Louis’ Tale

(Normal disclaimer type stuff…this is only for fun, no infringement on any copyright laws is intended, I make no money from this…)

(Spoilers: IWTV)

The first time I saw her is so fresh in my memory that it could have been yesterday. A tearful angel rushing down a rainy street in Paris towards her apartment. Her blond hair was in damp, stringy coils, her mascara was running and she had broken a heel on her shoe, making her walk a painful stagger. She looked so forlorn, so miserable that my first impulse was to help her, rush to her aid as the gentleman I am so often called. Instead I held myself back, and followed her at a distance, all the way to her apartment.

When she got there, she pushed open the door, sighing in relief at the sight of her warm little flat. As I watched from the street, I saw her rush around, turning on all the lamps in every room. It was as if she needed to be surrounded by light and warmth. My angel did not like cold, rainy nights such as this. Once the apartment was brilliantly lit, she had a long hot shower and, dressed in a silk robe, got out a bottle of champagne.

She drank three glasses in a row, standing right there in front of the fridge. She was obviously drinking to get drunk, and forget some pain in her life. After the third she stood for a moment, unsteady, then slowly poured a fourth and taking only a tiny sip, walked out onto the balcony.

I was stunned, as I saw her surrounded by golden light making a halo of her freshly washed and dried hair. For the first time I saw her exquisite features properly, saw her high cheek bones, wide blue eyes, perfect baby mouth. Surely this was a vision of my beloved Claudia grown into womanhood. Isabella. Her name came to me as if it were whispered in my ear. My angel Isabella. She was looking at me the same way I must have been looking at her, in rapt silence. Neither of us could break the gaze. The moment grew until I felt that I had to say something, or explode.

“Isabella, chère I do hope you forgive me for coming to you like this, it is not the kind of thing I would normally do, but you see, I am quite taken with you. You remind me of a woman from my past-” I paused. I hadn’t meant to say all of that. I felt helpless for a moment, memories of Claudia taking over until I felt like I was drowning. I looked up at her, silently pleading for her help and understanding. She looked extremely puzzled for a moment, then, her face cleared of doubt and she called out gaily,

“Ahh, not to worry, my charming one. Would you like to come up for a talk and a glass of champagne? Perhaps you could tell me who I remind you of?” It was the first time I had heard her speak, and again I had to compare her to an angel. Her voice, even slightly slurred by the champagne was beautiful. I was absolutely delighted to hear it, and could not help the smile from spreading across my face. I was about to accept when suddenly I realised what I was doing. Nothing, absolutely nothing good could come out of a relationship with this woman, no matter how much she drew me. I remembered Lestat’s mortal playthings, Gretchen, Dora. To come close to a human was to harm her in some way, even if it was not by feeding. I had to get away.

“No, chère It is wrong for me to disturb you, I should be going. Farewell,” I bowed to her, as if in worship, and quickly walked off into the night.

I could not stop thinking of her. She plagued my dream’s, images of her mixing with images of Claudia until they were one and the same. “Louis, why do you not come to me Louis?” they chanted together, “How could you leave me again?” I left Paris, hoping that would help, but the dreams only grew more persistent. She haunted my nights. Every golden haired woman was her, every time I heard a woman’s laughter ring out across the night, it was her. I knew that whatever the consequences might be, I had to see her again.

Three weeks after I left her, I returned to Paris. I went back to her apartment and had every intention of going in, talking to her, but at the last minute, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead I followed her around for a week. I was obsessed with her, and obsessed with her not finding out. But one night as I followed her as she walked home from an evening with friends, I could not resist her any longer. I had to hear that gorgeous voice talk to me again, I had to see those blue eyes turned to gaze at me.

I fell into step with her and spoke, “My name is Louis, Isabella, ma chère. I was very rude not to introduce myself during our last encounter. I do hope you will forgive me?” I was sure that these words were horribly polite and stiff, and I thought of Lestat, of what he would have said. I resented him for a moment for his way with words and women. She stopped walking immediately and turned to look at me. At first I could see she did not remember me, then realisation came rushing into her face. She looked so exquisitely beautiful as her eyes lit up that I didn’t even realise that she was speaking.

“…believe I was rather… intoxicated on that occasion. I must have made a bit of a fool of myself. You left so quickly.” I smiled at her, and replied quickly

“Nonsense, Isabella, you were charming. It was I who really has no excuse for leaving so suddenly. But I would like to take you up on your offer now, if it still stands?” I was rather unsure of myself as I said this, not certain at all if it were the right way of going about things. She must have noticed this, for she said softly,

“You don’t do this often, do you Louis?” I thought again of Lestat. He probably never felt a moment of shyness or uncertainty in his life.

