THE BLOOD OF WINTER
by JoAnne Soper-Cook, 1994
jsoperco@morgan.ucs.mun.ca


     The trip through the mountains was a journey into wonder:
tall, richly-green pines studded with jewels of fresh snow, 
overhung by the towering peaks capped with clouds.  The moonlight
that spilled cool silver over the valley sparked bright points of
light on the fresh snow.  Set deeply into the face of the velvet
sky were diamond stars, cold hard pinpricks.  The air was chilly,
and took the breath away quite like a good champagne.
     "We will be there soon, Louis--I know you must be getting
hungry by now."  The being at the wheel of the vehicle was an
incongruous figure; beautiful and male, an otherworldly creature. 
He had thick, wavy dark blond hair and eyes that were coldly
blue, accented with tiny golden flecks.  He was as pale as death,
almost luminescent in the wan moonlight spilling into the valley,
except for his wide, sensuous mouth that held a hint of some
dimly-remembered red.  He addressed another of his kind, seated
beside him in the vehicle, another beautiful male, this one with
long hair of a rich, dark brown and eyes of unearthly green.
     The green-eyed one stirred out of some private reverie and
turned slightly sideways to gaze an assessment at the driver.  "I
assure you, if anyone is hungry, it is you."  One pale, long-
fingered hand came up to brush a strand of thick dark hair out of
his eyes, and the reflected moonlight danced for a moment there. 
Louis was gorgeous, as pale as the other, and his dark hair and
green eyes made pleasant contrast to the golden luminosity of the
other male.
     The blond laughed richly in a baritone.  "Ah, Louis---
perhaps we can feast on each other!"  He cast a look at his
companion, his startlingly white teeth flashing briefly against
his full lower lip.  He felt a familiar, exquisitely-pleasant tug
in his groin as he considered the thought.
     "Do you want nourishment or sex? Hmmmm?"  Louis grinned and
pointed out the window.  "There it is!"
     The blond brought the vehicle ( a Jeep ) to a halt in front
of the imposing facade of a 12th-century villa, stopping in a
shower of powdery snow.  He turned off the engine and opened his
door to the breathtaking chill of the night.  His boots squeaked
as he moved out into the road, going to unlock the back of the
vehicle where the luggage was.
     Louis turned in his seat,  his emerald gaze focussing on the
occupant of the back seat.  He smiled reflexively, an expression
that brought surprising warmth to his wan complexion, and shook
her gently.  "Come, Rhiannon---we've arrived."
     The woman stirred, waking up slowly from under a pile of
thick blankets.  She yawned hugely, covering her mouth politely
with one hand. "What?" she asked, noticing that Louis was still
watching her. 
     "I like the way you wake up--very pretty."  
     "Oh, stop. You're beginning to sound like him."  Rhiannon
pushed aside the heavy blankets and ran a hand through her long,
wavy red hair.  Thick and shiny, like burnished copper, it hung
unbound to her waist, although tonight it was restrained with a
silver buckle.  She pulled her cold gloves on over stiff hands
and clambered out of the vehicle, waving aside Louis's offer of
assistence.
     The other male appeared again, grinned hugely when he saw
her.  If the incredibly white eye teeth in his wide, pouty mouth
seemed rather...feral...it could have been put down to the
imagination, or a trick of the pale moonlight.  He picked up
another of the suitcases from the back and came around to where
she was.  "How do you like my ancestral home?"  He indicated the
imposing stone building with a shrug of his slender, elegant
shoulder.
     "Lestat---it's gorgeous," Rhiannon breathed.  The moonlight
seemed to play off the weathered old stone, the building itself
appeared to have risen out of the winter mists.
     "We should get inside," Louis's hand was gentle on the small
of her back, the heat of his palm burning through to her skin. 
Rhiannon knew enough now to recognise the source of that
preternatural fire, but it still aroused a hot tightness between
her thighs. 
If only.... Still, it was better not to even consider such
things.  She allowed him to usher her into the villa.
     Lestat's home was as beautiful inside as it had appeared
from the exterior.  He showed them into the foyer, which was
restored to its 12th-century condition, with colorful frescoes
adorning the walls and ceiling.  The mouldings and panellings
were oak, stained dark as blood, and the entrance into the main
hall was guarded with two gigantic oak doors, into which was set
a pair of brass rings.  "Please--go inside, both of you. I'll
lock up the car."  He laid down the suitcases and disappeared out
the door.
     Louis took up the cases and they went in through the
enormous old doors.  What was revealed to her behind those doors
was of breathtaking beauty: an ancient formal hall with vaulted
ceilings painted in medieval scenes, precious works of art whose
value could never be calculated.  The fireplace was massive,
easily the size of a closet, and by some mysterious means, a fire
had contrived to spring up within, cheerfully devouring a thick
log.  The windows were hung with rich velvet draperies, the
couches were tapestry, rich and sumptuous, with silken pillows
and heavy throw blankets.  Rather than being cold and drafty as
Rhiannon had supposed, the room was deliciously warm and full of
inviting touches, right down to the bearskin rug on the floor
before the fire.  Rhiannon bent to run her fingers gratefully
through the thick fur, feeling the silky hairs tugging at her
skin.  Her other, special senses received resonances of things
that had occured in this room, her mind filled with a sudden  
vision of Louis and Lestat on that very rug, writhing blissfully
together in front of the fire:  their muscular young bodies
bathed in a faint sheen of sweat, two gorgeous young gods. A
bubble of latent desire rose deliciously inside of her, and she
quickly got up from the rug lest Louis discern her thoughts, as
he so often did.
     It was just as well, for Lestat was in the room, shrugging
out of his heavy coat and tossing it carelessly onto a leather
settee near the heavy double doors.  He grinned at Rhiannon
again, the motion shifting the beautiful muscles of his face. 
