CROSSING SUMMERLAND by JoAnne Soper-Cook, 1995 jsoperco@morgan.ucs.mun.ca Hello...the Vampire Lestat here. I suppose you're expecting another of my charming narratives, filled with the same dash and glamour you've come to appreciate, the same pithy epigrams, the same heady taste of vampiric adventure. Sorry...this isn't about that at all. And if you are expecting that sort of thing, then perhaps you had better quit reading now... I fear I've lost my taste for dash and adventure, and now, at this juncture of my immortal existence, crave nothing more than peace.... It was snowing quite heavily when I landed, setting down in the midst of a swirly, frosty maelstrom. The night was dank, pressing down on me in varicoloured greys, heavy winter clouds that hung over me, clinging like a shroud. And I was cold, cold with the bone-deep chill that reminded me so keenly of my lost mortality; a cold that lodged itself into the marrow of my bones and pounded into my consciousness with every heartbeat. The sea, farther out from this primitive wooden quay upon which I'd landed, was black this night, roiling and inky like a dark pool of oil; it swallowed the icy snow that plummeted relentlessly from the leaden sky. I didn't know this place, far off the extreme eastern coast of Canada, this forver-winter isle, clad in its carapace of ice and snow, its secrets locked from me in its glacial vault. I was as much a stranger here as I have ever been, in any place. It seemed scant months ago that I left my darling Armand to his ancestral home in the Adriatic, and ventured back to New Orleans, my balmy Caribbean home, the seat of all my loves and all my desires... The time in Greece with Armand had been a sweet dream, a fleeting, midsummer madness... and I had missed my beautiful Louis. He had welcomed me home, my darling, as he always has, with open arms, his beautiful green eyes brimming with the dark, blood-tears, his lean-muscled body etched memories on mine as we clung to each other beneath my familiar sheets... I deluded myself for a time, that my discontent would wither in the face of Louis's affections, that my gentle torments of David would make me smile, and that the delicious memories of my sweet, ancient Armand would fill the gaping hole in my immortal soul. Well, I was wrong. Not something I admit often, I assure you... I am not like Louis, I do not dwell upon the pains of my existence, I do not go about quantifying and cataloguing every anguish, every sorrow... I do not punish myself with the details of my true nature, form my own vampiric nature into a whip with which to harm myself: I am not Armand, I do not and would not willingly flagellate myself, tear my own flesh with memories... I am what I am. I did not ask to be made this way, but here I am. I have made it my practice to "bloom where I am planted" as they say. And so far, it had kept the sorrow at bay. But there came the day when I'd had to take my leave of him, had to gently disengage his aristocratic fingers from around my neck... "I don't understand why you must go, why you must leave me again!" His green eyes were anguished, confused; he knew nothing of why I had to leave him again... "Louis..." I pressed my lips against his temple, the corner of his mouth... "just a little journey, cher; and I will come back to you, I promise..." It *killed* me to see his pale face, slender to the point of gauntness, drawn and anguished in this way...his sorrow pierced me like a knife, pierced and twisted. "This is so very important to me." I had taken my leave of him, had left David with instructions to see that Louis lacked for nothing, that he fed well and often, that he not wear his clothes to rags... "You mustn't explain...I do understand, Lestat." David squeezed my shoulder with one strong hand. "Now go and find your truth--or your God." He smiled, that thin British smile that so amused and so enervated me. "I don't believe in God...and he probably doesn't believe in me, either!" I kissed his cheek. "Besides, what will I have to do to attract this God, after all these years? Stuff a crucifix down my shorts and hope he'll notice?" David coloured slightly, his lips quivering with repressed laughter. "Really, Lestat--that's rather...*blasphemous*!" I cast a look in his direction. "David...what's he going to do? Strike me dead?" He laughed at that, but sobered quickly as he took his leave of me, giving me his own inimitible benediction. "Where will you go?" I shrugged. "I'm not sure..." I lapsed for a moment into musing, and the image of a snow-clad isle swam into my consciousness...seagulls, shrieking over huge, brawn rocks...mountains made of granite, older than I... And here I was...this island, this New Found Land... and it was just past midnight, and I was freezing... I left the quay and walked uphill against the freezing snow, which slapped the naked skin of my face, a million tiny pinpricks... The streets led upwards, sloping up from the wooden wharves of the waterfront, and I followed this icy stairway until I could stand on the street above, which formed a sort of plateau. It was silent here; silent and cold and deserted. I could see no evidence of mortal life, save for the disappearing lights of a taxi-cab, which swung around the corner and vanished past me into the swirling snow. Well, I couldn't stay out here, that much was certain...and I spied a large building at the top of the street, which looked rather like a hotel. I had no luggage, of course; but perhaps that might not be a problem...I am not completely without skill when it comes to charming mortals.... "May I help you, sir?" The young woman behind the counter addressed me in a lilting, quasi-Irish accent, and turned her pretty blue eyes on me. I must have made a sight, standing melting before her desk, caked in snow and ice, but she didn't turn a hair. "I am wondering if I might rent a room, please--" I produced a credit card in the name of one of my aliases, Sebastian Melmoth, and slid it across the counter to her. "This should be fine...how long will you be staying, Mr...uhm, Melmoth?" I thought for a long moment, and came up with no acceptable answer. "A couple of days, perhaps a week, I'm not sure." I gave her one of my dazzling smiles, wrapped her mortal consciousness in my immortal glamouring. "I am here to do some business." "I see." She ran my charge card through her little machine and passed it back to me, slid the slip across the counter, and I signed it with my usual flourish. Within five minutes, I was ensconced in a warm and comfortable room. I first ran the water and took a hot, luxurious shower, washing both my body and my hair, letting the heat soak the chill from my battered bones... I collected the little bottle of shampoo that they supplied and lathered my hair, kneading my scalp with my fingertips and washing the lather away in the hot stream. Much refreshed by this, I switched on the television and fell into a deep sleep on the huge bed...there was still time yet to feed, I could nap...I could---I yawned hugely--rest for just a minute.... I was jolted out of a dream, a luscious dream of Louis, and of taking him, slowly, sensuously, of running my hands up and down the taut length of him, squeezing his hard muscles...of bending my head and running my lips and tongue over--- "Do you want the room cleaned?" Bang-bang--the door buckled a little, I was certain... I sat upright as if on strings, sought to orient myself to time and place... The bedside clock read 2:15 a.m.... I rubbed a hand over my eyes, and climbed gingerly off the bed...my muscles were sore and stiff from the cold. I opened the door to see a young woman with a housekeeping cart, upon which were heaped various cleaning implements, rolls of toilet paper, tiny soaps... "That room wasn't cleaned--they sent me up--do you want it cleaned?" The