Spoilers & Disclaimers: Ummmm Everything in MW series just to be safe I guess....and don't own don't sue

Ok..popping my head back in here..its been awhile but I can never stay away from all the great writers here.









New Orleans. My city. Though it wasn't the city of my birth or my death, it would forever be home to me. Even all those lost years, when I tried so hard to avoid it, all the memories and the pain that went with it. I never truly left, or more truthfully it never left me. It was always there, in the back of my mind, a shadow lingering, tainting every thought, every perception of my own reality. A jealous lover who never lets go. And weak as I was in the ways of love I could resist her siren call no longer.
I walked down the streets of the quarter. Amazed as always at the wonder of this modern age. Feeding on the neon signs and abhorrent modern vernacular as greedily as I feed on blood. I crossed over to Rue Bourbon, in love with the level of depravity that was so proudly on display. Every possible answer to any form of human debauchery was found here. Shamelessly preying on the businessman and lost soul alike. Yes, My city. My home.

And what a time to be back. The shopkeepers had taken down the Christmas decorations from the trees in the their windows, replacing them with the gold purple and green baubles that signaled the beginning of carnival season. I could feel the pulse of excitement spreading through the city as old and young alike began preparations for their yearly celebration of sin. It was good to see that some things never change. Indeed, for all its glimmering modern façade the true heart of the city remained very much unchanged. Infact a large number of buildings were the same ones from centuries past. Looking a little worse for wear no doubt, but somehow all the more beautiful for it. Perhaps that is why I loved this city so much-it was just like us.

I was tempted to go into Lafitte's old Tavern, fully in the grips of my nostalgia. But before I could make up my mind to do so, I was already walking past. My feet setting me on an entirely different path, One that my conscious mind tried to ignore even though I knew that was the whole purpose of my visit home. I quickly cut across the nearest side street, doubling back a short distance until I reached my destination. St. Louis Cemetery.
Silently I leapt over the locked gate, making my way toward the back, where the older, less ornate tombs lay. Stopping when I had found the one I had been looking for. For a moment I simply stood there, taking it in with an air of reverence I didn't know I was capable of. Finally, shaking myself I knelt in the overgrown grass tracing the weathered engraving with my fingertips.
Louis de Pointe du Lac
1766-1794
Sighing I sat at the base pulling my legs up to rest my elbows on my knees. "Are you still with me beloved?" I whispered to the night wind. Of course I knew this whole little pilgrimage was pointless. Even if he were still underground I knew it would not be in a place as obvious as this. But I needed…something. Even if it was a lie. The illusion was somewhat comforting. After all it was still his. Even if it was empty. It was perhaps the only real thing of his that I have left. My beloved. My one true friend, my maker, nothing but a cold stone to grasp, unyielding under my fingers. How pathetically appropriate. Was there ever a time when he was anything but? Even when he first made me, his heart was too hard to ever yield to mine not fully at any rate.
I rested against the cold stone, listening to the night as I closed my eyes stretching my mind to its limit, continuing my endless search. Looking for the slightest glimpse of him among the mortals near by, or even one of us. But as always I turned up nothing but noise. I did have to smile when I heard my own voice on the airwaves. My first single to hit the radio. I listened to the slow pounding drum forcing my own heart to slow to its rhythm, soothed by the words of my own pen. Soon I would be in front of thousands of people, singing those exact same words. But in truth it was only for one.

"Have you heard my songs cher? Are you listening as I pour my heart out to you over every airwave in the world?" That of course was the plan. The whole reason I began 'The Vampire Lestat' I have heard thousands of old men and woman complain that this new wave of rock and roll music could wake the dead. If they weren't right I would be sorely disappointed.

…..That was the smash hit 'Surrender' from the runaway band 'The Vampire Lestat' phones have been ringing off the hook for that one-along with info on concert dates for the bands first tour. There's rumors going around that the tour will kick off in San Francisco as soon as this spring. Keep it tuned to 106.7 the End for all the latest info…..

I could just imagine each and every one of those delicious beauties calling the station, frantic for any small shred of information. Perhaps I would go by a radio station one of these nights and listen in. The fan mail I have been getting has given me quite a few hours of enjoyment.
The radio announcer had been right, it was definitely a runaway success. With me at the head, our little unknown band exploded overnight. I was making sure the media circus showed no signs of slowing. After all, if my name was on everyone's lips, Louis was bound to hear it. Come back to me.