“No, never, actually. This is more the style of my friend. He is rather more outgoing then I, I’m afraid. I’m sure he would have come and swept you off your feet with a glance,” Isabella laughed and said,

“I take it your friend is something of a lady-killer?” This shocked me at first, until I realised that it was just some modern mortal phrase. I murmured softly, “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

We had reached her apartment, and so began one of the happiest nights of my life. My first night with the angel Isabella. We talked for hours, me carefully avoiding her questions about me, and keeping the conversation turned on her. I learned all about her life as a model, all about her drug problems and the like. I found out why she had been crying the night I had first spoken to her, it was because she had just come back from a nude photo shoot with Penthouse magazine and it had left her feeling vulnerable and scared.

I feel hopelessly in love with her that night. And I think that is why I told her the story of Claudia. I stood overlooking the balcony and told it to her in the barest terms possible, hardly touching on our years together. Of course, I couldn’t be specific without betraying our vampire nature, but I tried to get across my feelings for her, what drove me to my horrible revenge on the coven.

When I had finished I could see she was shocked. Then, as she stared at me, I saw a different expression come over her face, one of lust. She reached out and embraced me, kissing my cold lips.

Oh, what exquisite torture! You cannot know how much I wanted her, how much I wanted to lower my lips to her succulent throat and drink from her. All of a sudden, I realised what was happening. Here I was with this beautiful mortal girl who I had fallen in love with, and I was about to take her life. I wanted to throw myself into the nearest fire, but instead I pulled away and raised a hand to stroke her cheek. I spoke haltingly, barely concealing my tears.

“Isabella,” I whispered, “You are my Claudia if she had had a chance to grow up! You are my darling in the womanly form so cruelly denied her. I loved you for that, but now, now that I have let myself get to know you, all about you, I love you for you. And it is for that reason that I must leave you for now. I cannot let you get too close to me, for I can only hurt you. Chère. Live your life, and forget you ever had such a visitor as me.” The tears were beginning to escape. I had to get out of there. I kissed her gently on her warm, sweet cheek and swiftly left the apartment, leaving her standing here crying.

The rest of the night is a blur to me. I know I took some poor hapless mortal to feed on with unusual viciousness and cruelty, and forgot to dispose of her body. I crawled into the earth that morning, something I never do, and lay in the cold ground miserably. The next night, I flew home to New Orleans on the first flight I could get.

I wandered around my little shack, but everything I laid eyes on reminded me of Isabella. I kept hearing her angelic voice ringing in my ears, every time I closed my eyes I would see her perfect baby lips form a smile and her eyes would shine at me. I became desperate, and eventually I couldn’t stand the solitude and went to Lestat.

He was sitting in his extravagant palace of a dwelling watching his television when I came. As he opened the door he said exuberantly, “Louis, mon armour, Armand has been sending me more of those ridiculous videos he makes of himself. Look, a whole tape of him reading “War and Piece.” The whole damned thing, Louis! I believe he’s gone insane! Again!” I smiled weakly at Lestat, marvelling as always at his exquisite good looks. Golden blond hair curled its way down to his shoulders, dancing eyes seemed to reflect every shade of blue and grey in the world and a full, sensual mouth was currently occupied with laughing at Armand. I smiled at him wanly.

“Ahh, by the time I am finished with what I have to tell you, chère you will think the same of me, I’m afraid.”

‘What is wrong this time, Louis? Have you been letting your pyromaniac side get the better of you again?” He appeared to find this hilarious and fell about the house laughing, while I stood patiently in the doorway with my arms folded. I learned long ago that trying to bring Lestat out of one of his infamous laughing fits would only cause it to become worse. When I judged that he had calmed down enough I said sternly,

“Are you quite finished, Lestat? I was actually serious, you know.” He looked at me, mirth still written all over his face, his eyes red from tears of laughter.

“Oh, Louis, do you know how cute you are when you’re angry? You know that there is absolutely know use reasoning with me, so why on earth do you try?” I glared at him, wishing I hadn’t come.

“Lestat, you are infuriating, you hear me?” I shot at him venomously, walking past him and settling down in front of the television to watch Armand.

“Of course I heard you, it would be impossible not too, chère, you were standing right next to me.” He came and settled himself beside me, draping an arm over my shoulders. I thrilled at the rare moment of intimacy between us, but remembering why I had come, became morose again.