girl peered up at me anxiously through a mop of carroty hair and cracked a piece of chewing gum between her teeth. Her accent was slightly different from the girl at the desk; rougher and less refined... I deduced that she was probably from one of the outlying regions. "I...ah, no thank you!" I realised that I was standing there wearing nothing but a towel around my hips... if I were mortal, I'd have been embarrassed. "Right on." She pushed the cart ahead of her and vanished down the hall. I closed the door and locked it; tried it twice to see if it was solid enough to guarantee my safety, and was pleased to see that it was. It wouldn't do for some employee of the hotel--like the cleaning girl--to come bursting in on me in daylight, rip open the draperies and expose me to the deadly sunlight. I must take every precaution to ensure my own safety, if I were ever to return to my beautiful Louis... Having slept enough, I dressed warmly in clothing which I'd purchased from the hotel shop, proferring again my Amex card which they gladly accepted. I'd bought thick trousers of some kind of corduruoy, a couple of high-necked sweaters, some long underwear, socks and boots, and the requisite gloves...this place was a far cry from the heat and humidity of New Orleans, and immortal or not, I definitely was feeling the cold. I might as well be comfortable, I reasoned, for as long as I would be here. My travels that night took me to one of the city's many great churches, which surprisingly, stood open, perhaps to offer shelter on this stormy night... I went inside, my booted feet making no sound on the carpeted runner which went up the length of the centre aisle, and slipped silently into a front pew. Save for a couple of lighted braziers, there was little light. Should another traveler happen by, he would see nothing in this dimness but a young blond man, deep in his own contemplations... This was a beautiful place to contemplate...I had noticed a plaque on my way in, that read, "The Basilica of Saint John the Baptist" and indeed, there had been a statue of that worthy saint outside the door. I didn't much care for his posture, however: he held one fist clenched in front of him, as if admonishing parishoners to enter, or else... This thought amused me, and I found myself giggling quietly in the warm, incense-scented silence. "Oh, Lestat...you blasphemer, you. David was right about you!" I slid out of my seat and went to the front of the church, took the taper there and lit a small votive candle... The tiny flame flickered for an instant, and then flared into life, blooming brightly in front of my eyes before dying down to a normal height... I smiled to myself, recalled the vain notions I had always treasured whenever I'd found myself in places like this... "You always smile when you do that--why?" Louis had asked me once, when we stood in great Notre Dame, and I'd again lit a candle. "Something about it amuses you--what is it?" I remember that I leaned close and kissed his smooth white cheek, whispered in his ear: "I always think that I'm adding to the sum of light within the Universe...and am a little like God!" I'd drawn back, grinning wickedly at his shocked expression. But it was true... I could do nothing else, predator that I am, I could offer nothing else...and while I profess no great yearnings towards goodness, this act of adding light was a very *satisfying* one... at some level that I do not pretend to understand. "You *do* seek God," David had said to me once, and I had brushed it off. "Rubbish--let Him seek me!" I'd laughed scornfully. "No, you do---as much as you deny it, you want to be good. You want to find out what He wants from you, and do it." David had said this when he'd been mortal, and we were talking late one night, in his study at the Motherhouse... I'd pretended not to know what meant, and moreover, not to care. I deliberately avoided pondering it now, lest I fall into some deep theological musing, the kind of thinking which Louis so enjoys and I so despise.... Someone was whispering.... I turned my head slightly sideways, the hood of my winter coat rustling, and saw a young woman... Long, dark hair, thick and richly-shining, like a raven's wing...deep, chocolate-coloured eyes, dark lashes...Her mouth was a perfect Cupid's bow, and moved so adorably as I watched her... "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee...blessed art Thou among women..." She trailed off when she'd heard me move, and we stood for a long moment, staring at each other, from where each of us stood in front of the altar, and then she gasped. "You're him!" She crossed the short space between us and grabbed my arms, peered intently into my face, and for a moment I feared she might be a little mad... "The one I've been seeing in dreams---Gentle Jesus! It *is* you!" Her accent was French, but not a French I recognised... "Your name is Lestat." My eyes widened and I pulled away from her. "How do you know this?" A chill seemed to pervade the church, and I shuddered. This was all too eerie, even for me! "Don't be afraid..." Her hand on my arm, "My name is Vanessa...we have much work to do, Monsieur De Lioncourt. Much work, indeed." As if in a dream, I let her pull me, unresisting, from the great Basilica... Only when the cold of the night hit me did I revive enough from this waking fantasy to ask her: "What is it you're going to do?" I felt as if I were walking underwater, but it was so very unthreatening, this new reality, and I had no desire to leave it... "I am going to help you...to help you cross into summerland. Come." I went with her, willingly. "You must tell me where we are going!" I pulled my wrist out of Vanessa's grasp and stood, stock-still, and as solidly immobile as my preternatural strength would allow. "You're so beautiful," she breathed, and her hand stroked my face. "You must tell me!" I grasped her wrist as it came down, held it in my hand. Her skin was warm, smooth, so mortal, and I could feel the sweet thrumming of her blood under her skin. "I don't even know your last name, I know nothing about you." I peered at her, deep into her brown eyes. "And you seem to have me at a disadvantage in that you know *everything* about me..." Something strange and vaguely wonderful swirled about behind her chocolate eyes... I wondered what it was... "Vanessa Delvalle---and I will tell you the rest when we reach my flat...it's cold, please--come with me!" "How do you know I won't kill you?" I advanced on her a step, my top lip drawing back to expose my fang teeth. "Break your neck tonight while you sleep, drink your blood? How do you know I won't drain you---" I was speaking slowly and deliberately now, and my gloved hand had crept around the back of her neck and squeezed the sweet nape of it, my fingers tangled in the silky curls... "--suck every drop of your life slowly out of you, while you writhe helplessly in my grasp, like a butterfly on a pin? Hmmm?" I leaned in close to her and pressed my mouth against hers; *not* what she expected, as she gasped slightly, and then clutched into me, her mouth eagerly responding to mine...for a moment I had the weird sensation of an almost-mortal desire, rising up through my loins, into my belly, and it caused me to release her suddenly, so suddenly that she nearly fell. "We have very important work to do, you and I..." Her gloved hand touched her lips, feeling the imprint of my caress, and her dark hair was whipped about her wildly, crusted with a thin coating of snow and ice... She looked at that moment like some ancient goddess, risen out of some primordial glacier. "I don't understand," I whispered, as my reality slipped away from me for an instant, and I was standing on a grassy plain at twilight... "Summerland," she whispered, and her dark, gorgeous eyes were again lit with that