************************************************************************

"Lestat! Lestat!" I sighed as Nicki's voice pierced the city street, chasing after me even as I scrambled through the crowds to avoid it. "Come back here you egotistical bastard-Lestat!" I covered my ears with my hands as I ducked down a back alley. If I heard my name on his lips one more time I was certain I would loose my mind. Months we had been in this city, Months! And still nothing pleases him. And now when I finally have my chance to realize my dream of acting he seems even more miserable than before. Finally I come home with enough coin to buy some decent bread and wine and he acts as though I have brought the plague into our rooms. Is it too much to ask for a simple smile every now and then? Most days I swear I wouldn't know him from a corpse if it weren't for that damnable violin. When he plays is the only time something close to happiness moves within him. And if I had to stay in the room one more moment listening to another damn requiem, one of us would not live to see morning.

"Lestat!" I sped up my pace, moving further through the dark maze of back alleys. Stopping only when I collided with a large object in front of me.

"Your friend seems to be in quite a dire state monsieur, do you not wish to answer his call?"
In a state of confusion it took me a moment to realize the object I had encountered was a man and it was he who had asked the question.

"My apologies monsieur, I was not looking where I was going. A grievous error on my part."

"Indeed." He remained silent for so long I felt the need to apologize again. "Do not concern yourself, no harm was done." He said finally. "Lestat is it?…….such an intriguing name. What does it mean?" I thought for a moment, no one had ever asked me that before.

"I have not the slightest clue I'm afraid. I never thought to ask." That seemed to amuse him greatly for some reason. As he moved closer the moonlight shifted to where I could make out his form better. He was still muted by shadows, but I could make out the sharp angles of his face and the fine cut of his clothing. Both marking him in a class far above those of us in this part of town.

"Forgive me." He said finally with what should have been a smile if there had been any merriment behind it. "My curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see the person who could possibly live up to such a name."

"Oh?" I said, my own curiosity now piqued by this mysterious stranger. "And am I what you expected monsieur?" I twirled around theatrically for good measure.

"Non." He said flatly. "I doubt any one could say that about you." This time his smile was genuine.

"Well you could always find out for yourself, there are much better places to do so than these back alleys." I lowered my voice in my most seductive purr. "Step into the light where I can see you." I said, moving to lean my body into his. My excitement grew as I thought of how angry Nicki would be when I told him of the rich one I sacked.
I closed my eyes, leaning in to kiss him, but my lips met with nothing but air. When I opened my eyes I was once again alone in the dark alley. I laughed, kicking at a rock as I walked back to the street. Another rich young fop eager for adventure only to realize they don't have the stomach for it once they actually get a chance to live a little.
Ah well, I could still make up a seedy little embellished tale for Nicki. Perhaps that will get some sort of rise from him. At least anger had some passion in it.

Part 2

I could never help but smile whenever I think on that first encounter. Blissfully unaware in my own arrogance, having no idea what stood before me. I had been so amused with myself in seducing him, it never crossed my mind how much this beautiful creature would seduce me.
I had often wondered over the years what was going through his mind that night. Of course I could never ask him such a question. And Louis being Louis never volunteered such information. As with almost everything else in our relationship, I was left with nothing but my own assumptions and silent wonderings. Our entire relationship had been an unspoken question neither of us wanted to answer. 'Had been'? It disturbed me beyond measure that I had so effortlessly began to think of him in the past tense, as though on some level I had already given up hope of his return. I stretched out my limbs, standing up finally. Making a conscious effort to shift my thoughts away from my bout of nostalgia, focusing instead on feeding. That of course was always a fruitless endeavor when I got myself into moods like these . I felt sorry for the first raven haired beauty I came across this night, his death would not be quick. Without a backward glance, I made my way out of the cemetery, back onto the lively streets of the city. Such a terrifyingly sharp double edge sword this curse of love.

*************************************************

"You are so unbelievably pathetic at times I honestly do not know whether to hit you or weep for such a sorry soul as yours."