“Let me turn Armand off, Louis, then you can tell me what is wrong.” Armand’s solemn face disappeared, and was replaced by Lestat’s concerned one, as he turned to face me. “What is the matter?”

I didn’t know how to begin. I was certain that he would laugh at me, call me sentimental and foolish, all the thing’s he usually said to me. I eventually decided to tell him straight.

“Lestat, I have fallen in love.” He looked at me in astonishment, and began stammering something like

“Louis, I never thought…” I immediately realised my mistake and said quickly,

“No Lestat, I didn’t mean you, calm down for heavens sake.” I shot him a hurt look. “You know I love you, anyway, don’t you? Isn’t that a given?” He coloured slightly and sulked.

“Well, who is this other person, then?” he asked. “Let me guess, Armand?” I just shook my head and sighed.

“Lestat, for one of the strongest vampires in existence, you can be a complete fool, you know it? No, it is certainly not Armand, you should have known better then that.”

He looked at me, curiosity and irritation mingling in his eyes. “Tell me, who has gained your affections then, Louise?” I looked away for a minute, then began.

“Remember Claudia was always saying that if she had grown into a woman, she would have married me? Remember you and I used to speculate what she could have looked like if she had had that chance?” Lestat nodded, bemused. “I have found her, Lestat. I have found a woman who could be Claudia 15 years older. She has it all, the curly golden hair, big blue eyes, baby mouth. Hell, Lestat, she even has Claudia’s voice. Perfect, she is completely perfect.”

Lestat looked shocked, and then thoughtful. “Louis,” He started “You haven’t gone to this woman and told her these things, have you?” I looked away guiltily.

“Well, yes and no. I told her about Claudia, but I didn’t say a word about what we are. We spoke for hours, Lestat. I think I really do love her..” I let my voice trail off, memories of that night threatening to drown me.

“Louis, you must not see this woman again.” Lestat’s stern voice cut through my reverie. I looked at him in shock. He had his stubborn, “do not argue with me” look on his face.

“But why?” I asked, “Lestat, you do not understand. I love her. She can give me all those years that were so cruelly denied me-”

“She is not Claudia, Louis! Claudia is dead, she is dust, and no matter what resemblance this woman has to her, she is not Claudia!”

I was stung. I thought he, of all people, would understand. I was about to speak again, but he got up and cut me off.

“So she look’s like our little doll, so she sounds like her, but how can you love her just for that? What is her name, Louis?”

“Isabella,” I replied sullenly, Lestat started pacing the floor in front of me.

“Isabella then. This Isabella has hopes and dreams of her own. She has a family, friends, a life, Louis! You cannot expect her to become a doomed child who lived well over a century ago. She does not need to become Claudia in your eyes, she is Isabella! If you love her Louis, love her for being who she is, not because she stirs some memories of Claudia in your mind. She certainly does not need that, in fact, you could destroy her if you treat her as such.” Finally finished, he sat down next to me again and commenced glaring at me.

I was shocked to say the least. I had hoped that he would understand, maybe even give me advice, not this all out attack. And he had it wrong, so very wrong!

“No Lestat, you don’t understand. Her looks drew me to her, but her personality made me love her. She is lost in this world. She feels vulnerable, naked. She is hurting, like I constantly hurt. She needs someone, someone who can understand her. I can understand her. You are wrong, I do love her for her. I sing her name like an angels song, Isabella, not Claudia, as you say. And I love her.”

Lestat sighed and closed his eyes. “And they say I am the reckless one,” he murmured. “Louis, you truly love this woman?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I don’t know how I can make that more clear.” He nodded, then said,

“Then you have to tell her what you are. No, don’t argue, you know it’s the truth. She needs someone stable, someone who can love her unconditionally. You cannot deceive her, Louis. You know it as well as I do.”

“No Lestat. I can’t tell her. I love her, but I can’t tell her.” Lestat looked at me gently, then, to my utter surprise, drew me to himself and kissed me.

“Louis,” he whispered into my ear, “My sweet, innocent Louis. I can see your dilemma, oh yes, I can see your pain. But you simply have only two options. Tell her what you are, or never see her again. You may think I am a monster for telling you this, but I am only the one who would not see you hurt. Go to her, tell her, and if she is strong enough in her love for you, she will accept. Or else put all thoughts of her aside and let her live her life undisturbed.”

