DEMONS IN THE DARK
An After Spec
by Laura Ann Troise (Louis) and Lisa Hall (Lestat), 1995
Talset@eskimo.com and Ladybd@hotmail.com

WARNING:  This spec contains specific spoilers to Mick and Susie's
version of Memnoch.  It is *highly* recommended that you read it
before reading this.  This spec also contains language some may
find offensive as well as sexual acts.
 
OFFICIAL STATEMENT:  This is a non-profit, amateur effort and does
not intend to infringe upon the rights of Anne Rice, Random House,
or any other copyright holders which we may be unaware of.
 
**********
 
NIGHT ONE
 
--Lestat--
 
	I bolted awake, screams filling the twilight.  My voice or
Louis'?  I didn't know.  Not that it mattered.  Screaming, they
sounded the same.  The next howling wail shattered the air, filled
with the hopeless despair of one who had nothing left to lose.  Ah,
Louis' voice then.  My screams echoed only in my heart.  The sound
poured over my raw nerves like acid.  Reaching out to wake Louis
I saw that my hand trembled, like an old man.  "Wake, beautiful
one." I whispered.  "Wake and be with me."
	Another scream tore from Louis' throat, driving a dagger into
my heart - I knew what was coming and hated it with everything in
me.  I tried to brace against it, but there was no escape. 
"Lestat!  Lestat!  Help Me!"  And finally "LESTAT!!"
	I knew this would be the last before the death sleep released
him.  My name was always the last.  Then Louis flung himself from
the bed, crashing into the far wall to land in a trembling heap on
the floor.
	At once I knelt beside him, but did not touch.  I had learned
quickly that to touch Louis, as I so longed to do, might provoke
another series of screams until the nightmares faded from him
completely.  Or worse, Louis might react mindlessly to the arms
around him.  The new dresser against the wall was ample proof of
that.  Louis had propelled me through the old one some time ago.
	"I'm here, Louis.  I'm here.  You're home.  You're safe."
	Over and over I whispered the words, Louis gradually calming
enough for me to risk extending my hand.  I had almost grasped the
cool white shoulder when Louis seemed to convulse, doubling into
a ball.  Then suddenly he was in my arms, great heaving sobs
wracking his body.  "Make them stop, Lestat.  Please, make them
stop!"  He whimpered like a child, hands clenching into fists
against my skin.  "I love you, Lestat.  Please make them stop!"
	I held him, stroking his hair, my own tears mingling with his. 
Gently rocking back and forth, I whispered first in French, then
English, but the message was always the same, choked out over the
ever increasing feeling of helpless rage.  "I'm here, Louis.  I'm
here.  You're home.  You're safe."
	Eventually the trembling stopped and Louis lay limp and
exhausted in my arms.  I hated myself even as I cradled him, for
this calm moment was always my favorite part, if "favorite" is the
proper term.  He could not deny that he needed me, not now.  He
could not deny that I helped him, that I was doing something to
help fight against the nightmare visions, if only for a moment. 
In some small way, I made a difference.
	Finally I attempted to slip my arms under him, to carry him
downstairs as I had so many times, but he pushed me away and stood
on his own.  "I'm... over it now, Lestat." he said.  "It's over. 
I think I need some time."  Without another word he shrugged into
his discarded clothing from the night before, turned and left the
room.  Moments later I heard the front door close behind him.
	The back of my head thudded dully against the wall as I closed
my eyes against a fresh wave of frustration.  My arms ached with
the need to hold him while my fingers twitched with the need to
break something.  I knew I could do neither, but entertained myself
briefly with the mental image of the dresser strewn about the room
in tiny splinters - glass covering the floor.
	Eventually I stood and dressed.  I hunted quickly, more for
the comfort of the warm blood coursing through me than from hunger. 
I returned home at once, wanting to be there when Louis came back. 
To my mounting frustration he did not return until just before
dawn.  For a tense moment I thought he might refuse me when I slid
into bed next to him.  But finally he turned into me, allowing me
to put my arms around him.  I drifted to sleep not sure who was
trembling, him or me.  One of us was.
 