inner fire. "Come with me." She held out her hand again and I took it...I was still infused with that transient sense of strangeness, and alien images lingered near the surface of my consciousness.... I saw myself in another guise, gently lowering her to Earth while ancient fires flickered all around us... and above and around her eyes, a blue tattoo of a butterfly.... "I see the Goddess in you," this other-self whispered, as I held her in my arms, covered her mouth with mine... I don't know if I spoke the words aloud, but we were moving again, along the desolate winter length of LeMarchant Road...on, into the night. She brought me to her lodgings, a small, tidy room above a bed-and-breakfast. She closed the door and took my coat from me, hung in on a peg, offered me a chair by the fire. The room was a replica of an 18th-century dwelling, perfect in every detail...so intricate was the delusion that for a moment my eyes swam with tears as I recalled my rooms in the Rue Royale, and Louis...my precious Louis... "Please sit and warm yourself," she pressed me into a chair, busying herself with poking up the fire. "We have much to discuss, you and I." She gifted me with one of her smiles, her full lips parted to reveal her pearly teeth... I wanted to take her bottom lip between my teeth, I wanted to crush the hot, silken length of her naked skin to me, lower her to summer grasses between two ancient fires... :Summer King, Come to Me on the Hill of Fires! Summer King... : I blinked; the room had changed...the fire was a pile of embers and Vanessa was sleeping on the bed under the window... My limbs felt sluggish, my senses somehow dulled, as if I'd ingested some kind of powerful opiate...I remembered Claudia's ancient gift of two drugged children, and I shuddered. But this was ridiculous! I couldn't have ingested anything, I hadn't fed! I lingered for a moment over her, tormented with the question: should I take her, or not? And would I be able to take only the Little Drink, or would my passion seize me in its hungry teeth and glut itself on her.... She stirred on the narrow bed, one cheek flushed pink from where it had been pressed into the pillow...one arm was flung over her head, and where the sleeve of her sweater had ridden up, the soft white flesh of her arm was revealed...I wanted to drop to my knees and sink my fangs into that soft white arm... *Get out!* I thought, and turned from her in desperation, snatching up my coat from the wooden peg over the doorsill... She had not awakened, I could leave without disturbing her, I could go quietly, find some slick young punk, glut myself on one tavern's crowded and noisy fill.... "Lestat...." She had awakened, and as I turned, I saw that she was lying on her stomach on the bed... Her dark hair, as glossy as some wild bird's wing, caressed her flushed pink cheeks like the hand of an errant lover, or the wind... Her full lower lip was slightly parted from the other, and its moist softness gleamed in the dim lights of the room... the sweet, milky curve of her neck was almost more than I could bear... "I must go out to feed, you do realise what I am!" I said this brusquely, almost angrily, and shrugged into my coat. The heavy jacket settled around my shoulders like my ancient, fur- lined cloak and fit me like my ever-present guilt... I am not given to angst-filled examinations of my true nature, as is Louis... But I know what I am. "I want to watch you---" Her voice was husky from sleep; throaty, sexy... it tugged at me, produced in me again that nearly-mortal lust, that rising desire that tingled in my groin.... "No!" I sliced the air with the flat of my hand. "I would *never* let you see me kill!" I zipped the jacket quickly: too quickly, and the small, sharp teeth of the zipper caught the soft flesh underneath my chin. I gave a short exclamation of pain, and she was at my side. "Let me see...you've hurt yourself..." Her little fingers gently eased the offending metal away from the soft skin of my face, and then her lips were on my neck, the hard, wet tip of her agile tongue flickered on the underside of my chin as the tingling desire rose and burst, and my dormant member stiffened... This was bizarre, yet not unwelcome... The rising tide of lust lit fire in my belly as I caught her chin in my hand and pressed the hot opening of her tender mouth to mine... She sagged against me, moaning softly as I deepened the kiss, probing her warm, moist mouth with my tongue... I felt the hesitant tip of her tongue slip between my parted lips, and I caught it, sucked on it gently, found myself timing this action to the delicious throbbing in my groin... :Summer King! Come to me, on the Hill of Fires! Summer King!: Another bizarre vision, this time of a young blond man, tall and sturdy, streaked with blood and dancing frenziedly between two fires... ...the drug seeped into me through dozens of tiny cuts in my skin, and all about and around me, the night sky whirled---I could sense the turning of the earth, feel this primordial, cosmic spinning as the stars flowed liquid, and the songs of rare night birds rained upon me like condensing dew... I was Earth, and Air; Fire and Water, I was time, and night, and existence itself, I was a great cosmic force, more ancient than a mountain, and I would always be... :Summer King: I whirled, and leapt, and the drums throbbed, on and on it went, and it was glorious! And I was running through the fires, her hand clasped in mine, and we were laughing, falling in the ploughed furrows of the field, my skin singing with the luscious pain as belladonna seeped into my soul... :King Stag! Come, dance this Beltane fire: The sky came down, a great inverted bowl above us as she rode me, her hard little hands clasped tight on my shoulders, her head thrown back, long hair streaming in the soft night breezes... she was earth, and she was everything... I gasped, and stumbled backwards out of her embrace; her fingers were tangled in my hair and I was painfully aroused... I thrust her away from me, and she fell softly onto the narrow bed. "What--what did you do to me?" I pointed a shaking finger. "Why is this happening to me!?" The room whirled around me, a dizzying panorama of confusing colour, light, and sound, and from far off, the drums beat, louder in my ears. "Louis!" I whispered once, before the roaring consumed me, and I gave myself up to the oblivion.... There was silence for a time, and into this silence, I fancied that I heard Louis speaking... "Don't ask me to do this, I *cannot*!" Our shoes made clicking sounds upon the fine marbled floors, and far-off, there were violins, the sounds of waltzes being played and music sifting through the opened doors into the summer's night... And there was Armand, laughing with me in Greece, and kissing me, and loving me... When I awoke, I was weeping: dark blood tears that stained the sheets, my naked skin. It was dusk again, and I was alone in this strange place, this New Found Land, but I fancied that the storm had at last abated... I lay silently for a time, listening to all the little sounds around me: the creak of walking footsteps in the snow outside, the clash and clatter of dishes downstairs in the kitchen, the soft soughing of the wind as it teased the house's eaves... I shifted my body in the sheets and felt the blood- thirst begin, throbbing through me. I must feed. I threw back the covers and got out of bed. I was alone. I had no idea where Vanessa had gone, if she had been merely a trick of the previous night's imaginings... I had to feed, and then get back to my hotel, I had to collect my belongings and get the hell out of here! I had decided, immediately upon awakening, to quit my spiritual quest, take myself back home to my Louis, my sweet lover, and my New Orleans... I showered in the little bath that opened just off