Perhaps telling Nicki my little tale of the previous night was not as well planned out as I thought. I knew better than to hope for jealousy-not that that stopped me from hoping anyway-but I at least expected some spark of anger. Some passion left in that hollow shell of a soul he housed. What I hadn't expected was this pure contempt. Such utter….disgust. It was the tone he used when he addressed the rest of the world, but never me. Not even in our darkest moments , non never me. Until now.
"Tell me, are you pleased with yourself? Do you enjoy telling these little fables to the entire company? Does it make you more at ease that they can know you for the whore you are?" I stared at the small fire burning in the corner , obviously the only source of warmth left in this room. Wondering how it was that we had gotten to this place. How could love be replaced by such vile hatred that he could not now even bare to look at me. Surely if this is what love manifests itself into it is not worth it. But how could anyone endure it? It is truly terrifying is it not? That emotion so strong and at one point so pure can simply….fade away. To know that the human soul is so utterly fickle makes everything else seem rather pointless in a frighteningly empty way.

"I'm confused Nicki," I said despondently, my eyes still on the fire "Am I a liar or a whore? You accuse me of both but that contradicts itself. Are you saying you don't believe my tale of last night?" I looked up at him then smiling bitterly as I grabbed for the wine bottle by my side, wishing I had had time to get drunk before this argument had begun.

"How could I possibly." He snorted. "To think that anyone with any small amount of class would tolerate a tumble with the likes of you is laughable at best."

"You had class once upon a time Nicki, you seemed to have no qualms bedding me."

"Once upon a time.." He murmured. I threw the wine bottle across the room into the fire place.

"I have had my limit of your melancholia and disdain Nicki. It grows more tedious by the day. If you are so miserable here go crawling back to your father or kill yourself in some overly dramatic way that is your style and be done with it. I have a show to do." With that I turned my back, slamming the door as I made my way down the stairs. Part of me wishing he would heed my advice-not really caring which path-so I would not have to see him again. I was truly at my wits end, not knowing how to deal with one such as Nicki. His disposition was so inherently different from mine I was amazed we lasted together this long actually.
But even now, as I tried to hold onto my anger, my mind was already racing with the excitement of this evenings performance. The further I got from Nicki the more my anger cooled. Until finally I was caught up in the familiar whirlwind of back stage. All my cares forgotten in layers of grease paint and powder, brilliant candle light and the delightful murmur of anticipation from the waiting crowd.
Once the curtain came up there was no Nicki, no well dressed stranger, no Lestat even. Just Lelio, alive and free. Carrying out his lurid love affair with the audience. Life began and ended with the drawing of the curtain. Everything else was merely survival. Like a gut wrenching nightmare one has to live through to truly appreciate the dawn of a new day.
I strutted about the stage feeding off my fellow actors and audience alike. Ad libing an amusing aside here or there, as with every other night making my part larger than the night before much to the audiences delight. Oh but it was truly a glorious time to be alive.
It wasn't until the last act that I could place the peculiar feeling that had been growing inside of me since the performance began. I was being watched. An absurd thing for an actor to be shocked by of course, but I wasn't being watched as Lelio, I was being watched as Lestat. More than that I felt as though my mind was being shifted through, a nagging itch I couldn't quite reach. At one point when I exited the second to last scene I took the time to observe the audience from the side of the stage. Not that it did much good, the glowing flames all around the stage left the audience nothing but a dark shadow. It was for that reason that I almost missed the figure in the back, almost shrinking into the woodwork itself if he had been able to it would seem. I still couldn't see him clearly but there was no mistaking it was my hesitant stranger from the alley. I could not miss those cheekbones anywhere, and the curve of his thin slender nose was a dead give away.
A strange excitement coursed through me that caught me completely off guard. Was he here to see me? No of course not, the idea was completely absurd. What care would he have for someone he knew nothing of save a name. No doubt he was simply out again tonight for a taste of 'the other side' of life he ran away from so quickly last night. The fact that he picked the theatre I was in was merely a coincidence. He couldn't have known.
One of the dancers hit me sharply on the back of my head, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You missed your cue." She hissed, "Hurry" practically shoving me back on stage. I fell back into the scene effortlessly, sidestepping my blunder, but my eyes darted frantically into the audience once again, searching him out.
For the first time since I started acting, I was anxious for the performance to be over. I wanted to seek out this man whose face I had yet to see. It was an odd experience, this chase. Never before had I had to work harder than a smile to get any man or woman my eye caught. It was something that I had never had to think of before. This had been the first time anyone had ignored my invitation. There was something about that that made him utterly desirable.
I had trouble concentrating on my lines, and by the time the curtain had fallen, I had a new obsession. I hurried out of the swarm behind stage, pushing aside all the usual advances from some of the more friendly women, that I would normally indulge in. I made my way down the side aisle, looking for any sign of the my mystery man but even before I made my way to the back, I knew it was pointless. He was gone, disappeared as he did the night before. I went out into the street hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the crowd. It was frustrating to be sure, but I was laughing as I made my way backstage once again, wiping the grease paint from my face. I couldn't help it, the prospect of a chase played to an all to familiar chord within. After all, what was I If not a hunter.