"I'm glad you like my home, my dear--of course, Louis has been
here before, haven't you, Louis?"  Lestat cast a look in Louis's
direction, a leer.  Rhiannon's mind filled with more pictures: 
Lestat surprising Louis on the stairs late one night, shoving him
back against the wall then stepping into the movement and
stopping Louis's protests with a deep, sensuous kiss, his
gorgeous mouth tugging, his long-fingered hands coming up to
clutch Louis's bare shoulders.  Rhiannon shivered, was aware that
both men were looking at her oddly.  Another brief look passed
between them, a question hovered unasked, and then Louis sighed. 
"I shall have to go out soon, Lestat."  He swallowed hard, the
muscles of his throat rippling.
     "I will go with you. Rhiannon, you will be all right here
for a couple of hours, hmmm?"  Lestat stepped close to her,
moving so quickly that Rhiannon, as usual, hardly saw it.  His
mouth was at her ear, the feral teeth hovering over her throat. 
"Please don't wait up, love."  His lips brushed the tender flesh
of her throat, fastening there for a mere fraction of a second,
but imparting such keen pleasure that Rhiannon gasped softly. 
Lestat motioned to Louis. "Come, Louis. It is time for the hunt." 
     Rhiannon watched the two of them pass through the double
doors and out into the night, her pleasure at seeing their
unearthly beauty finally settling into a distinct throb between
her thighs.  She sighed in resignation, went and poked the fire
up, and pulled a book from Lestat's library.  Before long, she
was asleep on one of the fine tapestried couches, wrapped in a
heavy blanket.

     Lestat found his first victim quickly: a young woman leaving
the local public house after her shift.  He whipped her body
around so that she was in front of him, seeing nothing, and sank
his sharp, white teeth gratefully into her from behind.  The
tender flesh of her soft neck yielded easily as the hot, salty
blood spilled over his tongue.  He held her long hair out of the
way with one hand while his sensuous mouth applied constant
pressure to her vein.  The pleasure took him as it always did:
arising out of the victim's own ecstasy and slicing through him
as keen as pain.  He dimly heard the woman whimpering as he held
her soft, warm flesh to his own hard body.  As always, he was
careful to take only what he needed, never draining his victims
to the point of death.  Likely the woman would never remember
what had happened to her anyway, would experience the intense
pleasure of his feasting on her life's blood only in erotic
dreams or vague, wishful memories.  He finished with her and
turned her around to face him, for some reason needing to see
her.  Her soft blue eyes focussed on him sleepily; not really
registering that he was there at all.  Hmmm....so beautiful.  He
bent and closed his hot, moist mouth around hers, slipping his
questing tongue between her lips.  Very nice.  He released her
gently and let her go on her way, his body tingling with the
remembered pleasure his skilled mouth had pulled from her being. 
He watched her go along the street, her figure diminishing in the
dim lights of the streetlamps. A smile tugged at the corners of
his wide mouth as one hand slipped down to brush his crotch
wistfully, before Lestat turned and headed towards the tavern
where he had arranged to meet Louis.

     Like Lestat, Louis had no trouble finding his evening's
prey, seeing as how the sleepy French village was suffused with a
recent influx of Christmas tourists.  He had lured a beautiful
young boy (Greek or Italian, Louis thought) over onto his
banquette at the tavern and had only to lean over and nip, ever-
so-gently at the boy's tanned, muscled throat.  Louis's groan of
pleasure went unheard in the crowded bar, and to onlookers it
appeared as if he were merely whispering in the boy's ear; two
men having a protracted conversation in the tavern's noisy
environment.  
     But the boy, frightened perhaps, struggled so that Louis had
to clamp one arm around the youth's chest to hold him still while
he bent his sleek, dark head to the young man's throat.  The boy
thrashed futilely for a moment and Louis drew back slightly, his
full mouth wet with the boy's blood, and gazed into the boy's
eyes,  a caressing gesture.  "Che bella," Louis murmured, his
voice a velvet whisper, and as if by magic the boy's head fell
back, baring his throat to Louis's mouth.  
     A shiver went through both of them when Louis pressed his
lips against the small, wet gash he had made in the carotid
artery, and as his sensuous, elegant lips pulled at the wound,
sucking rhythmically, one of his long-fingered hands went to the
rising mound in the boy's pants, rubbed his erection for a
moment, listening in satisfaction to the youth's moan.  Louis
unzipped the trousers deftly, one hand delving inside to wrap
around the youth's rigid cock, stroking the silky flesh.  The
boy's body bucked against Louis's tall, solid frame, and one long
leg wrapped around Louis's where they touched under the table. 
They were pressed together now, but nobody in the tavern seemed
to notice, and the noises of conversation, laughter, and drunken
shouting drowned out the boy's whimpering sounds of pleasure. 
Louis took a last long pull at the wound as the youth's taut
testicles twitched in his hand and a sticky stream erupted from
the boy's rigid cock.  He wrapped his arms around Louis as Louis
lifted his mouth from the boy's throat and pressed it against his
lips, his tongue flicking teasingly into the boy's mouth, both
his long-fingered hands holding the youth's face.  Louis gifted
the boy with a throat-deep kiss and then slipped out of the boy's
embrace and the banquette seat.  He had detected a change in the
immediate atmosphere, a psychic ripple in the environment of the
tavern, and knew that Lestat had arrived.  
     Louis discreetly wiped his lips on his handkerchief and followed the
movement in the crowd to where he discerned that Lestat was.  His friend's
dark blond head was lowered, but when Lestat saw Louis, his sensuous lower
lip curved in Lestat's characteristically sly grin.  Louis, his own sexual
needs unsatisfied from his encounter with the beautiful Italian boy, felt
his own cock harden when his gaze rested on Lestat's luminous blond
gorgeousness, his full mouth, the brittle points of light in his blue
eyes.  He allowed Lestat to draw him out of the tavern and into the
silent, snow-dusted street.  Lestat had worn the same heavy coat he'd
sported on their trip up here, but now it was unbuttoned at the throat,
revealing the taut curve of Lestat's pale throat, the golden hairs that
Louis knew covered his muscled chest.  Louis, flushed with sudden desire,
grabbed Lestat and covered his mouth with his own. 