NIGHT TWO
 
	I bolted awake.  "Lestat!  Lestat!  Help Me!"  And finally
"LESTAT!!"  It was as though we were trapped in a time warp, an
endless loop.  He called for me, screamed my name, begged me to
help him... and once again I was forced to watch him attempt to
pick up the pieces alone.  Again Louis left almost at once to hunt. 
I couldn't bring myself to even leave the house.  Instead I sat
before the fire, willing myself not to think, to simply lose myself
watching the flames.
	  This couldn't continue.  He was well aware of his history;
he knew that to keep the trauma of the dreams locked away would
simply cause them to get worse.  But in the last few days he had
seemed to regress to a state similar to his return, perhaps even
a bit worse.  And after three years of fighting them he and I were
both totally exhausted.  Never in my life had I felt so defeated,
not against Akasha, not against the body thief.  But Louis'
suffering had utterly beaten me.
 
--Louis--
 
	I walked around aimlessly, endlessly, the memories of my
victim that night quickly forgotten only to be replaced by the ever
increasing despair that filled me. 
	What was happening to me? 
	Every day my nightmares--though I find it an understatement
to call them as such--get worse and every night I must suffer
through both the memories of the day before and the fear of the
day to come. 
	And what an unnatural thing it is, to fear sleep.  Sleep
should be that which makes us stronger, gives us solace to face
what is to come. But there is no such comfort for me.  Nor can I
reverse the process, take my waking nights as my time of strength
to face my dreams for my nights are filled with the horror of the
effects of my dreams which in turn fuels my dreams which in turn
fuels my nights until I have turned and turned and turned and
completely lost myself as though the very pieces of my soul are
torn from my body in this neverending downward spiral. 
	But best not to think of that.  Best not to think of losing
myself for then I must face the vision of my past self.  The self
who appears to me in shining new clothes with a shining new smile
and who moves from activity to activity so quickly and with such
obsession that I can picture the red dancing shoes on his feet,
forcing him on to his inevitable destruction. 
	Forcing him... forcing *me*. 
	Ah, but it is not just me now, is it?  No.  There is also
Lestat.  My ever vigilant lover who watches for any sign that I am
in danger and who has found too much familiarity in the ritual of
soothing me after I wake and in trying to fight those demons which
he cannot reach but who can find me all the same. 
	And what am I to do?  I cannot face my nightmares alone, yet 
neither can I allow myself to make these demands upon the man I
love and who needs my comfort as much as I need his.  This is
taxing him far too much for anyone's safety, including his. 
	But I don't know what to do. 
	I find that I am standing still.  I look up and see that my
footsteps have led me home.  Home to Lestat once again.  And as I
stand there I know that there is nowhere else I want to be and that
I want nothing else than to go inside and have Lestat hold me and
tell me that everything will be alright even though he cannot begin
to fully know what it is that troubles me. 
	A wave of exhaustion overwhelms me and I make my decision. 
I go inside to him, but put a clamp upon my fears.  I must not let
them get out of control as they did before or it will be the
downfall of us both. So long as I have that control, I can face
him. 
	It is only the thought of losing that control which terrifies
me now. 
 