Part 3

I pulled him to me, my makeshift lover. The pulsating glow from a nearby neon sign washing his face in a green glow. If it caught his eyes just right it was almost the same. I laughed as he struggled against me, so much like the games Louis would play how could I not love it. His struggling began to stop and he pulled closer to me with what little strength he had left as the swoon overtook us both.
I lay with him there in the alley spooning his lifeless body. My hands absently running through his hair. I lulled myself into delusion, helped along considerably by the large amount of narcotics now coursing through my veins. I leaned in to kiss his soft tresses, wanting to smell the familiar mix of jasmine and cedar but instead was jolted back to reality by the growing stench of death. Disgusted I got up on unsteady feet. The harsh narcotics the body beneath me had lived on inhibiting my movements greatly. Making my way back to the street, squinting from the intrusive light and noise, I did my best to make it back to my rooms at the Monteleone.

"Forgive me." I slurred absently as I ran into a waifish woman.

"Miserable drunk." She murmured shoving me away in annoyance.

************************************************************************

"Well so are you." Nicki laughed falling on the bed. I kicked at him, not in the mood to play nice after the argument we had earlier. I hate Nicki when he gets so sloppy drunk like this. His moods are intolerable enough without the aid of alcohol.

"Get off." I growled kicking him again in earnest.
"I pay half the rent Lestat, the bed is half mine."

"Really, well it has been quite a while since you have shown the keep that half." He continued to lay there, his laughter growing despite my rage. Finally it was overcome by a bout of hiccups, followed abruptly by a devout silence. I sighed, knowing I could do nothing at this point except wait the silence out.

"You can't leave Lestat-you can't leave me here." His voice was small, frighteningly childlike. He shifted to his stomach crawling up the bed to me with a look so painfully desperate and lost I couldn't help but be moved. "You know I didn't mean what I said." He said frantically. "You know how I am when I get in those moods."

"Hush cher." I said cradling him like a child. "It's forgotten already." I whispered.

"You can't leave Lestat-you can't. I would die without you. You know that don't you?" He looked up imploring me. "We are all we have right? You and me and damn the rest to hell remember?" His voice was reaching octaves that a castrato would be jealous of.

"Oui Nicki, you and me." I said reflexively. My own despair growing, realizing I would never be free. I lay back passively as he clumsily climbed his way out of his manic state back into the drunken lover. By the time he had managed to fumble with the lacing on his breaches and hike them down, he passed out.

I woke the next morning to the sound of Nicki throwing up in the chamber pot. Not an entirely unfamiliar event, yet still not my favorite way to greet the new day. When he was done, he simply flopped back down on the bed, passing out once again.

Getting up I quickly got myself dressed, leaving Nicki to sleep off last nights bender. I made my way out into the city counting the hours until tonight's performance. Last night at the tavern me and few of the others improvised a whole new scene that I think would fit perfectly in the second act. It was a little hard to remember word for word thanks to the amount of wine that accompanied the thought process, but the broad ideas were still there. I'm sure we could recreate it again. We just had to go over it with Renaud before the show. I just hoped my mysterious gentleman was not in the audience tonight. I had to have my utmost attention on the play. It wouldn't do to have another fumble like last night. Not when I had worked so hard to prove myself.

