis, come in and warm yourself by the fire!" He ushered me inside and a
glow of pleasure shot through me, I was home.
We went into the drawing room; it was just as I remembered save for a
beautiful, mahogany grandfather clock standing in the corner by the window.
"I am rather fond of that clock, its' tick is somewhat soothing when you
live by yourself," he said softly.
I knelt by the fire and warmed my hands, watching the flames perform their
frenzied dance.
"What of Lestat?" I asked, my voice trembling.
David put his hand on my shoulder. "He has gone into the ground again,
Louis. He suffered so much in the months following your departure and when
you did not return he presumed you were gone forever."
"Do you know where he is?" I asked, not daring for a positive answer. I
tried to concentrate on the flames but they were a blur.
"Lafayette, the tomb with the four stone angels. I go there sometimes and
talk to him of what I have done." The deep pain in his voice shook me, poor
David he had suffered too.
"Sit with me David and I will tell you my tale." I settled myself in my
favourite wing back chair, David sat opposite me and by the light and
warmth of the fire, I recounted my story to the Talamasca scribe.
The grandfather clock had just struck 4am when I finished my tale. David
had never uttered a word, just a simple gesture when he wanted me to
continue. His eyes never left my face as I poured out my account of the
last few decades. We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the tiny
flames that were left dance in the embers. "Do you want to go to him?"
David asked gently.

...
I nodded in response; the words had all dried up in my throat.

Through the streets we passed, stepping across the drunks that barred our
way on Bourbon, along Canal and St. Charles in a blur. Then the imposing
gates of Lafayette. I hesitated until David took my arm and led me to where
he lay. I stood and stared at the ground, hardly comprehending that my
beloved Lestat lay cold and motionless buried beneath. I fell to my knees
and placed my hands on the damp earth. The rain that had threatened earlier
had just begun to fall.
"Lestat!" I whispered his name. "I have come home my love!" I pleaded.
Silence, only the wind caressing the tombstones and the milky light of the
moon.
I threw myself down on the ground to be closer to him. The tears fell from
my eyes and soaked into the soil. Sink through to him, pierce his silence
and bring him back to me I begged. The sobs racked my body as all my pent
up emotions flooded out.
David's hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality. "Come, Louis, we
must go," he coaxed me gently. The first rays of dawn were barely evident
in the sky but already my eyes were uncomfortable; memories of that dawn in
Larochette came rushing back, but still I did not want to leave.
David gathered me up in his arms and before I could protest, we were moving
faster than a mortal could see back to our town house on Royale. Once there
he showed me to my old room, familiar surroundings of happier times greeted
me as I looked around the room, nothing had been changed. I fell wearily
onto the bed and closed my eyes immediately as the death sleep covered me
in her deadly kisses.
The next night just after the sun had gone down, I awoke and for a moment
it was as if all that had happened to me had been a ghastly nightmare.
Maybe if I went downstairs Lestat would be waiting for me with that
quizzical look in his eyes, he would chastise me gently for not waking
earlier and we would go out together for a stroll or maybe to the Café du
Monde, where we would sit and warm our hands on the cups of steaming
coffee. However, it was not a bad dream I realised as I sat up. The thirst
burned deep in me as I walked around the room delighting in the feel of my
treasured possessions. I ran my fingers lightly over the polished surface
of my writing desk, my pen and ink still where I had left them. Maybe I
would write all this down one day I mused, as I left the room and padded
downstairs.
David was sitting in the drawing room reading a copy of 'The Times'. A cup
of Earl Grey tea in a china cup and saucer sat beside him on the table. He
saw me looking at it and smiled. "An old habit, my friend, I am afraid I
still like the smell." His face became serious as he folded his newspaper
carefully. " The night he sent you away, Louis, was the hardest night of my
vampire existence. I could do nothing to comfort him. He watched you flee
with his hands pressed up against the window, and when you were gone he
turned to me and said, 'The best part of me has gone, David. I will never
forgive myself for what I have just done to him.' Then he disappeared into
the bedroom and locked the door. I heard him howling like a wounded beast
for most of the night."
I did not have words to express how this made me feel so I just said; " I
need to go out, David."
He knew exactly what I meant. "Do you require any company?"
I shook my head in reply and turned to go. "Louis, it is so good to have
you home again." His voice was full of love. I could not cope with such
closeness now, I was so hungry. I gave him a small smile in reply and
quietly closed the door behind me.
What led me to Lafayette first I do not know. Before I reached Lestat's
resting place, I took a victim in the shadow of the old fire station tomb,
a vagrant trying to find shelter and warmth on this cold night. I did not
enjoy the taste or feel of him, he was just something to satisfy my thirst.
Then I walked over and sat on the ground next to where he lay. Should I
stay here and guard your resting place, be your guardian demon? What have I
learnt in over two centuries of existence, how to hate and despair, how to
love, how to lose? What if all that you have suffered is too much for even
you, Lestat? The questions tumbled through my mind as I sat, almost a
breathing statue. Have my eyes lost their light? You always loved my eyes,
may they be a beacon to guide you from the darkness. I never want to leave
your side again.
The new day began to permeate the black and again David like a knight in
shining armour was there to see me safely home.