     As usual, Lestat returned the caress, his mocking mouth
sliding skilfully over Louis's own, both of his hands pressing
against the other man's chest.  Louis pressed his mouth hard
against Lestat's full lips, his nose buried deep in Lestat's
cheek, his hands sliding down to grasp and squeeze Lestat's hard
buttocks.  "God, I want you," Louis whispered hotly, when
Lestat's mouth left his.  "I want to fuck you right here and
now,"  He could say nothing more as Lestat's hot, opened mouth
pressed insistently against his, the other vampire's tongue
sliding into his mouth.  Louis could taste the blood of Lestat's
recent prey upon his mouth, and this made the kiss more exciting
than ever.
     "I saw you dallying with that beautiful boy,"  Lestat
whispered, gazing hungrily at Louis, at his magical, emerald
eyes, his straight nose, his full-lipped, sensual mouth.  God,
but Louis was beautiful!  "Did you enjoy him?"
     Louis groaned aloud as Lestat's hot lips fastened to a
sensitive spot on the long column of his throat.  He felt those
same lips suck sharply at his skin, but Lestat didn't draw
blood....that was for later, and the middle of a street, no
matter how deserted, was no place for an overt display of erotic
pleasures between the two men.  "Not as much as I enjoy you,
Lestat."  As he felt Lestat begin to pull away from him, Louis
deftly reached down and stroked the bulge in Lestat's corduoroy
trousers.  Judging by the size of his erection, Lestat's own
desire was unsatisfied.  So his prey had been only for
nourishment, not sex....
     For some reason, this knowledge made Louis indescribably
horny and he hurried Lestat through the silent streets of the
sleeping village, eager to return to the villa.
     They slipped into the villa, careful not to awaken Rhiannon,
who being mortal, would surely be asleep by now.  Louis followed
Lestat up the stairs to the tower room where Lestat would sleep
later, when the sun rose.  He watched hungrily as Lestat skinned
out of his heavy coat, dropped his boots beside the double,
canopied box-bed, carved out of a single trunk of oak and stained
as dark as rich, red blood.  Lestat crossed to where Louis was
and wrenched Louis's wool overcoat off his shoulders, letting the
fine fabric shiver to the floor.  The air in the tower was cool,
and all the fine hairs along the backs of Louis's arms stood up. 
Lestat sensed this and with a gesture, summoned a fire in the
grate.  He turned his attention back to Louis and his saucy blue
eyes were lit with an inner fire.  Lestat ran his palms down
Louis's shirtsleeves, turned the other vampire's wrists up to his
mouth and traced a hot, wet path with his tongue.  He drew one of
Louis's fingers (the index finger) deep into the inside of his
hot, wet mouth and sucked on it.  Louis whimpered, "Lestat, don't
tease me...."  He caught the back of Lestat's dark-blond head in
his hand and pressed his opened mouth to Lestat's, delving into
him with frank desire.  Lust raced along his skin, up his spine,
electrified the roots of his hair.  It had always been like this
for Louis and Lestat: first, the necessity of the hunt, for
nourishment and survival; then, they passed the night pleasuring
each other, bestowing intimate joy.  
     Lestat unbuttoned Louis's shirt and unzipped his trousers.
Louis wore no underwear, and Lestat knelt and pressed his mouth
against Louis's flat stomach,  conscious of the hard bulge just
below.  Louis's cock leapt out at him as Lestat freed him from
the confining fabric of his trousers and Louis slid under the
heavy eiderdown of Lestat's bed.  He watched with approval as
Lestat stripped in the chilly air of the tower room, slipped his
silk shirt off strong shoulders, unzipped corduoroy trousers and
let them slide down to the floor.  Louis moaned softly when
Lestat's naked, gorgeous form was revealed to his eager gaze. 
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, reaching up to welcome
Lestat into the bed, his hands twined in that thick, dark-blond
hair as Lestat lowered himself next to Louis and covered them
both up.
     Louis let Lestat take the lead tonight, rolling onto his
back, his long, lean legs spread under the covers as Lestat
leaned over him, their bodies pressed together.  "Do you love
me?" Lestat whispered, as he bent and nipped Louis's earlobe
between his strong, white teeth.
     "Yes."  Louis swallowed, trembling.
     "Do you want to fuck me?"  Lestat's hot, eager mouth moved
to the side of Louis's throat, his tongue flicking against the
skin.  
     Louis groaned.  "Mmmmmm.....yes."  He raised one hand to
cradle the back of Lestat's head against him, savoring the sweet
curve of Lestat's neck.  A deep, throbbing lust had begun to beat
under Louis's skin, as Lestat moved, rubbing against him.  Louis
could feel Lestat's erect cock pressing against his thigh, wanted
Lestat to hurry up, this was such an exquisite torture....  He
cried out, "Ah!" when Lestat's sharp teeth closed around a fold
of skin on his neck, digging deeply into his flesh, fastening
onto him in that sweet familiar way.  Each time, Louis was
reminded of the first time Lestat had fastened his hot lips on
him, had initiated Louis into these diabolical pleasures.  The
night that Lestat had made Louis a vampire, Louis had thought he
would die of ecstasy, and he relived it each time
they came together like this, which was often.