Still, as I made my way down the avenue I found myself focusing less and less on my lines and more on the dark haired stranger whos face I had yet to see. Maybe it was simply the thrill of the unknown. Or perhaps it was because things were going so sour between Nicki and I. Whatever the reason I simply could not get him off my mind. I knew I would have to seek him out. But the devil of it was I didn't even know where to begin. The two times I had seen him it was as if he appeared and disappeared out of nowhere. Leaving no trace. No trail to follow. I was good but I certainly couldn't produce something from nothing.
But then again perhaps he would stop by the theatre again and I would have another chance. Despite my earlier thoughts on the matter I couldn't help but wish for such an event. And this time he would not get away from me. As the day wore on, the normal excitement I usually felt before a performance was magnified by the anticipation of seeing 'him' once again. Him-now that just made it all the more alluring now didn't it. Not knowing his name. As though he were above such things, making it a blasphemy to even attempt a guess. But that is what happens when left alone to wait-my ridiculously romantic tendencies get away from me.

By the middle of the second act I had all but given up hope of seeing my angel of no name. Despair was good for my career though, throwing myself into character more so then ever before completely dwarfing the staple players in the company. Much to the delight of the audience I must say.

I couldn't stay in despair long though with the wild applause of the audience. Such naked adoration made even my illusive nymph take second place. My ears were still deaf from the rousing encore as I made my way back stage and into the alley to finally catch my breath. My heart was beating rapidly, trying to keep up with the wild high I was trying to sustain. I laughed wholeheartedly then, just for the simple joy of feeling it well up within me. Astounding as always by how lucky I was and praying I would never allow myself to get used to these post performance adrenaline rushes. I leaned over slightly holding the stitch in my side.

"You have been thinking about me much as of late." I heard the voice the same moment I saw the polished leather boots parallel to my own. Again no warning of approach, no steps clanking upon the cobblestone to announce his arrival. Just simply there.
"You, monsieur seem to have a high opinion of yourself." I said, quickly recovering and straightening to meet him properly. I couldn't help but notice that he did not phrase his greeting in the form of a question but a definitive conclusion. Well that was the rich for you, always with quite the high opinion of themselves. And I had yet to see him in the light to know whether or not such a lofty opinion was warranted. Though if his looks matched his voice it would be well deserved indeed.

"I suggest you curb your thoughts to the more mundane. You are only bringing danger upon yourself." He said this is such a tone of sincerity that I almost felt bad at the unintentional chortle that escaped my lips. Such a dandy he was. I've been acquainted with enough like him to know the type. I doubt he could be a danger to a rat if he tried let alone me.

"Oh is that so." I said feigning fear. "But what if I like danger." I lowered my voice, moving closer to him. "What if you are worth it." I leaned against him for the briefest of moments before he pulled back.

"I assure you I am not. Go back to your violinist, or better yet leave this city. You are making yourself too well known."

"Well that was the plan…..I have seen you in the theatre, did you like my performance?" Once again I tried to lean into him but he grabbed my arm, halting my movement.

"You have been warned, that is all I can do." With that he left, darting from the back of the alley onto the main street. His movements were swift, but this time I was ready for him. I ducked through another side alley, quickly glancing to see which way he was headed. Getting his general direction, I quickly cut thought the narrow twisting alleys, a shorter walk then the main road if you know your way around enough not to get lost in the maze and don't mind chancing a run in with a pickpocket. When I was sure I would be well enough ahead of him I made my way to the main road. But even with my shortcut, he still was ahead of me. I came out of the alley just in time to see him cross road, making his way back uptown. Running as fast as I could, I was determined to keep up with him, to find some clue from this creature who had become an obsession. It only took six more blocks for me to be rewarded. Ducking back behind a townhouse, I watched as he cautiously made his way through the gate of one of the houses on Rue St. Jacques. So finally I had an address, well at least that was one mystery solved. Now if only I could find out a name.


Part 4

I had to curb my initial instinct to run down the deserted cul-de-sac and bang at his door demanding entrance. Luckily I had just enough reason within me to realize such an intrusion at this hour could never be a welcome thing, no matter who the caller may be. Tomorrow afternoon would be soon enough to meet my mysterious elf. After all, if you call at the proper hour no man of any refinement can refuse an audience, it simply wasn't proper. And I was sure my illusive raven was nothing if not the proper gentleman.

Walking home in the wee hours of the morning, I was a man giddy on the knowledge that all was right with the world and it was only getting better. So delirious was I that I could find no room to bother over the fact that I had just come home to an empty room. Not a single ponderence did I give to Nicki as I flopped down on the lumpy mattress and closed my eyes with the anticipation of tomorrows finale of my well executed hunt.