--Lestat--
 
	Who knows how much time had passed?  A sudden noise drew my
attention, and I looked up to see Louis standing in the doorway. 
He looked as weary as I felt, and at once I opened my arms to him. 
He stretched out next to me and for the first time that night I
felt myself begin to relax.  The world seemed a much better place
when Louis was in my arms.  I closed my eyes, sighed deeply, and
felt myself begin to drift.
	I noticed the cold first, the damp chill which went straight
to the bone, and I shivered.  I was so cold!  As though I hadn't
fed in days.  Blinking rapidly, I tried to bring my surroundings
into focus.  The room was dark, even to my superior vision.  No
windows, walls of stone.  The dull gleam of metal caught my eye,
and I saw a massive table in the center of the room.  On it,
glinting now and again, rested weaponry of every shape and size;
knives, whips, even a flail, reminding me of my mortal days when
I went to hunt the wolves.  The walls - there were chains on the
walls.  It suddenly made sense.  I stood in a torture chamber.
	Turning slowly, I scanned my surroundings.  The shadows
darkened, lengthened, then one seemed to leap out at me.  Someone
was chained to the wall, hanging lifelessly, the weight of the
painfully thin body supported by thick cuffs at the wrists.  I
couldn't quite see...  Moving with maximum stealth I approached
the skeletal figure, his blood soaked hair hanging around his face
like a matted shield.  Angry red welts crisscrossed his body in a
pattern I felt I should know...
	The poor devil made the slightest movement, raising his head
slowly, painfully, and I froze.  For just the briefest of moments
our eyes met and I gazed into the emeralds I knew so well...
	It was common for me to wake to the sound of screams.  It took
me a few moments to realize that these screams were, at last, my
own.
	As if from a great distance I heard Louis' voice, calling me
over and over.  It was his voice that drew me from the horror of
the vision, his voice that I clung to like a lifeline.  "Louis?" 
I finally whispered, my voice raw.
	"Lestat, what happened?  Can you tell me?"
	I looked around in surprise.  When I had drifted off we had
been sprawled on the sofa.  How had I gotten on the floor?  Against
the wall?  "I had a dream."
	He smiled gently.  "So I gathered.  Do you remember what it
was about?"
	I looked into his eyes, identical to those in my vision. 
"No." I lied, the pain ripping into me.  "I can't remember.  I want
to go to bed now."
	I stood on legs that still shook, slightly, and headed
upstairs.  I stripped of my sweat soaked clothing and climbed into
bed.  At once Louis curled around me, holding me tightly until the
dawn filled the sky.  My thoughts were troubled, and for the first
time I dreaded sleep not for the scene we would have upon waking,
but for what might await me during the daylight hours.
	Perhaps this was madness at long last.  Perhaps I had finally
fought beyond the level of my endurance.  I was still shivering
when sleep claimed us both.
 