Before I could stop them, tears had escaped my eyes and were flowing down my cheek. I knew he was telling me this out of love. No smatter what we have said in our past, we loved each other with our entire hearts. I did not know if what I had told him was hurting him. Yes, I loved him, but Isabella…No matter. He knew.

“Lestat, I don’t know if I can do these things. I just want to be with her, is that so much to ask?” He drew away and looked into my eyes.

“I am not your master, Louis. I do not posses you, though you know I would love to.” I let that comment slide, “But, I would never let you get hurt. You know that. I tell you these things because I love you. Make your own choice, I am simply giving you the best advice I know.”

I nodded, and after embracing him once more I stood and walked to the door, “I’ll think on it, Lestat. I promise,” he smiled up at me and said softly.

“I’m going to lose you to her, aren’t I?” I froze. I didn’t know what to say. “Lestat, I… you know that I love you, I …”

“Don’t worry, chère I know that I have never been a fit companion for you. Go to your mortal.” He looked so wretched as he said this that I rushed back and held him in my arms.

“Lestat, I will not go to her if it means hurting you. I couldn’t.” He stroked my cheek softly with his fingertips and said,

“Who am I to deny you anything? You have never been truly happy with me, Louis. If this Isabella can give you what I never could, and I had a hand in that, then that would be enough for me.” All this was said in the most seductive whisper as he trailed his fingers down along my jaw line, slowly down my throat, then finally letting them rest upon my chest. I was melting in his arms, praying that he would kiss me again, and dreading it at the same time, for I was sure that I would collapse if he did. Without me realising it, the tears had come again. Lestat moved his face right in front of mine, then started to lick up the blood like a cat. No, more like a tiger. He kissed along the trail his fingers had made moments before, but when he reached my throat I felt his teeth pierce me and he began to drink. I would have collapsed if he had not been holding on to me. I went limp in his arms, and he carried me to the couch and lay me down, still feeding.

“Oh, Lestat, I could never hurt you,” I whispered. He looked up at me, blood staining his lips,

“I know,” he whispered “Now go.” I stood up shakily. Knowing it would be the best thing to do, but resisting all the same.

“Louis, unless you want me to ravish you here and now, I would suggest you leave.” I saw the hunger in his eyes, and wisely followed his advice.

All the way back to my little shack my thoughts swam in confusion. Lestat, Isabella, Lestat, Isabella. He was forcing me to choose, and after giving me a taste of what he could be like, he had warned me that I would get no more if I chose Isabella. But he had encouraged me to go to her! I could not understand him, one minute yes, one minute no, one minute declaring his obvious passion for me. I didn’t know what to think. So I fed, and didn’t think at all.

Two nights later, I got a note from Lestat asking me to go and see him. As soon as I showed up at the door it opened and he spoke.

“She knows.” I looked at him, aghast. He was pacing the room with a smug smile on his face. Dread slowly filled me.

“Lestat, what have you done?” I asked angrily. He looked at me innocently and said,

“I’m afraid I let my passions get the better of me the other night, Louis, I think I may have turned you to the wrong path. I think that you and this woman is an excellent idea, and since I know that you would never have done it, I’ve taken the liberty of letting her know the truth..” My face boiled.

“Lestat, how dare you! Must you always interfere! You had no right, absolutely NO right to tell her this, and you damn well know it!” I could see it was getting me nowhere. Lestat didn’t look the least bit repentant, in fact, he seemed to be enjoying my anger.

“Ahh Louis, my love, I’ve told you countless times that there is no use scolding me, though you do it so well.” Laughter danced behind his eyes. “I would suggest you go to her, she is no doubt in a hell of a lot of confusion right now, and wishing for a certain dark haired Creole gentleman to come make every thing better!” the laughter escaped, and once again he fell about the room, laughing at my expense. Well, this time I was not going to wait it out,

“Lestat, you are a complete fiend, you know that! You think you can play around with other peoples lives as if they are there merely for your own amusement! Damnez-vous à l'enfer, vous bâtard d'intervention!” I spat at him spinning around and leaving. I could hear him still laughing from out on the street. I flew at once to Paris.

The truth was, while I was angry with Lestat, I was also extremely hurt. “I let my passions get the better of me” he had said. I felt like I had been used, that all he’d said about loving me and not wanting to lose me had been a lie. Well, he had just made my choice for me. I was going to Isabella.

She was sleeping when I got to her apartment, her dreams filled with images of my book. I realised what Lestat had done. He’d sent her a copy of the book! A quick search of her apartment revealed that not only had he sent her my book, but all of his, as well, plus a patronising note, all but outright calling me a fool. I was furious, and had to go and feed before I could approach Isabella.