the main room, and clothed myself again in my warm winter garments. I had no idea what the weather would be outside, and I wanted no more nasty surprises... It was simple to prise open the old, double-hung window sash and drop silently to the ground, slide the fine leather of my warm gloves over my hands and amble on my way. Vanessa, when she returned, would find me silently vanished, and could do nothing about it. I would be at home in the Rue Royale before her mortal senses even registered me as gone.... I entered a tavern of sorts, just down the street from the hotel, which was advertised as: "The Brass Rack--Pool and Billiards" and ordered a beer from a ponytailed young woman who came to serve me. The beer, of course, was merely a prop, until my actual dinner came along, and it looked like my meal wouldn't be difficult to find. The interior of this place was pleasantly dark and filled with thick blue cigarette smoke, and thus immured at my table against the wall, I waited. I luckily didn't have to wait long: the heavy wooden door of this establishment wafted open to admit a trio of tipsy young women, who giggled in and sat down at the table next to mine. All three were bundled into heavy winter coats, which were quickly shed, revealing taut young figures poured into tight blue-jeans and low-cut, modern tops. The blood thirst pounded in my chest, my ears, my loins, and I hastily swallowed a mouthful of the loathsome brew in front of me, to quell my rising urge. It would be fatal to move too quickly and risk discovery, a creed I had struggled to teach Louis, God knows; and if I wanted to eat this night, I would let them come to me.... "My Gaud, Trish, look-a him--he's some cute, sure!" This from a petite red-head, her hair combed into high bangs in front, a style that reminded me of nothing so much as the statue of Liberty... I hoisted my ale in her direction and smiled, lips closed... "He looks like Geoff Tilley, sure!" Her companion, a dimply blonde, peered at me over the hand that covered her mouth, then leaned over the table and giggled uproarously. I tried to resist rolling my eyes, reminded myself that hungry beggers can't be choosers... I ordered another ale from the pretty waitress and drifted over to the table where the three girls were. I stood there for a moment, coaching them silently with my mind, :Notice the long legs, notice the blond hair, the blue eyes, notice and desire, ladies!: Twenty minutes later, I was sinking my fangs gratefully into the dimply blonde's soft pink neck, feeling her fresh blood fill me with a burning satisfaction... I straightened up and let her drop, wiped my mouth greedily on the back of my hand. The world seemed an infinitely kinder place now that I had fed... Now to get back to New Orleans and my precious, darling Louis... A low moan distracted me, and I spun in my tracks---the girl had to be dead! I'd drained her! "Just like in my dreams...I've seen you do it---" Vanessa. Leaning against the brick wall behind this tavern, her warm breath pluming out whitely into the velvety cold blackness of night. She came over to where I was and pressed her opened mouth to mine, her eager hands clutching at me, her hot tongue tracing the moist inside of my mouth, the line of my lips, deftly taking the last vestiges of the dead girl's blood.... I felt the swirling, sucking visions as they pulled me down again, clutched her slender body to me, pressed her soft breasts cruelly against the hardness of my chest and delved into her mouth... I don't know what possessed me, but I wanted to punish her, to *own* her... "This is madness!" I gasped, my own voice sounding hoarse and foreign to my ears as I pulled away from her. The pounding lust beat madly, blood singing in my ears, and she was smiling.... "You have to come with me," she said, and I went into her embrace, surrended to this enchantment, let her take me again into this dark and dangerous dream. The night was pricked with sharp, cold stars and I fancied I could feel them sting me, their coldness seeping into my skin, just like belladonna.... I swam up slowly, as if coming out of my death-sleep, and awoke in the chilly half-light of dusk to find myself in Vanessa's bed... She was nowhere to be seen, and for a moment, I fancied the weird happenings of the night before as nothing more than shadows, flickering on the walls of my mind... Yet, there lingered a sense of deep uneasiness as I replayed the scene behind the tavern, her hot mouth devouring mine hungrily, her tongue probing for the last of the dead girl's blood... I shuddered and got out of bed... a full-length mirror on the opposite wall gave me back my reflection, and I stood for a moment, watching myself through that other man's blue eyes, wondering what that other man thought... I noticed with detachment that my lips were swollen and slightly bruised, something which increased my sense of unease...our kind do not bleed, we are not susceptible to the normal slings and arrows which damage mortal flesh, and yet... I brought my hand up to my mouth and traced the wide outline with my thumb. My hand scraped on stubble. I jerked my fingers away as if I'd been burned... the room dipped and spun around me, and I clutched at a dresser to steady myself as the blood-sweat popped out on my forehead, my upper lip...this wasn't possible! Yet there it was: a fine sheen of golden stubble that gleamed dully in the half-light of the window... my beard was growing... I sat down hard, on the bed, and listened with detachment to my blood, singing in my ears... The door to the little room swung open and shut, and there was Vanessa...she carried my clothing over her arm, and some thick towels, and the scent of fabric softener carried easily to my nostrils. "Lestat...?" She laid the laundry on the bed, sat beside me. "Whatever is the matter?" Her soft French accent (Canadian French, I'd learned) lent a pleasing lilt to the words as her soft little mouth shaped them... I ached, suddenly, to kiss her... My arms were around her, my mouth cruelly plundering hers, and my hands were all over her in some parody of mortal desire...I'd slept in a simple pair of pajama trousers, a type that Louis sometimes favoured, and now a full erection pressed straining against the fabric... A great, sweeping tide of lust was coursing through me, throbbing; I felt it to the tips of my fingers.... "You must listen to me, now---" She pushed me away gently, her small hands on my naked shoulders. "Shhh---" I reached for her, but her finger pressed against the center of my lips, silencing me. Her eyes were thoughtful, and strangely sad... "Vanessa, what is it, darling?" I reached for the clothing she'd brought, piled it in my lap. "Is there something wrong?" "I think you ought to get dressed---we must discuss this, it's very important that you understand completely." Her response confused me, but I did as she asked, taking my clothes and dressing discreetly in the little bathroom while she waited outside. I ran my knuckles again over my beard, wondering if I ought to shave, wondering if I remembered how...I pulled open the door of the little medicine chest, and found nothing resembling a razor... I would have to leave it for the time being. I ran a wet cloth over my face and combed my hair, drew it back into a ponytail out of the way, and rejoined Vanessa in the main room. She'd made the bed while waiting for me, and I saw that a meal of sorts had been ordered from the kitchen downstairs: a pot of coffee, some sandwiches on white bread, a plate of sliced fruit. I supposed she hadn't eaten yet. "Please...sit and join me," she gestured to a place across from her and I sat. "Coffee?" she asked. "I don't drink coffee...or eat, either--Vanessa, what is this? You know I don't consume mortal food--" This wasn't entirely true: on times, I have