NIGHT THREE
 
	I awoke disoriented.  Something wasn't quite right.  I looked
over to where Louis slept, his breath coming in quick gasps.  "no."
he moaned quietly.  "please... not like this..."
	A new dream?  A new nightmare?  I knew he suffered from
variations, but all along one of three central themes - the wall,
the temple, and the sun.  This was new.  "no..." he moaned again,
and I reached out to caress his hair from his face.  "Juliano...
don't!  Please!  We didn't..."  He gasped and bolted awake, staring
wildly around the room, searching for someone.  Juliano perhaps?
	"He's not here, mon cher." I said quietly.  "Juliano is dead. 
It's just me, now."
	He shook his head, still searching, until he finally
understood where he was.  "Lestat."  He blinked rapidly, then
smiled.  "At least we're not on the floor this time!"
	"That was new." I commented.  "Was it a new dream?"
	He looked away.  "No, I've had it before."
	"Which one was it?"
	Clearly he didn't want to discuss it.  "I was chained to the
wall..."
	It was as though cold water had poured over me from the
heavens.  Until that moment I had forgotten my own nightmare.  I
abandoned my questions at once and fought for calm.  Louis needed
me, and I had little enough strength for him anymore.
	"Come on." I said, ignoring his small sigh of relief.  "I need
to hunt."
	After feeding I felt much better.  I returned home moments
before Louis walked in.  He spirits seemed improved as well, and
I thought that perhaps the worst was behind us.
	"So, what shall we do tonight?" I asked brightly.  "Movie? 
Dancing?"
	"Snuggle."
	The warmth of his smile melted into me.  "Well, if you
insist."  I drew him into my arms and kissed him, keeping it light,
teasing him.  Then we headed back to lounge before the fire,
cuddling.  I felt ridiculously safe and happier than I had in
days.	Nestled against him, I listened to the quite thrumming
of his heart.  The light of the fire bathed us with warmth and
peace, and I found myself wondering, as I finally drifted off, how
a nightmare could possibly find us in such a serene setting.
	Louis' heartbeat suddenly increased, not so much in rhythm,
but in volume as the fire danced before my eyes.  I blinked
rapidly, trying to clear my fogged vision.  The beat grew ever
louder, shaking the stone walls themselves with the power of the
drums.  The amphitheater seemed to have been carved from the bowels
of the earth, bonfires and torches the only source of light.  The
air was thick with the stench of sweating, unwashed mortals,
sickening sweet incense floating in clouds above us.
	In the heart of the amphitheater lay an altar, shaped as a
pyramid, with rows upon rows of steps leading to the flat top. 
Mortals swarmed the steps, and the theatre itself, but the altar
itself was curiously devoid of activity.
	As though responding to an unseen signal, the throng grew
silent, clearing a path up the stairs to the altar.  Figures
appeared through one of the arched doorways, moving slowly through
the crowd and finally up the stairs.  A chant began, soft at first,
but then increasing in intensity until it drowned out even the
drums.  "MEMNOCH!  MEMNOCH!  MEMNOCH!"
	They were dancing now, moving with wild abandon, and above
them all Juliano gave his hideous benediction, beckoning for a
small clump of people to come forward.  I was still too far away
to see for sure, but I thought I could make out a tiny figure
struggling between them.  That of a child...
	Furious motion erupted at the base of the altar, torches and
worshippers alike tossed aside like ragdolls as a desperate figure
attempted to gain access to the altar.  At once I moved, trying to propel
myself through the crowd, but to my horror I seemed mired in quicksand. 
What should have been a journey of seconds became nearly impossible.  I
could only watch as Louis was captured and the little girl thrown into the
flames.  Louis' voice slashed into me.  "Claudia!" he screamed as the
mortals swarmed around him, holding him.  I saw them strip Louis' garments
away, exposing his pale skin to the fascinated gaze of the faithful. 
Juliano drew his own knife, carving a wound deep into Louis' inner arm. 
He was already bleeding from a scalp wound, but this sent a small river of
blood down the altar steps.  But the worst was yet to come.  Inertia
trapped me where I stood, my vocal cords clenched tightly by a brutal,
invisible fist.  I watched helplessly as Louis was carried to the altar
and surrounded by over a dozen of the fiends, all of them with knives
drawn.  I choked out a moan, deep in my throat, pulling at my leaden limbs
to the limits of my strength as the knives arched down... and suddenly I
forgot to breathe... Impossible!  I heard Louis' voice in my mind. 
:Lestat!: he cried out as the knives plunged into him.  :Lestat!  If I
ever needed you, Lestat, if I ever loved you, please hear me!: 
	I saw the priests swarm over Louis, drinking from the open
wounds, and screamed...  "NOOOOOOO!"
	I was awake.  Some part of me knew it.  And yet I felt myself
trapped in the temple.  If I tried I could still smell the incense
clinging to my skin.  I heard Louis calling me, saying my name, and
immediately I responded.  "I'm here!  Louis, I'm here... for the
love of God... I'm here!"
	"I know you're here, mon cher." Louis whispered comfortingly. 
"Of course you're here!  You're in my arms, safe again."  I could
hear the sad smile in his voice as he held me tightly.  "Who would
have ever thought nightmares were contagious?"
	I said nothing.  All I could do was turn into his embrace,
clutch him to me as though my life depended on it.  Mon Dieu... I
hadn't known.  The little girl... he never told me.  The knives,
the rape afterwards, yes.  But Louis had deliberately omitted the
death of the child, sparing me that particular horror, bearing it
alone.
	I suddenly stilled, and Louis looked at me, the question plain
in his expression.  But I simply shook my head and stood, feeling
a need to move.  I didn't go far, choosing to pace before the fire. 
Had there actually been a little girl?  Or had I, in fact,
internalized so much of Louis' story that I had begun having
nightmares myself, incorporating my unending guilt over Claudia
with my fresh guilt over Louis?  Were these hellish visions his,
or my own?  I had to know.
 