I returned at around three o’clock, and immediately went into her room, gently calling her name. She awoke quickly, and upon seeing it was me, rushed straight into my open arms. How could I have ever stayed away? How could I have thought that she wouldn’t believe in me, or else condemn me? I could see in my eyes that not only did she know what I was, but she still loved me for it. “Isabella, Mon amour” I murmured into her hair, “Vous êtes vraiment un ange.”

She looked up at me with her huge blue eyes. “Louis, I love you. I loved you from the moment I first saw you. Please, never leave me again. I beg of you.” Her words nearly broke my heart. I wanted to hold her in my arms until the end of time. And so began our romance.

I lavished attention upon her. Anything she wanted, or could possibly want was hers. Some nights we would go out to operas, even fashion shows, for her sake, and some nights we would just stay in, reading or talking together. I tried not to notice the looks of lust she sometimes gave me. Sexual pleasure was the one thing that I could not give. I think I tried to make up for it by giving her everything else.

For some weeks this went on, I forget how long. I was totally lost in happiness, happiness that I had never truly experienced before. Even all thoughts of Lestat were taken from my mind as I revelled in my life with Isabella. I think we were happy together for about four months before she asked the question that ruined us. Four months of bliss destroyed by a simple question. But you see it was the all important request. And it was a request that I could not, would not grant.

“Louis, would you ever give me the gift?” she purred into my ear one night. At first I thought she was joking. She knew how I felt about the matter, we had discussed it countless times, and never had she expressed the desire to become immortal.

“Isabella, darling, you know that I could never make another vampire. I would not do that to you, or anyone.” She nodded, a slightly troubled look in her eyes, and went back to the book she was reading. That was all I heard about it for about 2 weeks. But then she brought it up again.

“Louis, will you still love me when I am old and wrinkled and bear your little dolls face no more?” she asked one night at the opera, leaning towards me and whispering into my ear, “Will you still take me to the opera when I cannot walk by myself, and have to be pushed around in a wheelchair?” I closed my eyes. I could see where this was going. But surprisingly, she let it drop there, and we watched the rest of the opera in silence. But when we got back to her apartment, she started again.

“Louis, what do you do with an old and tattered doll? You throw it away, do you not?” she said to me. I shook my head.

“No, chère, I treasure it and take care of it, and make sure it is well loved.” Her eyes narrowed at this.

“But how do you know, Louis? Your last doll never got a chance to grow old, did she?” She must have seen the pain in my face as she said this, for as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked as if she regretted it. She rushed over and embraced me.

“Oh, Louis, I am sorry, that was beyond cruel. Can you forgive me?” I sighed, and ran my hands through her hair. Such sweet innocence I held in my arms.

“Of course I forgive you, Isabella. You know that already.”

But the next night, it was the same.

When I arrived at her apartment, she was staring into a silver hand mirror I had bought her. She didn’t look up when I crept up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. Instead she said,

“Louis, exactly what features do I share with Claudia? For I want to know which ones will go first.” She looked up at me, almost spitefully, “My eyes, they’ll get wrinkles, Louis. They’ll fade from the dark blue they are now, you know. And my skin, it will not always be so smooth.” I shook my head and went to slump on the chaise. Why now? Why did it have to start now? She walked over and stood in front of me.

“Take a good look, Louis, for I will not be this young and beautiful forever!” she hissed “unless you make me what you are!” I stood up and glared at her.

“Isabella, you know that I love you for who you are, not because of your looks! I will love you forever, but I will NOT MAKE YOU ONE OF US!” She backed up, her eyes wide with fright as I yelled at her. I couldn’t bare to see the hurt and fear on her face, but instead of going to her, comforting her, I just left.

That was one of the most foolish thing’s I’ve ever done. If I had stayed with her, calmed and reassured her I might have been able to get this idea out of her head, make her see that I truly valued her. But instead, I left her to her insecurities and fears, and only made them worse.

It continued on like this for weeks. The fights got worse and worse.

“Why do you want to see me grow old and die?” She would scream at me, “How many other girls have you done this to? Am I just a plaything for you? Just a toy to throw away? I hate you, Louis! I hate you!” I would hang my head, tears soaking my cheeks as I tried to explain that she had it all wrong. I knew that she didn’t hate me, that she all but worshiped me, but those words ate at the core of me, hurt something deep inside. Why couldn’t she understand? I could never, ever make another of our kind. I would not bring her into our hell of a life. I would not damn her like that.