     Louis turned his head in Lestat's embrace and sank his teeth
into his lover's neck, reveling in the sweet, rich blood that
gushed over his teeth and into his mouth.  Lestat's body
shuddered in his grasp as Louis sucked harder and harder.  The
thrumming of Lestat's heart was loud in his own ears as Louis's
beautiful mouth tugged at his skin, drawing him into that flaming
pleasure, that everlasting lust.  Lestat, aroused ever since his
encounter with the girl outside the tavern, erupted in orgasm,
pressing Louis's delicious body into the sheets as his cock
released a hot stream and a streak of delight sliced through him. 
He cried out, again and again, uncaring if anyone heard him, and
then Louis was coming too, his hot, sticky cum bathing both of
them as they clutched each other, sharing the pleasure they'd
both created.  Louis's mouth fastened once more on the tiny gash
in Lestat's neck and he sucked hard, as Lestat's hard, muscular
body twitched one last time, a dribble of cum leaking out onto
Louis's flat stomach.  Lestat kissed Louis deeply, delving into
his mouth with that incredible tongue,  holding him close as the
last of their lust ebbed and finally faded away.
     "I love you," Louis said, some time later.
     "Mmmmm...." Lestat trailed a languid hand across Louis's
chest.  "I love you, too."  He opened his mouth to receive
Louis's kiss and for a long moment there was silence in the tower
room.  Then Louis released him and Lestat sighed.  "It's getting
light outside."
     "We should sleep."  Louis traced Lestat's sculpted jawline. 
"You know where I'll be."
     "Mmmmm..." Lestat yawned as Louis gathered his clothes and
slipped out of the room, and by the time the sun had climbed over
the hills, he was safely asleep.

     Rhiannon, knowing that Louis and Lestat would be asleep for
most of the day, contented herself with exploring the grounds of
the huge estate.  She climbed one of the low foothills with a
thermos of coffee and took some photos of the Christmas-card
village from that vantage point.  The chilly air was refreshing,
and the watery sunlight, although holding no warmth, cheered her. 
     By the time she had finished taking photos and negotiated
the path down to the villa, Louis had awakened and was drinking
coffee in the kitchen.  Rhiannon hung up her coat and went to
join him.  She poured herself a cup of the steaming brew and
sipped it gratefully, looking at Louis over the rim.  As usual,
Louis looked gorgeous:  he had showered and was dressed in casual
cotton trousers and a dark green knitted sweater that was the
exact shade of his eyes.  His sensuous, full-lipped mouth curved
into a grin as he greeted her.
     "How was your walk? Did you get a good view of the village?" 
     "Oh, yes, it was marvelous! The air is cold but it's a
gorgeous evening."
     Louis brushed her rosy cheek with the back of his hand.
"This air is good for you--you look very beautiful."
     Rhiannon, embarrassed by his frank appreciation, pulled
away.  "We should awaken Lestat---I thought he said we were going
to tour the village tonight."
     Louis nodded, placed his coffee cup into the sink.  "You're
right."  He followed Rhiannon up to the tower room.
     Lestat was still asleep, his form illuminated by the dying
rays of sunset that leaked into the room.  He slept naked, as
Louis himself did, and his head was turned to the side, his
sculpted features half in light, half in shadow.  His forehead
was creased. Louis decided he was probably dreaming.
     Rhiannon gazed at Lestat's sleeping form for a long moment. 
So gorgeous, she thought.
     "Isn't he beautiful?" Louis whispered.  "He's like a god." 
He drifted to the side of the bed and laid his hand on Lestat's
naked shoulder.  "Lestat," he said quietly, and shook him
slightly. "It's dark--time to get up."
     "Mmmmmm......"  Lestat murmured and shifted a little in the
bed.  Rhiannon nearly groaned aloud. God, he was beautiful!  "In
a minute."  He rolled onto his side and hugged the spare pillow,
and the blankets that had covered him slipped down, revealing the
creamy curve of his naked back,  the finely-etched spine.  She
wondered if Louis could hear her thoughts....
     "You want him, too, don't you?"  The tall, green-eyed
vampire smiled at her, the motion lifting the corners of his wide
mouth.  But it was not a cruel smile--Louis was her friend.
     Rhiannon shifted her gaze from Lestat to Louis and returned
his smile with a wistful grin of her own.  "I do," she whispered.
     Louis's hand brushed her cheek softly, and he was standing
in front of her, his tall frame blocking out the last, dying rays
of sunset.  "And me? How do you feel about me?"  His voice was a
velvet whisper, a growl soaked in sex.
     "I want you, too."  Rhiannon's mouth opened as Louis leaned
forward and kissed her, his lips hot, his tongue eager.  She ran
her hands up his arms, her touch registering the soft feel of his
cashmere sweater and the heat of his throbbing life beneath. 
Louis deepened the kiss, and a little groan escaped him as he
pressed the full length of himself against her, crushed her to
him.  He kissed her like Rhiannon had seen him kiss Lestat: hard,
insistent, hungry.  She could smell the intoxicating scent of his
cologne, the heated flush of his aroused skin.  God, a kiss could
do so much! Already she was wet with anticipation.
     A motion, another figure slipped from the bed, shrugging
into a velvet robe and Louis let her go.  Lestat was fully awake
now, and there was a sardonic smile on his lips as he knotted the
belt of his robe thoughtfully.  His glance moved from Louis to
Rhiannon and back again.  "Very nicely done," he murmured, and
shifted position, moving towards them.  He deftly cupped Louis's
handsome face in his hand and kissed him, his tongue flicking
teasingly, then just as quickly turned to Rhiannon and pressed
his hot, opened mouth to hers in a kiss that started a throbbing
pulse beating, low in her belly.  Then he stepped away and
regarded them both.  "I'll be in the shower."
     Louis watched Lestat go with a definite, sharp-edged hunger
in his gaze, an emotion that was mirrored by Rhiannon.  Her mind
was filled with yet another of her concuspient visions:  Lestat
and Louis arguing heatedly in this room, Lestat's face twisted in
rage while Louis shouted back at him then crossed to where Lestat
was and seized him, eager fingers clutching, hot mouth grasping. 