--Louis--
 
	I watched as Lestat moved back and forth as though he were
caged like the very lion he appeared to be.  I remained on the
couch, caught in a nauseating sense of deja vu, knowing that this
was the same scene that has been played out between us for months
upon months, only now it was Lestat who was upset and I who had to
find the words to help him through it. 
	"Was it very bad?" I asked. 
	"Yes," he said, tersely.  There was a slight movement in his
hands and I knew that he was fighting the urge to break something. 
	"As bad as mine?" I asked, hoping to distract him from this.
	"You had a nightmare as well?" he stopped his pacing long
enough to look at me. 
	I hadn't been referring to that when I spoke, but I could not
lie to him. 
	"Yes," I said. 
	Another flicker of movement in his hands.  "Which one?" he
asked. "The sunlight?" 
	"No," I said.  "It was the Temple.  The Sabbat." 
	"Ah," he said, thoughtfully.  "Where Juliano proved that he
was insane once and for all." 
	There was a strange note of certainty in his voice when he
said this, but I do not know why or how. 
	"How do you mean?" I asked him. 
	He shook his head dismissively, then continued pacing.  "You
know how I mean," he said.  "When he attacked you like that, with
no provocation at all." 
	I closed my eyes and the memories of that moment played before
me in a sickening slow motion.  "He had provocation," I said
softly, mouthing the words more than actually speaking them. 	
	Lestat looked at me sharply.  "What do you mean?  What provocation
did you give him?" 
	I pressed my hand to my forehead.  "Lestat, please," I said. 
"I... I'd rather not discuss this." 
	"No," he said.  He stood before me.  "I think we should
discuss it, Louis.  Maybe this is why your dreams have become as
bad as they have, because we've been trying to avoid them.  And
that is too much like what we have done before for me to be happy
with it." 
	There was a look of both fear and concern in his grey eyes. 
I sighed, knowing what "before" he was referring to and the thought
of it frightened me as much as it did him.  But I was slightly more
frightened of Lestat's reaction should he find out the full content
of this particular dream.  I struggled to find a way out of this. 
	"What happened, Louis?" he asked. 
	I settled on a half-truth.  "He attacked me because I attacked
one of his priests," I said, hoping that it would be the end of it,
but knowing that it wasn't. 
	He paced a bit more, then leaned against the mantle of the 
fireplace and stared into the fire. 
	"Was that all?" he asked.  Once again there was that note of
certainty in his voice, as though he already knew the answer and
my giving confirmation of it was only part of a dance that we were
both caught up in and helpless to stop. 
	"Lestat--" 
	"Was that all?" he said it more firmly this time, enunciating
each word with a particular force that only Lestat could give. 
	"No," I said, dread filling me as I saw the outcome of my
words. 
	"What?" 
	I swallowed hard, knowing that I could not hold this back from
him any longer. 
	"He... burned a child," I said.  "A little girl.  I tried to
get to her in time."  I closed my eyes painfully.  "I couldn't."
	There was an excruciating silence before I heard Lestat take
in a hissing lungful of air. 
	"God DAMN!" he yelled, his words deafening.  Anger filled his
every movement and his eyes turned murderously cold as he looked
for something to take his emotions out on. 
	"Don't you dare!" I said, getting up from the couch. 
	"What?  Dare what?" he demanded, clenching his hands into
shaking fists. 
	"Don't you dare do whatever it is you are about to do," I
said. "Don't you dare make this about Claudia or about your guilt
for making her or about anything else that has to do with you!  It
has *nothing* to do with you!  It has nothing to do with anything! 
It is a terrible, horrible thing that happened to *me* and the only
thing I want is for it to have never happened but it did and there
is nothing that either of us can do about it!" 
	"Louis--" 
	"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said.  "I'm going
to bed." 
	I turned on my heel and left the room.  Lestat made no attempt
to stop me.  I'm not sure if I was happy about that or not. 
	In any case, I was alone in our bedroom for quite some time. 
I readied myself for sleep, then lay down under the covers, hating
the fact that this was yet another night that the day would come
without Lestat and I being intimate together.  I wiped away tears
of frustration, knowing that even if Lestat appeared to me right
then and there, there wasn't enough time for us to be together. 
The sun was about to rise. 
	I heard the sound of his footsteps, then the sound of the door
closing and being secured.  The bed moved under his weight as he
removed his boots, then slid under the covers with me. 
	"I'm sorry," he said, kissing me on the shoulder. 
	For what?  I wanted to ask him, but his voice had sounded so
contrite that I didn't have it in me to hurt him that way.  When
I did not reply, he moved away from me so that I would not have to
feel him lying against me. 
	It was only then that I remembered. 
	"Lestat?" I asked, not turning to look at him but still with 
concern. 
	"What?" 
	"Your nightmare.  I never--what was it about?" 
	There was a long moment of silence. 
	"I dreamt," he said softly, "that someone was hurting you." 
	"Oh God," I whispered.  "Oh God, Lestat, I didn't know.  I'm 
sorry.  I'm so sorry." 
	The sun was rising now and I could feel my limbs turning to
lead but I forced myself to turn around blindly, searching for him. 
It was with relief that I felt his arms around me as he pulled me
close. 
	"I'm sorry," I said again, or tried to. 
	"I know," he replied, the words sliding into my thoughts as
the last ray of sun hit the earth and I lost hold of myself
entirely.
 