Then one night, it just got too much to bare. I truly believe that I drove her mad. She was paranoid and obsessed with old age. I could still feel her love for me, but it was covered with her fear of growing old and dying. Every night it was the same thing, screaming fights, hysterical sobbing. My poor Isabella was completely out of control. I eventually decided that the best thing to do would be to leave her.

It broke my heart to do it, of course. The whole situation broke my heart. I had truly thought that she would be strong enough to withstand the temptation of the gift. But she was not strong enough, and she gave into madness. I went back to Lestat.

I don’t know why I went to him. It was as if I were admitting my defeat, telling him that I had chosen wrong. I felt like I was giving in, as always, to Lestats indomitable will. And that, I hated to do. But I was lost, and broken, and deeply hurt by my experience, and really had no where else to turn. I always go to Lestat like this. When I am hurt, lost and empty, he attracts me like a blaze in the night. He is the only one who can warm me.

I showed up on his doorstep, looking ragged and worn out. I had practically been crying non-stop since I had left Isabella, and the blood tears had left a huge ugly stain on the collar of my shirt. He opened the door, but upon seeing it was me, just turned and went back into his living room to continue watching his movie (I believe it was The Cube, a disturbing surreal study in human nature, which I personally abhorred)

“So, my errant lover returns at last, eh? How is your charming little plaything, Louis?” I detected a strong touch of venom in his voice, which had me feeling confused. He had practically orchestrated our relationship!

I sat down next to him, and though I tried to hold it in, I started weeping again. I was furious at my-self for showing this weakness in front of Lestat. He turned to look at me, and I saw the shock and sorrow on his face when he realised that I was crying.

“Louis! What is wrong? Oh, ma cher, what is it?” his worried tone only made me worse. He held out his arms and held me for a while as I sobbed into his beautiful silk shirt.

“Isabella…” I choked out, “she...”

“Yes? Louis, what on earth happened?” I took some time telling him the entire story, but eventually I got it all out. He sat next to me, sympathy showing in his blue-grey eyes.

“Oh Louis,” he said softly when I’d done, “you truly are the prince of misery, aren’t you?” I smiled weakly and replied,

“It’s better then being the brat prince, is it not?” he grinned mischievously

“Oh, I don’t know. At least I get to have some fun!” we laughed together a bit, but thoughts of Isabella would not leave my mind, and I began to turn melancholy again. Lestat noticed, and sighed.

“Louis, you know that I could have told you that this would happen, don’t you? Mortals just can’t handle us. It is to much for them to swallow, as they say.” I looked at him accusingly.

“But it was you who wanted me to go to her!” I exclaimed, “you sent her the books, and that note! What, did you do this on purpose so that I would be hurt?” Lestat looked at me so reproachfully, that I wanted to take it all back at once.

“What was I to do, Louis?” he asked, “I saw how miserable you were! No amount of warnings would have stopped you going to that girl. Hell, I even tried to seduce you to stop you from getting hurt, but that didn’t work, did it?” Ah yes, the venom was back in full force now. And I was furious.

“So that’s what that was all about?” I asked coldly. “You didn’t truly want me, but you didn’t want me to go to Isabella either?” I got up and started pacing, “All that ‘I could never make you happy’ bullshit while you were kissing me, that was all a lie?” he looked miserable as I said this, but I didn’t care. “I love you Lestat!” I yelled, ‘and you would deceive me? Lure me in with kisses only to cast me away? What would you have done if I had chosen you? Played with me till I was over her, then told me it was just a lie to keep me away?” Now it was his turn to jump up. He grabbed my by my shoulders and forced me to look at him.

“I was trying to stop you from getting hurt, Louis! I was doing it for you! I was doing it because I care about you!” I stared into his eyes, then a hope began to fill me.

“Is that the only reason, Lestat?” I asked softly, barely daring to speak the words. He looked away. I could see the struggle in his face as he said the words I had longed to hear.

“No, Louis.” He whispered. “I truly wanted you to stay. I couldn’t bare the thought of you leaving me for some mortal just because she bore the face of Claudia. I love you, Louis.”

I was speechless. He had actually said it. After all these years, he had admitted that he needed me, that he loved me.

“Really?” I asked in a small voice, hardly believing him. His grip on my shoulders turned into an embrace.