She swallowed a sigh, turned to Louis.  "Do you mind if I get
something to eat before we go out?" She patted her stomach,
grinned ruefully.  "It's been a long time since lunch."
     Louis smiled.  "You ought to have Lestat cook something for
you."
     Rhiannon followed him from the tower room and down the
stairs, her mind noting the comely flexing of his muscled
buttocks as he moved ahead of her.  "Lestat cooks?" she asked.
     Louis flipped on the light as he and Rhiannon entered the
kitchen.  "Yes, to perfection."  He reached under the counter,
retrieved a bottle of red wine, held it up to look at the label,
then again at her. "That surprises you."
     "No--yes, it does! It surprises me!"  Rhiannon traced an old
scar in the weathered countertop with her fingernail.  "Do you--
does he--"
     "Eat?"  Louis deftly uncorked the bottle of wine with a
twist of his elegant hands.  "Yes, from time to time. It isn't
our main source of nutrition....but knowing me as long as you
have, you already know that."
     This was certainly true.  Rhiannon had no illusions as
to Louis's true nature--from the very moment that she'd met him
she'd known he was...different, other.  She didn't know if Louis
suspected this knowledge came from her use of The Gift, but it
did.  Still, Louis was her friend, and she loved him, and it
didn't bother her that he was what he was.  "What sorts of things
does he cook?"
     "Oh, mainly French---" Louis caught her eye and grinned his
luminous grin. "Of course.  But he's very good, and his coq a vin
is marvelous."
     "Oh.  Would you ask him....I mean..." She was suddenly
awkward with Louis, remembering the three-way kiss upstairs.  
     "You should ask him.  You know him well enough by now." 
Louis poured a crystal goblet half-full of the ruby liquid and
pushed it towards her.  "Try this."
     Rhiannon took the glass, sniffed it for a moment, then took
a cautious sip.  The red wine swirled tastily around the inside
of her mouth, slid sweetly down her throat, creating a crimson
puddle of heat in her stomach.  "Mmmm, good."  She drew the
bottle towards her and read the label for a moment.  "His family
makes this?"
     Louis nodded.  "Yes, for centuries."
     Rhiannon laughed.  "Somehow I can't picture Lestat stripped
to the waist and stomping grapes in a vat."
     Louis grinned.  "Hmmmm, not really." He looked up as
there were footfalls on the stairs leading into the kitchen. 
Lestat had reappeared, his dark-blond hair damp from the shower. 
He smiled his sly smile when he saw both of them.  
     "Ah, I see you've discovered my family's vintage---"  He
picked up the bottle and read the label aloud.  "La Belle Estat,"
he said, his French naturally perfect.  "Have you tried it yet?"
     Rhiannon nodded.  "Yes, it's marvelous."  She regarded
Lestat as he moved around the kitchen, taking pots and pans out
of the cupboards.  He had dressed in a silk shirt of royal blue
and a pair of tight, black leather pants, and boots.  Seen naked,
he was beautiful; in silk and leather, he was breathtaking. 
"What are you doing?" Rhiannon asked, watching as Lestat turned
on the gas stove and lit the burner.
     "Why, I'm going to cook for you."  He grinned at Louis,
caressing his friend with his sapphire eyes.  "Hasn't Louis told
you of my culinary prowess?"
     "Yes, of course!  What will you make?"
     Lestat affected a mock-serious stance, chin in hand, his
smooth brow furrowed.  "Coq a Vin, I think."  He whirled away to
the countertop, twirled a copper pan in his hand.  "The two of
you can sit and drink and talk to me while I work."
     "Are you sure there's nothing I can help with?"  Rhiannon
swallowed the last of her wine, noted with pleasure how smoothly
the "Estat" slid down.
     "Are you any good with a knife?"  Lestat turned from the
stove, where he was swirling butter in the copper pan.  "You can
slice some garlic if you like."  He fetched a knife for her to
use and gave her a high stool to sit upon at the counter, even
tied an apron around her as he would for a child.  He watched in
silence for a moment her inept attempts to crush the slippery
cloves with the blade of the knife,  a slight smile curving his
sensuous lips.  "This way," he said gently, placing his hands
over hers on the knife and demonstrating.  "These are slippery,
you must have a firm grip, and---" He crushed the clove of garlic
with the flat of the knife--"squeeze the life out of them, or
else they will get away, and you will go hungry, cherie...."  His
mouth was near her ear, his breath stirring the hair at the sides
of her face.  Rhiannon shivered, taking the knife from him and
continuing the way he had shown her.  
     Lestat told them amusing stories while he worked, shifting
from the stove to the counter, bending to retrieve things from
the fridge.  Louis opened another bottle of La Belle Estat and
poured them all glasses of it, proposing a toast to Lestat, their
gracious host and chef.  They all drank to this and Lestat
obligingly cut a caper in the middle of the kitchen floor to
express his appreciation at this tribute. 
     In addition to the Coq A Vin, he crafted chocolate souffle,
spinning the dessert as light as air.  Rhiannon and Louis watched
as Lestat expertly whisked the chocolate in another of his
ubiquitous copper pots.  "You must taste this," he urged them, in
a sensuous whisper.  Instead of the spoon, however, he dipped one
long, elegant finger into the warm sauce and extended it towards
Louis, who grabbed Lestat's wrist and laughingly licked the
chocolate off his hand.  "Mmmm, not bad!"  