sampled regular food, and some of it, I am almost fond of--chocolate, for instance, is a favorite of mine--but I find most mortal sustenance bland and flavourless, compared to the rich, heady bouquet of a mouthful of fresh blood.... "I think you might wish to try some of the fruit--you will find that you need it now." Her dark eyes held a sharp expression, a remonstrance, and I wondered why. "Don't be ridiculous--" "I noticed that your beard is growing." She reached across the table and rubbed the back of her hand against my cheek. I heard the stubble rasp against her tender, white skin as she withdrew her fingers. "And there are lines around your eyes." "I don't believe you, and I have *no* idea what is going on here!" I made as if to get up, but her hand on my arm prevented it. "This is--" "Lestat, you must listen." Her hand slid down and gripped my wrist firmly: for such a young woman, she was surprisingly strong, but I believe much of that strength came from will. I noticed, rather distractedly, that her fingernails had been trimmed to neat ovals and polished a shell pink...pretty. The room throbbed with some disparate energy... :Summer King, come to me on the Hill of Fires: "You are growing mortal." My mind leapt, putting out tendrils of cognition that gripped that solemn statement, and something old and hidden flared to life in my soul, *I will be alive again!* But then a door came down, with a deafening thud, and I felt a bottom drop out of something, somewhere.... "What do you mean? That can't be--I'm a vampire! I *died* over two hundred years ago!" "I have seen this all before--" She stopped speaking and pressed the palms of her hands to her temples, and her eyes squeezed shut as if she were in pain... "in dreams, visions, whatever you want to call it!" She took in breath, a gasping sob. "I met you in my visions before I ever knew you, and I wondered why...some young man, not much older than me, but also *immensely* older than me..." Her gaze met mine. "I've seen it all, Lestat; I've seen it all happen, and I *know*--" Her hand wrapped around my wrist, her fingernails digging into my skin, "- -that your immortality is being...*rejected*, sloughed off somehow...I don't know how, or why, exactly. But there isn't much time--that's why your beard is beginning to grow again." I frowned. This was not good at all... What other mortal joys would I experience before I finally shuffled off this terrestrial ball...? Would it be the Body Thief fiasco, all over again.... "An Egyptian queen...her blood and yours, mixed..." Her eyes were wide, gazing at me, not seeing. "But the powers of the two, and one...snuffs the other out...." Her eyes refocussed on me. "Do you understand what I mean?" I nodded slowly, my mind still whirling in the midst of this confusion...surely I had fallen down some existential sinkhole! "Fine...I'm growing mortal." I thought for a moment. "I've been mortal before...I didn't like it, but luckily, it wasn't a permanent condition...." I thought of Louis, refusing me the Dark Kiss, and how we'd argued inside his little shack... I remembered lighting it on fire, and found that I was smiling, even now, in some kind of insane glee... "I can get David or Louis to fix me, and I'll be fine." She was silent, and silent for so very long that I was forced to look up.... She was weeping silently, her big, dark eyes filling up, spilling over...those eyes reminded me of Armand... "No," she whispered, shaking her head slowly, and her long hair, falling over her forehead, her eyes. "Not this time...not anymore." She had dropped this pronouncement into silence, but now I leapt up, roaring like a wounded beast. "How dare you! Who are you, to pronounce my death?! Who *are* you?!" I reached across the table and grabbed the front of her sweater in my fists; I wanted to slam her into the wall, I wanted to snap her neck like a rag-doll's, drain her--- Her aspect shimmered, shifted, flowed like water...the solidity of her form melted down out of my grasp... she was watching me from across the room.... The hair stood up on the back of my mortal neck, and a great trembling swept over me, threatening to spill me to the floor... I opened my mouth, but no sound came out... "It is not for you to know, vampyr..." Her wide, sensuous mouth curved into an ancient smile... "but only I can lead you into rest..." "Don't touch me!" I staggered to the little bed and sank down upon it, my arms wrapped around myself, desperately trying to still the quaking in my bones.... The impossible had finally occurred, the thing that I'd thought I would never have to face... I was going to die. By eight or nine that night, I was hungry...mortally hungry, and I actually ate real food...mortal food. Just a sandwich, and some kind of herbal tea that Vanessa brought, that was all...and then I lay down upon her little narrow bed and thought for awhile. She moved about the room quietly, straightening things up, tucking my clothes away, folding them neatly. Her dark hair was caught in a brass clip, strands of it falling down around her face, her neck... "Come over here," I said petulantly, "and let me drink your blood..." And when she didn't answer me, "Come on! Are you afraid of me?!" She straightened from where she had been bent over a chair, and stared at me. Her face was smooth, impassive; the face of a pallid medieval saint, her eyes dark, huge. "You have to let me help you," she whispered... I swung my legs over the bed and sat up, leaned against the cold white wall near the window. I could see out of it, down onto the street, where people slipped and slid on the slushy snow, the poorly-cleared sidewalks... "I don't even know who you are," I pointed out. "I find you in a church, saying Catholic prayers..." "I am Catholic," she said. "You are not!" I retorted. I drew my knees up, rested my elbows on them. "And this...*shape-shifting* thing you do..." My head swam suddenly, and I closed my burning eyes, rested my forehead against my knees. "I was in that church because I knew that you were there, and it was vitally important that I find you---besides, you were there as well..." I laughed sharply. "Lighting candles," I whispered, "adding to the sum of the light in the universe...a little like God! That's what I always told Louis..." I stopped short. "Louis...I have to tell him--" "You must not!" Her hand was on my arm again, tightly gripping my skin, and when she took it away, I saw that her fingers had left bright red marks... "He cannot help you, you cannot *ever* go back there!" "Who are you to tell me this?!" I leapt off the bed and began pacing the room, shaking again. I realised that it wasn't even Louis I wanted, suddenly; it was Armand! Armand would understand...I ought to call Armand, summon him silently, and she would never know--- "He cannot hear you anymore, this red-haired one." "Tell me how this happened! Tell me what has happened to my blood, that this *thing* has seen fit to invade me, kill me!" I was gesturing hugely, my arms wheeling about as if they didn't belong to me anymore.... I felt a sudden pressure in my lower abdomen and knew (from my Body Thief days) that I had to piss... God damn, I wouldn't give in! "The ancient blood of this Egyptian queen...it cannot marry with your own...it..." Her forehead furrowed with the effort of trying to decipher her own visions. "...takes back its own vampiric quality, as well as your own immortal blood..." Akasha...this is what will kill me, I thought bitterly, and suddenly, I was crying. I crumpled to the floor, felt the hard wood impact against my knees. The tears I wiped away were clear... "She killed me, as well as all those others, with her mad ambition," I sobbed, and when I felt Vanessa's arms go around me, I clasped her as if I were drowning, and I suppose I was... I carried her to the bed, lowering