“Really,” he whispered into my ear. I sighed with happiness, and sank into his arms. He started kissing my ear, gently, almost hesitantly. I moved into the kiss, and suddenly he had turned my head and was giving me the softest, sweetest kiss on my mouth I had ever had. We had kissed before, but always it was Lestat taking it from me roughly. This time it was giving and pure and gentle. I pulled away, gasping,

“Lestat…” I moaned, trying to free my-self from his embrace.

“Shhh, Louis,” he murmured, and pulled me back to him, nuzzling his face into my neck. At the first bite, I was in a swoon, but he pulled away to quickly, leaving me wanting more. “Come, Louis,” he said, gently tugging me down to the ground. We lay together on his thick carpet, in front of his fireplace. Slowly, reverently, we undressed each other, enjoying the strange gentleness and intimacy that had sprung up between us. Once unclothed, we lay holding each other closely, entwining our legs together. He lowered his head again, and when he began to drink, I was in ecstasy. This, this was what I wanted, what I had always wanted. And thoughts of Isabella left me completely as I lay with the one I truly loved.

Lestat and I were happy. For a time, anyway. I still had thoughts of Isabella in my head, I still felt love for her, and sorrow. Of course I felt guilty about leaving her in the state she was in, but every time I mentioned that perhaps I should go to see her, Lestat would discourage me, saying it would be the worst thing possible for her, that I should just let her heal. I believed him. For truly, I did not want to leave him, not now when things were finally so perfect. But, as I said, thoughts of her were never far from my mind, and I think that is why I convinced Lestat to go to Paris with me, almost two months after I had left her.

“Why on earth do you want to go to Paris, Louis?” Lestat asked me suspiciously. “You’re not planning on going to Isabella are you?” I shook my head,

“No, no, Lestat, I think you’re right about letting her heal on her own. I just wanted to see Paris again, that’s all.” I flashed him a smile, “I’ll be with you the entire time anyway, I won’t be able to sneak off without your knowing, will I?” he looked at me, still uncertain for a while, before agreeing,

“Very well, Louis, if you want to go to Paris, then we shall go to Paris.” And so we went.

But staying in Paris hurt more then I thought it would. Every street, every café, every theatre held some precious memory of our time together. After about a week, Lestat was getting sick of my melancholia and suggested we leave. We were sitting in our hotel room, the furthest one we could find from Isabella’s apartment, and I was about to agree when very distinctively I heard her voice calling my name. I spun around, trying to find where it was coming from, but quickly realised that it was in my head.

Lestat’s eyes narrowed. “What is it, Louis?” he asked, almost angrily. He was watching me intently.

“Isabella! She’s...she’s calling me, Lestat! In my head!” Lestat snorted at this, but I noticed he wouldn’t look at me again.

“Nonsense, Louis. Pack your things, we’re leaving tonight.” But I had heard her voice again, calling my name in panic. I felt tears rush to my eyes, she was in danger! She was hurt!

“Lestat, I have to go to her! She needs me, she’s hurt, Lestat!” I was desperate, listening to her voice in my head. Lestat grabbed my arm.

“Louis, we are leaving, you hear me? Pack your stuff now!” I stared at him in shock,

“You can hear her to, can’t you?” I accused. Again he couldn’t look at me. He let me go, and started packing my suitcase for me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. But I didn’t believe him.

“You can hear her! You’re trying to keep me from her!” I yelled at him in disbelief, “She might be dying, and you’re keeping me from her!” He spun around, and grabbed my arm cruelly,

“You leave her, you hear! You let her die! I want her and your thoughts of her out of your head!” he snarled. My eyes widened.

“She is dying?” I whispered. “Oh, God, how?” He didn’t answer me. “HOW!” I yelled at him. He let go of my arm and walked a few steps away from me.

“She is in her bathtub. Her wrists are slit. She’s been there for quite some time.” He shrugged, “She is slipping into unconsciousness. She won’t last much longer.”

My blood went cold. How could he tell me this so coldly, so clinically? Suddenly, my mind was wrought with images of Claudia. Again I heard her screams as she was dragged from my arms. I had been helpless to stop her death, but I would save my Isabella.

“Take me to her,” I demanded coldly. Lestat shook his head.

“Let her die, Louis. She is beyond saving anyway.” I was in a rage. I couldn’t believe he was doing this, standing there as if nothing was wrong.

“TAKE ME TO HER!” I roared advancing on him. “Listen here, you bastard, if you ever truly loved me, if you ever wanted me to be happy, you will take me to her now.” I narrowed my eyes, “If you let her die, Lestat, I swear I will never speak to you again, I will never see you again, you will not even know that I exist!” He looked amazed, then hurt.