     Lestat lifted another fingerful and reached his hand towards
Rhiannon.  "You must learn to appreciate the fine, silky texture
of this chocolate."  His voice was a velvet growl in her ear as
his other hand tilted her face up to look into his eyes, those
sapphire eyes that held a strange, alien glitter.  His chocolate-
covered finger slid into her mouth as her tongue rose, unbidden,
to receive it.  Her mouth fastened around it for a moment, and
Lestat's lips parted on an inaudible moan.  His finely-etched
eyebrows lifted for just an instant,  the expression transforming
his sculpted features with an intimation of secret pleasures. 
Then, he slipped away from her and returned to his cooking pots.
     The three dined in the formal room off the kitchen, and
instead of electricity, Lestat had instructed Louis to light
dozens of antique candelabra that had been set into niches and
shelves along the walls.  Louis also brought another bottle of
Estat to the table and their glasses were again filled with the
ruby liquid.  
     The meal was superb, and the evening wore on, the
conversation lubricated with quantities of wine, the meal
finished with espresso and Lestat's chocolate dessert.  
     "That was marvelous, as usual."  Louis raised his coffee cup
to Lestat, seated across from him.
     "I thank you."  Lestat's sapphire eyes smiled at Rhiannon. 
"More coffee? Dessert?"
     She shook her head.  "No, I don't think so---but it was very
good."  She patted her stomach.  "I think I made a pig of
myself!"
     "Not at all."  Lestat smiled again, that witchy sly smile. 
"Louis, the hour grows late."
     Louis nodded.  "Of course.  Shall we go together?"
     Rhiannon got up.  "I'll tidy everything away.  I don't
mind."  She picked up her plate and started for the kitchen.  
     "...not the tavern again, Louis! Enough, already, we will be
found out!"
     Lestat and Louis were arguing in hushed whispers in the
dining room, yet their voices carried clearly to Rhiannon's
preternatural hearing, in the kitchen.  She slowed her motions,
making herself very still, although her Gift was such that she
had no need to strain to hear them.
     "...what do you suggest, Lestat? God knows, you seem to
think yourself an authority!"  Something crashed, the sound of
glass breaking.  
     "I am just telling you to be careful! I cannot afford to
take chances here! Not here, Louis, any other place on earth but
not here! If they knew---"  Lestat's voice was an angry hiss.
     "That was three hundred years ago! No one even remembers
anymore!"  Louis's whisper dropped even further in volume, yet
still carried to Rhiannon, who stood stone-still in the kitchen. 
"I know you're afraid, Lestat...."
     There was the sound of a muffled sob; Louis must be holding
him, Rhiannon thought.  "They would do to me what they did to
him! I know it! Here, in my heart, I know it!"  Lestat sounded
very scared, and Rhiannon summoned the Gift silently.
     A cross burned in her mind, and the entire mountain was
ablaze.  The villa compound was a scene from hell: screaming
servants fled,  animals died in horrible agony in the stables, a
blond woman in a long, white nightgown plummeted to her death
from the window of the tower room.  A man who looked shockingly
like Lestat, except older and bearded, stumbled about in demented
grief, calling, calling....
     "Rhiannon!" The sound of her voice was as sharp as a
whipcrack in her ear and she jumped, snapped herself back to
reality.  Louis stood there, twin lines etched between his brows. 
"We have a problem."  
     "I know...." At his querying look, she explained, "My Gift,
it shows me things, I---"  She looked up as Lestat came into the
room.
     "I have to go.  Not the tavern, but somewhere, I have to." 
Lestat was paler than ever, if that were possible.  "I must..."
The muscles of his throat rippled as he swallowed,  "...feed or I
will die."  He looked at Rhiannon, at Louis.
     "There's a storm coming up," Rhiannon said, moving to the
window. It was true: the wind, which had been clement and mild
all day had steadily risen in force and volume and now lashed at
the leaded panes of the old windows, seeking entry.  It had also
begun to snow: heavy, thick flakes that settled resolutely to the
ground and stuck fast.  The temperature had plummeted.
     "You can't go down there, not in this, you'll never get
back."  Rhiannon turned from the window to look at the two men.  
     "You don't understand, this isn't a matter of choice but
necessity."  Louis was striving to keep his voice even, but his
lower lip trembled, betraying him.  "We must go out."  He laughed
shortly, a sharp bark.  "Lestat will starve! And so will I."
     Rhiannon felt their awful dread settling about her shoulders
as heavy as a shroud.  She listened in silence for a moment to
the snow slapping against the windowpanes, the fire popping in
the grate.  "You will not starve."  She touched Louis's hand; it
was like ice.  "I will make sure of that."
     Lestat stared at her, his lips parted, and Rhiannon fancied
she could discern a gleam of hunger there.  He swallowed, licked
his lips, and Rhiannon repressed a shudder.  "You have been so
kind as to feed me: now, I will feed you."  Her manner was brisk,
practical, even though the air around her head hummed with fear. 
"I trust I will be sufficient for both of you?"
     Louis stepped forward.  "Rhiannon, please; you don't know
what you're saying."  His forehead was creased with worry, but
his eyes displayed the same hunger as did Lestat's.
     "Tell me the truth: what is it going to feel like?" 
Rhiannon asked them both.  "Is it going to hurt? Will I become
one of you?"
     Lestat shook his head, a sharp, spasmodic gesture.  "No.  In
order for you to become...like us, I would have to give you the
Dark Gift."
     Rhiannon's forehead creased.  "What does he mean?" She
turned to Louis.
     "He means you will have to drink of his blood in order to
become like us.  Fortunately, that isn't necessary to our
survival. Our bodies are efficient, and we would only need to
take a very little... to survive." Louis glanced at Lestat, then
back at Rhiannon.  "Are you sure you want to do this?"
     "There is nothing else to do! We have no other choice!  The
two of you require a living mortal, and here I am.  So---use me!" 
She spread her arms, a gesture of surrender.
     Lestat stepped forward.  His blue eyes regarded her gravely
for a moment and then he undid the buckle holding her hair and
let it fall around her, a coppery cape.  He ran one hand through
it, letting the cool silk of it ripple through his fingers. 