DAY THREE
 
--Lestat--
 
	Had it not been for my vampiric nature I would never have
found rest that day.  I fought the death sleep which might lock me
into another nightmare - another shared vision of hell.  Even
though I had been with Louis (with few exceptions) every night
since his return, I had no idea just what strength had been
required for him to go on.  The very thought of facing another
dream filled me with a dread which nearly defied comprehension.
	With Louis wrapped securely in my arms once more, I succumbed
to the rising sun, trying my best to brace myself for what might
lie ahead.  But nothing could have prepared me for what awaited.

 
	At first I thought I was safe, or at least armed with the
knowledge of what was to come.  This was a dream I knew - I had
seen it before.  Back in the dark chamber of horrors, Louis again
chained to the wall.  But almost at once I knew I was mistaken. 
This was a different Louis - no, a different dream.  Unlike before,
the Louis before me was well fed and had recently bathed.  Only his
eyes remained the same, filled with a numbed detachment which iced
the very air around us.
	When the white-robed priests entered the room Louis fought
them.  I cheered, leaping with vengeful glee.  He was captured, of
course, and as I attempted to lash out at them, to tear them away
from him, I felt the lead weight descend upon me again, slowing my
lightening fast reflexes to a crawl.  They dragged him from the
room and it was all I could do to follow.
	Back to the altar for a token ceremony - Juliano lording above
Louis, demanding his capitulation.  I watched, again filled with
wordless pride as Louis fought, this time with words.  On his
knees, facing the death of yet another child to the flames, Louis
effectively told Juliano to go to hell.  From my vantage point on
the altar I jumped up and roared in triumph.  And it suddenly
occurred to me that I *could* jump and cheer.  No one took any
notice of me, but I was suddenly free to move!  My limbs were light
as they dragged him from the altar, the fear within me momentarily
replaced by savage joy.  Louis had won!
	Then I saw the courtyard, and I suddenly understood, with
sickening certainty, which event was being remembered.  I tried to
scream but found I could not, my throat and my limbs once more held
tight in the dreadful fist.
	Worshippers stood at a distance as Louis was tied to stakes
in the courtyard, Juliano tearing the clothes from his body. 
Naked, facing certain death as dawn filled the sky, Louis still
maintained an outer appearance of calm dignity.  Watching him I
felt tears begin to run down my cheeks, fierce pride filling me. 
What a magnificent creature is Louis de Pointe du Lac!  Mon Louis.
	I was startled to find I was able to move again.  There seemed
a correlation between the height of my fear and my inability to
move, but I had little time to ponder this.  As the sky became
flame, Louis turned his head slowly, succumbing to the onset of
sleep.  Then, once again, his voice filled my mind, bringing me to
my knees.  :Lestat!  Is it that you can't find me, or is it that
you will not come?:  His voice was agony to me, and yet I couldn't
shut out his words.  :I love you, Lestat, more than anything, don't
you know that?  I only wish I could tell you.  I only wish I could
see you.  I would have that one wish, before I die, if I could have
anything.:
	The world dissolved in flame.
	Even so, the worst was yet to come.
	Louis got his wish.  He saw me before what he thought was his
death.  I watched the vision unfold as though, well, in a dream. 
Dreaming of a dream within a dream - the focus of my thoughts grew
hazy and I fought to pay attention to the events unfolding.  As is
often the case in dreams, the scene shifted without warning, to
that of a cemetery.  Louis knelt before the tomb of his brother,
and I noted with dull surprise that it was, in fact, full day!  How
beautiful he appeared to me, the sunlight caressing his face and
hair.
	A blond haired, grey eyed apparition appeared before him.  I
will not call it by my name, though it looked like me and spoke
with my voice.  In hatred, this demon denied ever loving Louis,
said that he had only used him for his own selfish ends.  And then
the devil, full of contempt in the face of Louis' love, turned his
back and walked away.
	I could not move, speak or breathe for the pain piercing
through me.  I watched the rest of the dream in numbed silence. 
Claudia, ah, yes.  It would be, wouldn't it?  Claudia appeared,
malicious as the fiend who had preceded her, to lead Louis into
the very pit of hell.
	When I awoke it was to the sound of Louis' screams.  And I
suddenly understood what they meant.  He cried out my name, yes. 
But he was not calling *me*.  He screamed for the apparition from
the dream, the one who wore my face, begging him to come back and
to love him once more.
	The blood in my veins was ice as we went through the ritual
of calming him.  One thing I knew for certain.  There was no way
in hell he was going out alone again.
 