Turning over did nothing to block out the suns intrusive rays, nor the growing noise from the street below. No wonder so many Parisians cling so desperately to their wine. It is the only way one can sleep through the morning. By midmorning I gave up entirely, abandoning the bed for a quick toilet and a change of clothes. I went out into the harsh morning light, retracing my steps of but a few precious hours before. When I found myself at his step, my restless anxiety was getting the better of me. I fidgeted with my cravat waiting for my knock to be answered. I looked around, never having really been in this section of Paris before. Doubtful I could pass myself off as someone who was domestic enough or rich enough to justify my presence. It was funny, it wasn't really anything I had ever thought about before. Even when I went to bed with hunger clawing at my stomach and no boots to cover my frostbit toes I never really thought of myself as poor. Or rather, I guess I never felt the stigma that went along with it. I had always managed to care for myself and my family, hunting for food when it was needed. Infact I had always found a certain pride in the fact that I existed by my wits alone, needing nothing more. But now, looking at the awkward fitting cloak I had to borrow from the theatre and the almost threadbare shirt I was wearing I became acutely self aware of my class.
For one insane minute I actually thought about simply leaving. Ridiculous really, when had I ever shrank away from anything in my life? Angry at myself for such weakness, I banged again on the door impatiently. Surely he had to have a house servant of some kind with lodgings such as this. Glancing quickly for witnesses, I made my way to the side of the house. Hanging with lowlifes had various educational benefits. With a rapid study of the window latch I was able to ascertain the best way to make my entrance with minimal damage to the exterior. With just a few swift movements I had learned from a young stage hand I was in a small study. Perhaps not the best way to make an entrance, but if confronted I could always feign innocence, claiming that one of the house servants let me in.
For all its outward appeal the inside of the town house was disappointingly barren. I noticed no Tapestries or paintings as I made my way out into the hallway. Infact, upon further inspection it would seem the study was the only room furnished beyond the barest necessity, at least on the ground floor. After a second leisurely circle of the empty rooms it became quite obvious that no one was home. No doubt my mysterious sprite was still asleep considering the late hour he had returned home. Though I was certain I could occupy myself until he woke up. I made my way back to the study, the only room that felt lived in. There were hundreds of books lining ornate shelves against the walls, along with dozens more piled on top of the desk, spilling onto the floor.
Quite the young scholar I mused, looking briefly at the spines of the upright books. I could only make out a few words here and there but from what I could tell he seemed to have a fairly wide selection spanning dozens of languages. There were even a few that didn't have letters at all, just curious criss cross lines.
I opened up one of the books I recognized as Latin, seeing if I had retained any of my unused teachings of the monks from so many years ago. Not surprisingly though, I could not make heads or tails of what was written on the page. I could write the Lords Prayer backward and forward but beyond that I was at a loss. I closed the book angrily, not liking the emotions it evoked. Misery was so much more unobtrusive when it didn't have the burden of memory to fight against. It made it easier to deal with mediocrity when you didn't have to remember that once you had the chance to be better. Yes, so much easier to live in this world when you didn't have to recall how happily you had communed with the next.
It had been so long since I had thought about my days in the monastery. It was almost embarrassing to remember how eager I had been, how naïve. Perfectly content with serving God and man. Until of course my brothers came, leaving me no hope of rising above the role of illiterate clown. Shown nothing but contempt or pity. Was it any wonder I had clung to Nicki for dear life? The only way I could ever hope to please my father was to become the failure he always thought I was. And the only thing worse that having a son run off to become an actor is having one who openly seduced the son of one of the most prominent merchants in the village. So I had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations of me.
I made my way over to his desk hoping to spy some glimmer of information about him. But the drawers were locked. The only thing on top of the desk were more books and a tattered old journal. I sat in the chair, absently leafing through it, enjoying the long elegant strokes of his hand. I stopped on the last few pages recognizing my own name amidst his musings.

"You should not have read that." A hand from behind me reached out to snatch the journal. I turned around to defend myself but all the words died on my lips as I gazed upon my host for the first time. The sun had gone down, but between the candle I had lit and the moon shining in through the windows his features were fully illuminated. Beautiful did not describe this creature. This was the one time where reality had actually exceeded my own imagination. His hair was an entity unto itself, moving with a life of its own. And his eyes, I felt as if I was drowning in his eyes. A shade of green that god himself could not recreate. So expressive…so sad. It was deafening, the emotion that came screaming from them.