“You would actually choose her over me again? You would do that to me?” I couldn’t believe my ears. He was insufferable! And the pleas from Isabelle were getting weaker. She was dying.

“Lestat, take me to her now, or I will never, ever forgive you. I will hate you for the rest of my life!” Lestat looked monstrous in his anger for a moment, then before I knew what was happening, he had grabbed me roughly and we were flying over Paris. I concentrated on Isabella’s cries, mentally wishing her strength, praying she would hold on until I got there. But now the images of Claudia were taking over. My mind was chanting ‘I must save Isabella, I must save Claudia, I must save Isabella,’ until they were one and the same.

All of a sudden I felt myself being dropped in front of Isabella’s apartment. I looked up to see Lestat hovering above me.

“Go to your plaything,” he hissed, “but there is no way to save her unless you make her a vampire, Louis, and mark my words, if you do that you will live to regret it!” With that he was gone. I didn’t care. My mind was in a frenzy as I raced inside, into her bathroom. My heart stopped as I saw her laying naked in the bloody water. So much blood, how could she possibly be alive?

And still the images of Claudia clouded my mind. I couldn’t let her die again! I had to save her, and I knew that there was only one way left.

I lifted her out of the tub, and laid her on her bed. She opened her eyes and said weakly, “I thought you had left me, my love. I thought you had left me to die…” her eyes fluttered shut. She was close to death. I still couldn’t define between her and Claudia, and in my confusion I sobbed,

“My Claudia, I will not let you die again.” I bit into her neck, taking in all that I felt safe. She was almost dead when I finally slashed my wrist, letting the blood flow into her open mouth. Her eyes snapped open, as she sucked my blood with all her strength, which was dramatically increasing. Slowly she sat up, and when I judged she was done, I pulled my wrist away. She was looking at me intently, and I noticed something strange. The new vision seemed to mean nothing to her. When the pain of her mortal death came to her, she ignored it, though I could see in her eyes that she was hurting. She just kept staring at me, and the love flowing out of her for me was immeasurable. And I knew in my heart, that I loved her to.

Suddenly, though, realisation came upon me. What had I done? I hung my head in guilt and sorrow as I realised that I had broken my own number one commandment. I had made another vampire.

“Forgive me, Isabella, oh please forgive me the great evil I have done you. Forgive me, for I can never forgive myself.” I sobbed brokenly. Isabella took my hand and shook her head,

“Louis, how can I forgive you for giving me something I begged you for? Don’t be sad my love, rejoice, for I am yours forever now.” She said, stroking my hand. I wasn’t sure if she realised that I had called her Claudia, if so, thank God she hadn’t mentioned it.

I took her out to hunt, trying to teach her, guide her, but she merely took the first convenient victim, drained him and threw him away. It seemed that nothing mattered to her whatsoever. The new vision, the killing, her strength and powers, she barely noticed them. She had what she wanted, me and immortality, and that was all she cared about Whenever I would try to teach her about some aspect of her nature, she would only sigh, and say,

“But Louis, I don’t care! Don’t you see? I will be young, and beautiful, and yours forever, that is all that matters. I will kill so that I live,” here she gave a shrug of her shoulders, “but that is a necessity, nothing more. The new powers, the strength, they are but by-products. It is what it all means, that matters.” She continued on like this, only constant in her love for me. Cold and remorseless, she was, in every other aspect.

And so Lestat’s words came true. While I still loved her, would always love her, I regretted more then anything giving her the dark gift. All of her beautiful, fragile personality, all that had made her human, had disappeared. And the ironic thing was, that now she was even more like my little Claudia. In my eyes, she was no longer a beautiful, radiant living angel, she was a cold angel of death, mechanical, living for nothing but me.

Soon after, I left her again. It hurt me so much to look at her, to see what she had become. I saw her occasionally, of course, when I could find her, but rarely did I go out of my way to seek her out.

I didn’t go back to Lestat. This time, no matter how wounded I was, his blaze couldn’t warm me. Indeed, my candle for him had been blown out by his cruelty, and would take a long time to be re-lit. I love him still, but my pride and anger will keep me from him for a long time to come.

And so things go on much the same. I am alone again, often lost in my books, occasionally thinking of Lestat, often thinking of Claudia, and always thinking of my romance with Mon ange tombé Isabella. And through the cold, the hurt and the despair, I know that it is not over between us, for ours is a love story eternal.

Louis de Point Du Lac, 2000