her gently upon it, and my mouth was on her cheeks, her neck, the closed lids of her eyes, her hot, opened mouth... I parted the buttons of her sweater and bared her silken skin, covered each erect nipple in turn with my lips. Her hands were on my shoulders, unbuttoning my shirt, coaxing me out of my clothes, and when her hot lips fastened around the hard shaft of my erection, visions danced behind my closed eyelids: :Summer King, Summer King, come to me on the Hill of Fires!: I felt again the sting of a thousand tiny cuts, crouching in firelight before the wise-woman, working with her knife...I hissed out pain as her artful fingers worked the poisoned woad into my skin, into each of two parallel cuts underneath my eyes... I stood naked before the fire while they streaked my smooth white skin with the blood of a slaughtered stag, and the drums throbbed, immortal rhythm... :King Stag! Come dance with me upon this Holy Hill, before this Beltane fire! King Stag, you see the Goddess in me!: And then whirling madly in the dance, while the drumming rose and fell, bodies leaping through the fires, sound of screams and chants, the smell of sweat, and smoke, and sex... I was lowering her to earth, in the ploughed furrows of our field, I was sliding her slender legs apart, I was impaling the steaming core of her upon this spike of my desire, and all the heavens saw, and sang... :Summer King...: I awoke to daylight. I awoke to daylight and I did not die...do you understand how this feels, after centuries of darkness? I opened my eyes to the cold light of the winter sun, watched it streaming through the half-opened window blinds, felt its distant warmth upon my skin and I did not die! There was no joy in it. Just as it was the last time, so it was again: there was no Raglan James this time, no foolish bargains and falling down in the snow and nearly dying... But I was dying anyway. I shifted in the bed--Vanessa was beside me, curled into me, exhausted from the force of our passions...I had taken her again before sleeping, driving into her warm and willing flesh with a desperation that was very nearly rage as blinded, I came sobbing down against her... I was trying not to think of Louis, but my dreams had been filled with images of him, of all our years together, as well as our years apart, and as one does at times like these, I cursed myself for all the myriad pains I'd caused him, all the times my thoughtless actions had brought him anguish... The quintessential Brat Prince, feckless, chasing after the bright dream, so very determined to be as bad as I could, if that was my destiny... "We must make you ready...it won't be long now." Vanessa's soft voice was still clouded with sleep, and her mouth was warm against my neck as she curled into me...her weight was comforting, her skin a blessing where she pressed against my side. "It's been a long time since you've seen the sun, Lestat." She rolled over and sat up on one elbow, leaning over me. Her long hair fell into her face, obscuring her pretty features, and I reached up reflexively to brush it out of the way, leaned in and kissed her on impulse. Her soft mouth fluttered against mine like a butterfly's wing, and a sudden memory of Claudia squeezed my chest, a mortal pain. I traced her delicate features with my fingers...her breasts brushed against my chest and a keen and sudden lust went singing through me.... "How long...? Do you think...?" I asked her, watching her features carefully. I'd noticed that many of my preternatural senses had left me by now, and I must needs rely upon my long- lost human skills... It had been so very long ago since I'd been mortal (not counting the adventures with Raglan James) and I had forgotten much of it, so much! "We must prepare the Beltane fire tonight." Her palm pressed against my chest as she kissed me. "Tonight!" I stared at her, and a cold thrill of fear went through me, was replaced immediately by my native cynicism: so it was tonight that the Devil would welcome me home, was it? Well, I had better be ready to go.... "You cannot do a Beltane fire in the middle of the winter..." I recalled a distant memory of dancing around and through the flames, this memory melting as it did last night, into passion, the fusing of our desires. "We must! The signs are already appearing--there, on your own face!" Her fingers traced the tops of my cheekbones, lingering on this space just underneath my eyes, and my flesh felt sore at this gentle pressure, as if bruised, wounded... I wondered why. "Go and look!" I swung my legs over the bed, sat up, and was struck at once by my own reflection in the full-length mirror opposite...my heart began to pound, deep within my chest, with its own wet, human rhythm, and I envisioned my dark-red blood as it coursed through my veins. I looked as nearly human as I have ever appeared, and the most human that I have ever seen this face in over two hundred years...there were small lines bracketing my mouth on either side, as well as fine wrinkles fanning out from the corners of my eyes...between my brows, two tiny parallel lines that deepened when I frowned. My skin was no longer pale or wan; instead it was suffused with a mortal colour and my eyes no longer danced in sapphire flames, but were instead a rather ordinary blue... But my cheekbones...my face! This was why it had felt sore, and I reached up now and traced the lines with a finger, watched this unfamiliar face as it winced in pain... There were two parallel lines cut into my skin, one above the other, and sloping with the angle of my cheekbones...each line was drawn in brilliant blue, a sort of pigment that had been worked into the skin... "Where did this come from?" My voice emerged, a dry and crackling whisper, the rustle of leaves long dead... "It is the sign...your ancient existence remembers," Vanessa said quietly. She had come up behind me and was now watching me soberly in the mirror, her hands on my shoulders. "The time draws near to cross into summerland...I must make you ready." She moved past me to get out of the bed, but I pulled her naked body down into my lap, facing me, buried my lips in hers... She felt so good, her skin musky and hot, and I wanted to lose myself in her... I traced the silky, weighted undersides of her breasts with my tongue; warmed my cold, mortal hands in the shallow hollows underneath her arms; pressed my rough-stubbled cheek against the tender flesh on the insides of her thighs... I watched my own expression in the mirror as she gently lowered herself down onto the turgid spike of my desire, watched my hands clutch her naked back, watched her rocking against me, watched my own face transformed by ecstasy... ...watched the Vampire Lestat going away from me, in the mirror, in the mirror.... "This is insane! I'm freezing cold here!" My lower lip began to quiver as another icy blast, a frigid northeaster, sliced through my clothes, coating my bones in ice. Vanessa was kneeling on the ground in front of the small pile of kindling, painstakingly blowing on the beginnings of a fire... The drums beat, in my mind, and the chilly cove with its overhanging mantle of granite disappered... I was forever young, and leaping through the Beltane fires, and nothing could touch me... I jumped, startled, as Vanessa's fire roared to life, bright tongues of flame sparked into being, devouring the dry kindling. She got up off her hands and knees and poked the fire with a longer stick. "Are you ready?" she asked, turning to me. I felt a sudden wave of nausea, and a great queasiness came over me. My knees were weak, and threatened to spill me to the ground... "Whoops! Be careful..." Vanessa caught me by the front of my coat as I began to sway, wrapped her arms around me for a moment. "You're strong enough to do this," she whispered, her breath warm at my ear. "Not if it means that I hasten my own death," I said. The fire cast eerie shadows on the rock walls of the little cove, surrealistic pictures, primitive and strange... Odd that I ought to be frightened now; I would never have been frightened before! The Vampire Lestat would be afraid of very little... But the Vampire Lestat was gone, and in his place stood merely Lestat de Lioncourt, seventh son of a seventh son--- "That's it, isn't it?!" Realisation struck me, a silvery lightning bolt-- "It has to do with that, doesn't it?" Vanessa's hand was gentle on my cheek...I felt her soft fingers rasp against stubble, but I was excited, I didn't care about this impending mortal death! I was certain that something awaited me, something wondrous! "You had certain abilities, Lestat---that would have come to fruition in time, were you not born to darkness...but when Magnus...