"How did you get in here?" He hissed, shaking me from my study of him "…stop staring at me." He said curtly, his irritation obviously growing as he blew out the candle casting himself in shadows once again.
"One of your servants let me in, told me I could wait for you in here."

"Well they must have been quite the hospitable sort seeing as how I have no one employed on these premises." He said dryly. " A mans home is his sanctuary, I don't take kindly to mine being invaded monsieur."

"Isn't a sanctuary always open for those who wish to worship?" I asked trying to taunt him out of his anger. I hadn't come this far merely to be lectured.

"What you read…." He faltered trying to collect his thoughts.

"Was total rubbish considering the boy can't read anything save his own name. Pathetic isn't it?" I spun around to see a young boy standing in the doorway.

"Who the hell are you?" I shouted. I could feel the heat rising up my neck into my face, ashamed that such a failing had been revealed.

"I would watch your tone boy. I am someone who didn't have to break a window to gain entrance." He moved along side the taller one in a strangely feline way. Though it did not escape my attention that the advance was not at all welcome. "You are out of your league little boy. " he smiled in such a predatory manner that all the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was beginning to feel the first stirrings of fear build up within me.

Not Human

Such an insane thought, but undeniable. Their look, their stance, it was just like the wolves I had faced down in the mountains.

"My Louis is above common street urchins, he has made that clear on several occasions. Is that not so cher?" For the first time his gaze left mine, seeking out Louis' poignantly.

"Leave him alone Armand he is an innocent."

Well names all around then. How convenient for me. Louis. It suited him. Nobility.

"No such creature mon cher." He turned his gaze back to me, wedging a sharp blade of ice in my spine.

"I have obviously come at a bad time, forgive me. Perhaps I can call at a more convenient time." I backed down for the first time, ripping my gaze from Armand and turning my attention back to Louis.

"Nonsense." Armand said stepping in front of the desk. "After all the trouble you have taken to break in it would be silly to leave so soon. Especially without saying all those pretty words you have prepared for cher Louis here." He smiled at me mockingly.

"Stop this Armand." Louis hissed.

"Oh come now, I do enjoy a good show. This one here is quite the buffoon from what I have heard. Strutting around that dingy little theatre like a stuffed peacock."

It had been quite a while since I had engaged in a quality bout of fist to cuffs. But I was confident enough that I didn't even think twice as I jumped up from the desk, charging this infuriating little imp. Before I could make contact, I found my fist in a cold vice grip.

"This is not a fight you wish to pursue." Louis said solemnly, that constant look of pain etched deeper in the fine features of his face.

"Why not? He's just a boy." I said angrily. The low growl from behind me was the only warning I got as nails sharp as claws dug into my neck and forearm. But Louis' hand never left mine and he pulled me back, yelling at Armand in a language I didn't understand.

"Run!" he shoved me behind him as he faced down Armand. "Walk away now while you still can. And do not seek me out again." Guided by a compulsion I knew wasn't my own, I ran through the front door, gaining as much distance as I could.

Part 5

I ran blindly through the alleys with no care for where I was going. My mind solely on where I was getting away from. My lungs burned, pushed far beyond their limitations and my legs screamed in protest as I continued to pump them with no sign of ceasing.

I tried to resist the urge to look behind me, ignoring that growing itch in the back of my mind. Finally I had to glance back to see if that laughing in my head was real or imaginary. The lack of focus cost me though, and I found myself tripping, falling head first into a puddle of something vile.

"Well now that is just a pathetic sight. …..Not quite the brave killer of wolves now are you?" I looked up once again to be confronted by the one Louis had called Armand.
"Mon cher Louis interrupted us earlier, but that won't happen again. Infact even as we speak he believes me to be in the solitude of my chambers reflecting and chastising myself on what a naughty little boy I have been." He laughed softly, apparently quite amused with himself. "He is such a trusting soul my Louis." The stress on 'my' did not escape my notice. Life and death situations are always second fiddle to the male ego.

"Come to me….." he said, his voice so soft it had to compete with the wind to be heard. He reached out his hand to me and suddenly it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to simply reach out and obey. Some far off portion of my mind was trying to hold onto the panic I had felt only moments earlier. For some reason that was important. There was something wrong with this whole situation, but that didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered except loosing myself in those large brown eyes, knowing everything I could ever ask for or need was reflected in them.