The following evening I started my night sitting by the fire. David was
out, hunting I presumed. Tonight I did not feel so hungry. I heard him
return and settled back with my eyes closed to await his company. Suddenly
I realised that he was in the room watching me. I opened my eyes and smiled
at him. David was holding a small box in his hand; he came towards me and
held out his hand, offering me the box.
"Just a small token of affection, Louis."
I took it and carefully unwrapped the paper. Opening the box I almost cried
out in delight at its' contents. An antique, white handkerchief delicately
edged in lace lay nestled in the box. It belonged to Lestat, I recognised
it immediately. I took it and pressed it up against my lips.
"I know how you hate these modern tissues," he grinned at me, his eyes
dancing with happiness.
"David, I don't know what to say!" I exclaimed. " It is such a beautiful
gift, what can I give you in return?"
"The look on your face as you opened the box was more than enough to repay
me," he said softly. "We are true blood brothers after all, we are family."
That this gentle vampire could be my Lestat if only I had granted his wish
when he came to me in the body that David now possessed. How he had begged
me for my Dark Kiss that night. He never knew how his pleas had torn my
soul to shreds, how I had to use every fibre of my being to resist his
charms.
I traced the line of his jaw with my finger and felt a strange urge of
desire creep across my body. I looked into his eyes and saw only adoration,
if I gave myself to David how could it be a sin? Such wisdom and honesty in
a being who had lived out a mortal life time, and now those strengths were
magnified in this magnificent vampire host.
"I will offer you no resistance if you want to make love to me," I
whispered. "I want you to make me feel something other than despair, to let
me know I am still alive!"
David cupped my face in his hands. "Share your pain with me, Louis! I lost
him too." He kissed my forehead and as I scanned his mind I heard the echo
from his soul saying, 'Be mine, Louis.' He took my hand and led me
upstairs; my heart was beating wildly as we entered the bedroom. David took
me in his arms stroking my hair back with his hands. "I have been alone so
long, you feel so right in my arms. Ever since the first night I laid eyes
on you when Lestat brought you with him and he introduced himself to me in
that eloquent manner of his, I thought you were like a prized jewel, so
precious and I worshipped you from afar..." I silenced him with a kiss and I
turned towards the bed. He was struggling with all the different emotions I
stirred in him. Dear David, it has been so long since I felt anything but a
cold despair, please make this un-dead creature feel alive again. I sat
down on the bed and waited for the tiger to stalk. He approached me slowly,
his emotions reeling, his English upbringing screaming for him to stop.
"Louis, are you sure you want this?"
"You do not have to ask my permission, my English friend," I whispered.
His eyes met mine and I saw the animal hunger in them. The flecks of gold
in his liquid brown eyes gleamed dangerously and his soft mouth quivered
slightly in anticipation. I pulled him closer and encouraged him with
gentle words and caresses. He did nothing until I stopped and he then held
me mesmerised with his stare. And then the tiger pounced and before I had a
chance to draw breath his fangs were in the curve of my throat. His
strength was phenomenal but then he was Lestat's last fledgling and had
made none of his own that I was aware of.
He raised his head, my blood still dripping from his mouth. "Drink from me,
my darling, I have his blood in my veins, taste your lover in me," he
purred. He pulled me towards the pulsating vein in his throat. I held the
skin of his neck between my teeth and delicately ran my tongue over his
skin. I could feel the pulse of his blood through the nerves on my tongue;
it sent shivers down my spine. I sank my fangs in slowly, a whimper coming
from deep in my throat. David renewed his drink from me and the circle of
life within death was complete. I opened my mind to him and gave him images
of my decades of solitude. He, in turn, gave me images of himself alone in
this beautiful old house, occasionally meeting with Gabrielle or Marius. I
pryed deeper for some small picture of Lestat but he kept these visions
from me. Angrily I dug my fangs in more, cruelly drinking deeper. He
finally relented and then I saw in his mind a vision of Lestat the last
time David had seen him. He was standing outside the St. Louis cathedral,
his hands in his jeans pockets and his jacket collar pulled up against the
winter wind, a picture of dejection. And then the final glance, Lestat's
hair blowing wildly around his face and his eyes, those haunting, beautiful
eyes were dull and lifeless. A final half smile of farewell and he was gone
into the night as though he had never existed.