*created* you anew, these potential futures were lost to you." "And now they have caught up with me," I whispered. Vanessa's dark eyes glowed in the firelight. "Yes," she nodded, "now you see the truth. I saw you many, many years ago, in dreams and visions...I knew your potential power, and I knew what you could become if your talents were correctly tapped..." She turned away from me for a moment and stirred the fire with the toe of her boot. "But Magnus got to you first! And all these potentialities were lost! And the Egyptian queen, with her immense power---" "--called into being all the selves I should have been," I finished for her. "Yes." We were silent for a long time. Vanessa moved to sit in front of the fire, but I remained standing, staring into the flames, remembering... Would I have traded my preternatural birth for a life of ancient wonder? I couldn't answer it... "We must begin." Vanessa rose from her seat before the fire and took my hand. "This will be difficult for you..." Her dark eyes gazed into mine, "and I'm not sure if your crossing will be successful or not...." A shard of fear lanced through me. "What happens if I don't make it?" I whispered. Despite the searing heat of the fire, I was suddenly chilled again. "I cannot say for certain...those who are not admitted into Summerland usually wander for a time, before their energies are dispersed." Her hand squeezed mine. "I will ask the Goddess for sure guidance, but I cannot guarantee...." I nodded. "I understand." A great wave of weakness rose up to meet me, and I dropped to my knees upon the frozen ground...the scene in front of me dipped and spun away from me and I was dimly aware of the snow against my back. The night sky faded away, and I was blind. I heard the sound of drumbeats: low, throbbing, intense. It seemed to rise, rippling, from the belly of the Earth and travel over land to where I was, and Earth itself seemed to undulate within this ancient dance... The ground underneath me revolved and stopped, and I was in a place that I had never seen, but which I knew as well as I know my own immortal soul... This was the Hill of Fires, and ranged around and about me were the figures of those who had gathered to dance the Beltane dances and welcome the high summer sun. The drumbeats picked up rhythm as I listened, and then I was on my feet, I was in the circle, I was clasping sweaty hands in mine and being pulled, around and around, a dizzying spiral dance...the drums throbbed, and the night moaned, and the giant bonfires atop this sacred hill blazed into darkness. Invisible hands clutched at me, plucking, and silken fabrics grazed my naked skin as The Ancient Ones went past... I looked up, towards the starry night sky, and the constellations that were so ancient and so different... A clap of thunder split the summer sky, a bolt of lightning lancing down to strike between my feet, and in that moment of illumination the unseen figures were revealed, ranged about the fires: the Lady, all in Green; and the Lord, King Stag, clad in forest leaves and crowned with magnificent, weathered horns...the soft sussurating whisper went around the circle as the mortal dancers collapsed upon the ground, and other voices, the *Daone Sidhe* took up the chant...the ground between my feet was burned black, the smell of scorched grass rising to my nostrils.... :Summer King, Summer King! Come to me on the Hill of Fires!: The scene around me swirled, all colours blurring into fire and into silence, and when I looked again, I was resting beside a stream in a field of flowers.... I was home. My mortal form had died, and I had crossed into Summerland... The Vampire Lestat was gone. I cannot describe to you adequately my surprise upon finding myself here...this was a place beyond all my imaginings. And I won't insult your intelligence by saying that angels started singing and trumpets blew and cherubs went by on clouds as soon as I crossed over... It's not like that here...here is a place where chronological time does not exist, here is a time where physical place and dimension do not exist. I knew I could not stay here... I drew myself up from where I had been lying, beside the stream, and cupping some of the water in my palms, I drank. The water was cool and fresh, but... ...it was not blood. Do you understand what I am saying? My mortal self had died, but here, in this most gorgeous of supernatural settings, my vampiric self was rising to awaken! I could feel the old blood thirst tingling along my skin.... I wondered if Vanessa knew that I had been successful, and then I wondered what it was I ought to do, now that I was here...but there was no one else in sight, either mortal or immortal, and it appeared that I'd been left entirely to my own devices.... :Summer King!: The whispering murmur whipped my head around, and I stood stock-still, water dripping from my fingers. :Summer King!: Unseen figures went whipping by me; I felt the inexplicable brush of silken cloths against my skin, heard that shimmering whisper, :Summer King: Vanessa was coming over the hill to meet me, but she was not the Vanessa I'd initially met in that church, long ago, in that snowy eastern city... She was clothed in brilliance, and wisdom, and her old aspect (that of my delightful young ingenue) had completely disappeared. I saw her in her true aspect... I am not easily awed, not after more than two centuries of immortal existence, but I was awed now. I could do no more than stare at her as she came towards me over the gently-swelling ground. She came near and embraced me, and for a moment I felt the delicious press of her warm body against mine...her eyes, which had been dark brown at the time of our meeting, were now golden, flickering from within with many fires...her skin was silken, poreless, and I knew that she was one of the great, ancient immortals.... I bowed my head in silence. "You must not bow to me...." Her fingers raised my chin so that I was gazing into her eyes. "I am not your goddess...." My mouth moved of its own volition, and for an instant, I was back with her in the furrows of a ploughed field, and I was lowering her to earth, and I was driving my desire deep into her body. "I see the Goddess in you," I whispered, and a great shard of fear lanced through me---I remembered Akasha's reign of horror. "The Egyptian queen is no more, Lestat--there is nothing for you to fear." Her gentle golden eyes caressed me, but it was a caress of wisdom rather than desire. "Your name is not Vanessa, is it?" I asked, and added, "My Lady..." "No," she whispered, "you are correct in that it is not." "You saved me," I whispered. I felt deeply ashamed...believe me when I tell you that I rarely feel ashamed about anything! "The potential was within you, Lestat...you continued to deny it...and then your chance encounter with the Egyptian queen caused events to spiral together out of time...it was why I was compelled to remove you." "What