How I could have thought him a mere boy I do not know, for now it was obvious he was so much more. Almost god like in stature. Arms that offered shelter, security….love. I knew I would want for nothing in those arms. My body felt physical pain from the lack of his embrace. My body moved of its own accord, needing to get as close to his as possible.

"I’m not quite that trusting Armand." Slowly, recognition came, I remembered Louis' voice as he pulled me away from Armand shaking me until my senses returned and I was in possession of my full faculties. "I have been in your company far too long to know the value of such a word any longer." Louis bit out fiercely. He still had his hand firmly on my arm but his full attention was on Armand.

"And here I thought all my lessons were falling on deaf ears." He said practically drowning in merriment.

" I said to leave this one alone." Louis raged on, his anger fueled by Armand's amusement.

"You say many things little fledgling, that does not mean I listen. You do pour a hansom cup young one but do not overestimate the power of a pretty face."

"Enough Armand. This ends, here and now—All of it." It was becoming increasingly apparent that I was less and less crucial to whatever this little equation was. I couldn't decide whether I was relieved by this or rather insulted so I simply remained quiet, listening to them bicker. I felt for all the world like a six year old when I would walk in on my mother and father fighting.

"So young…." Armand mused, moving closer to Louis, running his fingers down the side of his face, until they rested at the base of his throat. "This never ends." He whispered. "This little obsession of yours changes nothing. Except perhaps a few added years of self flagellation on your part." He smirked, his attention turning toward me once again.

"You know it really is a pity. I was expecting more of a challenge from you." He made a slight movement with his hand and suddenly there was a crowd surrounding us, filthy and dressed in nothing more than tattered rags.
"Come children, once again you have to clean up after one of your brothers mistakes." There was a blur of movement and suddenly I found myself on the ground. Hands as sharp as claws digging into my flesh, holding me down. Compeltely helpless and out numbered I could do nothing but pray for a quick death. In my final moments of consciousness I tried to seek out Louis for one last glimpse. It was in vain however, for I was completely ensconced by this horrid decaying flesh.


**********************************************


I was aware of my renewed consciousness long before I was able to process the various stimuli regarding my surroundings. Slowly, the cold hardness of the floor crept into my back. And the white noise that seemed out of reach for so long became distinguishable as individual voices. Most importantly the knowledge I was still alive took hold of my brain, making all the other inconveniences minor obstacles at best.

I tried to assess the damage as best I could without actually moving my body. Even moving my head to the side to better see my surroundings caused a violent spasm throughout my body. Not to mention an acute bout of dizziness. I lay perfectly still, listening to the screams and chants going on somewhere not too far off.

I had no way of knowing how long I lay there unattended. I was sure I had slipped in and out of consciousness when the pain had become overwhelming. Each time I woke was slightly worse than before. Time adding its own wounds to my already battered body. My tongue felt as though it grew five times its normal size, having become permanently stuck to the roof of my mouth.

Over time my body's own fundamental needs overshadowed ever the most severe of the physical abuse that had been inflicted earlier. I was beginning to rethink my whole opinion on being alive. Death would definitely have been a kinder fate.

"Come now , you did not think I would let you off as easy as all that." Armand's slender frame came into focus, as though made up of the shadows themselves. "You have not even gotten a taste of the hell I have in store for you my little lamb." He knelt beside me, his hand running through my hair, brushing the tangles back from my face.

"Where is Louis?" I spat out hoarsely after four tries, wishing I had the strength to move away from his touch.

"Louis is none of your concern. He never has been. If you had the intelligence to realize that sooner you would not find yourself in this position now."

"What do you want?" I said angrily.

"Oh I want many many things. But at the moment your suffering is enough to appease me." He smiled warmly at me, as though we were sharing a bottle of wine and polite conversation at the corner café.
"Do you think you deserve one such as Louis when you can not even handle a drunken minstrel? Passing him aside when someone new catches your eye. One such as you does not understand the concept of love. Lust, selfish greed-all the base emotions of the human condition-these are all your heart can hold. You do not have the capacity for love- to give or receive. You are much to shallow and vain for such emotion. Infact I suppose I should simply kill you now and be done with it. But you have already caused irreparable harm. You have taken someone dear to me and I feel the need to respond in kind. "


TBC....