"This can be very pleasant for you."  
     Rhiannon had a fleeting vision of Lestat caressing a girl
outside the tavern; Louis feasting on the beautiful boy, and a
low, primitive pulse of desire began to beat in her belly. 
Without knowing what he intended, she at once discerned Lestat's
meaning.  
     "Better than anything you have ever felt before," he
whispered, and kissed her deeply, hungrily, his hands clasping
her shoulders with a surprising strength as his hot, moist mouth
tugged at hers.  The pulse shifted, setting the tiny bud between
her legs to throbbing insistently.  Her head swam, but not
because of the wine, and she noticed that Lestat had an erection.
     Lestat stepped back, let her go.  "In the livingroom, I
think, in front of the fire."  He gestured towards the swinging
doors that partitioned the huge, old kitchen from the rest of the
house.  "It will be warmer there." He ushered her out, followed
by Louis, into the other room.
     Louis put another log in the grate and poked it peremptorily
with the brass poker, sending up a shower of sparks.  Lestat had
wandered to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stood
looking out at the storm.  "Candles, she would want candlelight,"
he intoned to Louis, who fetched the candelabra they had used at
supper.  The electric lights were extinguished, and with only the
haunting, elemental glow of the fire, Rhiannon started to
disrobe.  The flickering flames played over her rich red hair,
her alabaster skin, creating intriguing patterns of light and
shadow.  She unbuttoned her blouse and let the cool cotton
slither off her graceful arms, drop to the floor.  She wore no
brassiere or camisole, and the sudden change in temperature made
her pink nipples tighten and stand erect.  Lestat groaned softly,
standing with Louis and watching her in silence.  He made a
sudden motion, as if to go to her, but stopped himself.
     Rhiannon's hands went to the waistband of her skirt and
untied the cord that held it fastened at her waist.  The fabric
parted, puddled suddenly on the floor around her ankles, and she
stepped out of it, now clad only in her panties.
     The firelight played deliciously over the smooth, rounded
whiteness of her belly and thighs, but poured shadow over her
legs, giving an impression of insubstantiality, a woman hovering
in mid-air.  She turned her face to the fire, suddenly shy, and
slithered out of her panties, bending to pull them off her feet,
a motion that exposed the soft, rounded globes of her buttocks. 
Louis felt a frantic pulse beating in his groin, his wrists and
throat, and turned to Lestat, need standing in his eyes.  "Ah,
Louis, please---"  Lestat clasped the other vampire's hand in his
for a moment, nudged him towards Rhiannon, who now stood nude in
front of the fireplace, clothed only in her waist-length, coppery
hair.  Louis went forward into Rhiannon's arms, his long-fingered
hands going around her waist gratefully.  
     He kissed her first, playing his hot, opened mouth over
hers, his tongue slipping between her lips while his lean,
muscular body pressed into hers.  Lestat had slumped onto the
couch, watching them with an ecstatic, glassy-eyed intensity, his
sensuous lips parted, gleaming.  
     Louis ran both hands up Rhiannon's smooth, white neck and in
a quick movement, holding her head steady, located the carotid
artery with ease and punctured it gratefully.  Life swirled
around him, was truncated down into a short, sharp pleasure as
her hot blood gushed into his mouth.  His knees nearly buckled
with relief and desire as his lips fastened tightly to her smooth
skin. 
     Rhiannon sagged in Louis's grasp, feeling the sharp puncture
of his teeth as they sank deeply into the tender skin of her
neck.  She struggled for an instant, a flicker of time, then
subsided as a great, beating torment of ecstasy beyond any which
she had known before, took her.  She was dimly aware of Louis
holding her to him as his artful mouth sucked her life, but it
mattered not a bit.  The throbbing lust that had started between
her thighs expanded to encompass her whole being, flooding every
cell of her body.  She knew nothing but this joy, this pleasure
that Louis could give her with the simple act of tasting her
rich, red life.  She writhed against him, her naked body wrapped
around him, her legs entwined with his, as he somehow held her
upright in front of the fireplace.  She dimly heard him sighing,
moaning against her, felt his lips withdraw from her flesh just
before a great, shuddering orgasm boiled up from the depths of
her, wrenching a muffled scream from her throat.  She groped
blindly for Louis and held his reassuring solidness to her, her
fingers digging into his hard shoulders, her legs wrapped around
his waist.  The world resolved itself again into the room, the
fire, and the two vampires with her.
     Louis smiled at her, his mouth still a little wet with her
blood, and kissed her lingeringly.  He looked satisfied, replete,
and he gently set her down on the floor, motioning Lestat
forward.
     Lestat had not missed the previous tableau that had occurred
in front of him.  He came towards her, his sapphire eyes gleaming
with unspent lust, his erection straining frankly against the
front of his black leather trousers.  Rhiannon felt another wave
of desire race tingling up the roots of her hair as she watched
him come towards her, all golden beauty and taut muscles.  With
Louis, the lust enveloping her had been hazy, gentle---with
Lestat, it would be different.
     She met him halfway across the floor and ripped all the
buttons from his shirt, exposing the hard planes of his chest. 
He continued to approach her, gliding along the floor with a
dancer's grace, his lithe hips pulling him towards her, towards
her pink, naked loveliness. He grabbed her and lifted her into
his arms, carried her in two strides to the couch he had
previously occupied, watching her and Louis only moments before. 
Rhiannon wrenched his shirt off his body, exclaiming aloud at the
beauty of him as her eager hands traveled over his hot skin. 