about---?" "You are still vampyr," she said, and smiled fondly, "I cannot steal from you your true destiny. You are what he made you; even I cannot undo such a deed!" Her hand caressed my cheek, and I noticed that my skin was smooth...I had indeed been reborn.... "You must go back," she whispered. "You cannot stay here, it is not your time." "But I cannot die," I protested, "and so I will never come back here! There is a silken net, that prevents our kind from ever leaving!" Her fingers on my lips silenced me. "There is more than I am permitted to tell, and you to know. I must lead you to the door, you must go now!" Her expression softened, and for a moment, she looked like the Vanessa I had known... "One who loves you waits, and worries for your safety...." I caught her to me and kissed her: a lingering caress, tinged with the hunger of our old desires...but I knew that I'd known her before, and I would know her again... It was the way of the Wheel. "May I know your name?" I asked, holding her hand in mine for a moment longer. The air in front of me shimmered, and a swirling portal stood before me...I knew it was time to go. "I am called by many names," she whispered, and it seemed the whisper was caught up with other voices, all sighing somewhere in darkness... The swirling portal caught me, and I felt myself being drawn through, drawn out of Summerland, and her voice followed me as I went... "I am Dana, and Epona, and Macha...I am Mary, Virgin Mother of God...I am White Goddess...I am Vivienne and Nimue...I am all...." The darkness swallowed me, and I was blind again. "...Absolute madness, I *know* I shouldn't have let him go off on another of these bloody hare-brained schemes! Now look..." "I want some more..." "I like to light a candle, Louis; it adds to the sum total of light in the Universe--" *laughter* "--I feel just like God!" "Don't ask me to do this, I *cannot*!" "Tell me how evil I am; go on, call me the Devil! I love to hear you say it!" "You search for God, you know you do! And I believe you want to know what it is He wants for you to do!" "...tired of listening to your Talamasca bullshit--oh go on, talk! Look, I'm dropping off to sleep!" "I want you...I want you more than anything I've ever wanted in my life..." Night. The cool breeze caressed my face, and I could breathe... There were no harsh northeasterly winds, no snow, no biting cold...My fingers found my cheekbones, and there were no cuts, no blue woad, no magic fires.... Gone. All of it. And here I am... Where? "I think he's waking up." A form crouched over me, blocking out the light, I felt warm breath in my face, the subtle scent of gentlemen's cologne... A hand was placed on my forehead, withdrawn... Another footfall creaked the floorboards: I *knew* these floorboards, I was home! A great wave of joy burst over me, and I sat up.... Home...everything was the same...there was the couch, the television, the phone...there were my CDs, my cassettes, there was a shirt I'd discarded on the chair just a day or so before I'd left... And there was Louis, my precious, my beloved, my immortal darling...the purpose of all my existence... He looked really pissed off with me, I have to confess. "Louis..." He turned away from me. I watched the outraged stiffness of his back as he retreated from me. I heard the front door close firmly, but not slam. Louis has never slammed a door as long as I have known him...he has never had need to. "Louis!" His name dried up in my throat; I felt very near to tears, I felt them gathered in a knot at the back of my throat, but I did not let them fall.... I turned to see David crouched beside me, realised I was lying on one of a pair of couches that furnish my livingroom. "I'm glad you decided to come back to us," he said quietly. He waited in silence for a moment. "Why did he...why won't he come back? What...?" I felt the burning heat in my eyes overspill and trickle down my face, allowed the great, shuddering sorrow to come out in a vehement sobbing... I had wanted only to come back to my Louis, and now he had turned his back on me.... I reached blindly for David and clutched him, sobbing...It is to his credit that he never once reproached me, merely held me in silence. Sometime around three a.m., he left, and I was alone. I paced the house, going first up to the attic, checking; then through the rest of the house: into the unused kitchen, the dining room, the music room where Claudia's harpsichord stood... I ended up in Louis's study, seated at his desk, and I think I was toying with a paperweight of his when I heard the front door click softly open and shut... The cadence of his boots traversed the front hall; I heard him hanging his coat on a hook near the door. I got up from the desk and assumed a position near the window, then near the bookshelf. I was very nervous. He saw me immediately he came into the livingroom--it would have been hard not to see me, as the door of his study directly adjoins the livingroom--and he stood for a long moment, just watching me. He looked marvelous, and I could tell that he'd fed well...his skin was still pale, but glowing from the inside-out, and his emerald eyes sparkled with their own inimitable fire. I watched as his finely-wrought mouth slid open, no doubt to form some verbal caress, some welcome-home... "You son of a bitch!" He launched himself at me from across the room, an astonishing leap, even for our kind. He caught me by the shoulders and slammed me back against the wall, and I heard the dull thud as my skull hit the bookcase. "Louis! Are you insane!?" I tried to sound outraged. He slapped me then, a vicious backhanded smack across the face. His features were twisted in fury, his dark brows drawn together in the center. He was furious. He slapped me again, snapping my head around the other way, but this time I was able to twist away from him, and I brought up my arm to stop him from swinging again. "Let go of me!" I was trembling; I was afraid! He had *attacked* me, for God's sake! *My* Louis had physically assaulted me! I was incredulous. He released his hold on me, and I saw that he, too was badly shaken. I brought my hand up and gingerly felt my face: it hurt. "You---" He pointed an accusatory finger at me, but it was a finger attached to an arm that shook. His expression was angry, but I saw the dark blood-tears trembling in his eyes... I was ashamed. And as I've already told you, I don't feel ashamed very often. But I was ashamed now, so ashamed that I wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide for a very long time...so reproachful was the gaze of those anguished green eyes that I seriously considered going to ground for a century or two... I'm not kidding. I mean it. "Louis--" "--Bastard!" he choked out, and dropped his arm. "Son of a bitch!" His lower lip trembled, and as I watched, he turned on his heel. "Louis, don't go! *please*!" I was after him, and I grabbed him, and spun him around, and it was such sweet joy to *touch* him... His expression hadn't changed. "I love you. Please---" I let go of him. "Don't leave me." I started to cry. I stood there in front of him and wept unashamedly like a child, and I didn't care! Do you understand me? I didn't care, I wasn't ashamed, I wasn't concerned for once with being the victor, with getting something over on him... I loved him, and I didn't want him to leave me. In the next second, he was in my arms...and the second after that, I was kissing him, and the second after that I had loosed his dark hair from its ponytail and his shirt-buttons from their fastenings, and I was running my lips and tongue down the smooth column of his throat, and then I was on my knees in front of him, my face buried in him... *I* was on my knees... ...in front of Louis. What can I say? I love that man.... I immediately took him to bed.... THE END