I had not realised I was holding my breath until I exhaled deeply.
"When he thought you were dead, Louis, something inside him died too. He
became a shell of the vampire he once was. You were the flame that warmed
his soul and then you were gone and the flame was extinguished forever. I
was not in the least bit surprised when I heard from Daniel that he had
gone into the ground again."
David lovingly brushed a lock of hair from my face. " I will not take
anything else from you, Louis, even though my desire for you is so very
strong." His voice was rough with emotion.
I embraced him tightly, grateful for his understanding. He kissed my closed
eyes tasting the blood-salt that threatened to escape them. " I know you
would have let me love you, Louis, but you would never have been mine, even
in the throes of passion you would still picture me as him. If I had
thought that it could work I would have settled for being second best, just
to be with you."
Swallowing hard I answered, "I don't deserve you, David."
"The damned deserve each other, Louis, our greatest punishment is eternity
with no companion. Sleep now, we will talk tomorrow." We lay silently in
each other's arms, the weariness creeping up on me steadily. An hour until
dawn I surmised, rest now. David felt for my hand and squeezed it lightly.
I kissed his shoulder in reply, no words were needed. Maybe from all this
hurt a seed of love could be sown.

The next evening as I entered the drawing room David was looking out of the
window studying the people as they made their way about their early evening
business. His hair was still damp from the shower; the water still
glistened in the dark brown curls. A copy of 'The Times' lay untouched on
the coffee table by the old chesterfield sofa.
"David?" I questioned. Something was definitely wrong, had I displeased him
somehow?
Slowly he turned to me and I saw what was in his hand. A single red rose
with a black velvet bow tied on the stem. " I found it on your pillow when
I awoke," he said softly, "Along with this." He held out his other hand. A
lock of blond hair, slightly dirty but unmistakably his. I grabbed hold of
the wall for support, my head was spinning. He was alive! The joy burst
through my despair exploding it into millions of pieces, and all those
pieces were colours and all those colours were the colours I had seen
reflected in his eyes. Then the knowledge like an ice-cold waterfall. He
had risen from the ground; I must have awoken him with my pleas. Somehow he
had struggled to the surface and made his way back to where he knew I would
be waiting, and making his way to our bedroom he had found me in David's
arms. No innocence in the fact we were together. The marks of blood on the
sheets testimony to our passion. What thoughts had gone through his head as
he gazed down at his two sleeping children?
Spinning around I opened my arms in a gesture of disbelief. David was there
in an instant, his strong arms cradling me. Part of me wanted to push him
away, but I also craved the comfort of his presence.
Oh my beautiful Prince, you did return to me and you found your sleeping
beauty in the arms of another.
David pulled me closer and kissed my hair. He held my face between his
hands and raised my face to his, his hands were shaking. "We will find him,
Louis. We will explain what happened." There was a note of desperation in
his voice.
But somehow I did not think that Lestat would want to listen.

'How I love you, Morpheus, my soul has ached for you
You gave me comfort while life was so cruel
Your time is precious; I'll waste not what you share
Let's fall again now, as far as we would dare'

Inkubus Sukkubus
1997

The End