Lestat stretched her out on the couch, half lying on top of her,
and with a cunning, spiked thimble, pricked a tiny hole in her
neck directly below the one that Louis's teeth had made. He
attached his hot, wet mouth to this and sucked her vigourously,
his strong young body arching against hers, pressing her into the
couch.  Rhiannon groped for the fastening of his trousers, and,
reaching inside, freed his engorged cock.  She slid her hand up
the silky length of it, timing her rhythmic strokes to his
sucking as he fed off her blissfully.  She spread her legs
underneath him and Lestat obligingly thrust into her, impaling
the warm centre of her on his hard cock.  Rhiannon felt a
different pleasure, lancing through her body and hardening her
nipples to ripe peaks as Lestat moaned atop her, riding her
enthusiastically as his hot mouth pulled life from her veins. 
Rhiannon held his lithe body to her as she came; not once, as she
had with Louis, but twice, clutching Lestat so hard that she was
sure she'd made marks with her fingers.  She smiled when he
lifted his mouth from her neck abruptly, erupting in a
shuddering, writhing climax, filling her with his hot juices.
     There was silence in the room for a long moment, while time
spun out unheeded, save for the crackling of the fire.
     Louis was the first to move: coming to sit on the floor in
front of Lestat and Rhiannon, he lifted Lestat's face in his hand
and kissed him deeply, lingeringly, with great affection. 
"Louis...." Lestat murmured.
     Rhiannon turned his face to hers.  "That was...unearthly." 
She pressed her opened mouth to Lestat's forehead, his
cheekbones, the corners of his lips.  She beckoned Louis close
and kissed him also, feeling a faint tingle of desire before she
released him.
     Lestat, still inside her, raised himself on one elbow.  "You
saved us.  Thank you."  His eyes were kind as he smiled at her,
his witchy smile.  He separated himself from her gently and got
up, gracefully tucking everything inside his trousers and zipping
them up.  His buttonless shirt was still where Rhiannon had flung
it, over the back of the couch.  He picked it up now and turned
to leave the room.
     "I want it." Rhiannon's voice echoed in the vaulted corridor
of the livingroom.
     Louis looked at her. "You can't know what you're saying."
     "Yes, I do, Louis."  She sat up, wrapped herself in one of
the ubiquitous throws that littered the house.  "Lestat---I want
the Dark Gift."
     Lestat's sensuous mouth opened on nothing, his gaze
flickering for a moment on Louis, still seated on the floor. 
"Are you sure?"
     Louis leapt to his feet. "Lestat, are you mad?! You can't be
serious!"
     Lestat held up a hand.  "She already has much Gift, Louis---
it cannot be a large step, can it my dear?"  He sat next to her. 
"You would be one of us, forever a creature of night."
     "I know."  Rhiannon held out her hands to both of them. 
"Please--from both of you. I want it."
     Louis sighed, turned away to roll up the sleeve of his dark
sweater and deftly, seeming not to move, made a small gash in his
own wrist with his teeth.  He offered it to her like a personal
communion. 'I am the cup of life,' Rhiannon thought,
incongruously.  'Drink from me and live forever.'  She bent her
head to Louis's wrist and sucked deeply, her mouth tugging at him
till he gently pushed her away.  Lestat took his place, offering
her his wrist to drink, watching with unveiled satisfaction as
she took his dark, rich blood eagerly.  His sapphire eyes gleamed
and a faint smile hung on his sensuous lips.  "Yes," he whispered
once, very low, "yes...."  He let her suck for a moment and then
pulled away, pressing a handkerchief to the wound.  
     "You will begin to die," Louis said quietly.
     Rhiannon looked up, a sudden fear clutching at her.  "I
thought you said...."
     Lestat smiled at her indulgently. "Your mortal body will
die--all that is human in you will die. But you will live.  It
will, however, be mightily uncomfortable for awhile."
     Lestat and Louis made her as comfortable as possible on the
sofa in front of the fire and each took turns watching with her
while her mortal body convulsed and died, wracking her
with horrible pains.
     By the time the eerie half-light of false dawn pushed
sinuous fingers through the ancient leaded panes, her
transformation was complete: her hair was rich and full, gleaming
like flame; her skin was as white as pure alabaster, flawless;
her full mouth was as dark as wine.  And her eyes held the same
otherworldly light as did Louis's and Lestat's.
     She spent some time examining herself in the full-length
mirror in Lestat's tower room, turning around and around before
it.  "I look the same but I'm different!"  This was a paradox she
could not unravel, yet these new changes filled her with an odd
sense of power: over time, over mortality, over the universe
itself.  It was glorious.
     Lestat came to her and kissed her gently, led her to the
huge, four-poster bed where Louis was already ensconced.  "It
grows light, you must sleep now."  He removed the heavy throw she
was still wrapped in and, lifting her in his arms, laid her
gently in the bed next to Louis, who wrapped an arm around her,
pulling her close to him. Lestat skinned out of his clothing,
shivering in the chilly winter air, and climbed in beside
Rhiannon and Louis.  "Such luxury," he chuckled, "the three of us
here together.  Better not get used to it...."
     "What does that mean?" Rhiannon turned her head on the
pillows to look into Lestat's blue eyes.  He was smiling sleepily
at her.
     "You must use a coffin, my dear, in the outside world.  To
risk discovery in a city full of people by sleeping in a regular
bed?"  Lestat chuckled, his slender, strong shoulders shaking.
"The neighbours would question, after a time, coming to your door
when you sleep all day and are never seen till dusk.  They would
hammer at your door, seek to awaken you. The coffin is necessary,
and it must be well-hidden."  He yawned, covered his mouth
politely, kissed her forehead.  "Sleep now.  When you awaken,
Louis and I will show you how to hunt.  You are the predator
now."
     Rhiannon curled into Louis's warm body, already sleeping,
felt Lestat snuggle into her, spoonlike.  The warm rays of dawn
slid joyfully over the hill but no light caught the three
sleeping figures who lay immobile at the top of La Belle Estat.

         To Be Continued in BOW: All Our Yesterdays