NIGHT FOUR
 
--Louis--
 
	It had already been my plan to stay at home.  My latest
nightmare had no influence on that decision.  But Lestat's concern
did.  Despite our arguement the night before, there was no trace
of anger or resentment in him as he comforted me from my dream 
Once again he was behaving selflessly and once again I was not
giving that to him in return. 
	But traces of my nightmare lingered and I worried that Lestat
would not let me walk away from it.  I needed to find something
that would give me time enough to think without troubling Lestat
in the process.  Finally, I found a comfortable median. 
	"I'm going to work on my computer," I told him.  He nodded,
looking as though he wanted to say more, but remained silent. 
	Though the computer Lestat had bought me was a laptop, I
preferred to work on it while at home.  It didn't take long for
Lestat to make alterations to the room adjoining our grand library
so that I had a computer room all of my own, complete with the
privacy that came from having its only door lead directly to the
library itself. 
	It was to this room that I went, intent on the purpose of
writing more of my experience of the past three years.  I hoped
that it would give me the relief that it had given me before.  It
was the only work which I did on my computer and Lestat knew this,
which is why he accepted my decision without complaint.  We both
knew that, while often traumatic, my writing helped me more than
it hurt. 
	However, hours later, I found myself staring at a blank
screen, the result of many aborted attempts to start.  I could find
no one time to focus on and certainly nothing which rivaled my
current predicament in importance or urgency. 
	Tired, I lay my head in my hands.  I could not put my
nightmares out of my mind.  Only now it was worse because Lestat
was becoming affected as well, the very thing I had hoped to avoid. 
Sadly, my behavior had only succeeded in making him worry about me
more. 
	More than anything I wanted to change that.  I wanted Lestat
to have a night of peace.  More to the point, I wanted it for
myself as well! 
	I laughed, suddenly, thinking of this for it only then
occurred to me that there was nothing stopping us from doing so,
only the fact that I had locked myself up in this room. 
	I closed my computer with a snap and walked over to the door. 
As I opened it, I caught a glimpse of Lestat lunging for the couch. 
He quickly grabbed a book and opened it, pretending to read the
page that he was on.  So he had been hovering outside the room all
this time. 
	All the happier for having decided to be with him, I walked
over to the side of the couch and lightly tapped him on the
shoulder. 
	"Am I interrupting you?" I asked. 
	"Not at all," he replied.  "Why would you think that?" 	
	"Well, you seemed rather intently focused on that Table of 
Contents." 
	"Louis, I'm surprised at you.  Don't you know that next to
the chapters and the title page, the Table of Contents is the most
important part of the book?" he grinned at me. 
	"You forgot the publisher's information," I said, returning
his infectious grin as I sat down beside him. 
	"I'm not too fond of that," he said, putting the book down.
	"I see," I said.  "So, how long were you waiting out here?"
	For a moment it looked as though he was going to continue with
his bluff, but then he replied.  "Not long." 
	I sighed.  "Lestat, I wish you wouldn't worry about me." 
	"How can you say that?" he asked.  "How can you know how I
feel about you and still say that?" He grew sober.  "Something's
bothering you this much and I can't do anything to stop it.  Of
*course* I'm going to worry." 
	"Yes," I said, "but I don't like that it's bothering *you*
this much." 
	"I want you to be happy, Louis," he said.  His voice became
soft, less than a whisper.  "I couldn't walk away from you, even
mentally, knowing that you were like this.  You do know that, don't
you, Louis?  I could never leave you.  I love you too much."
 	"I know," I said reassuringly, curious as to why it was so 
important for him to tell me this right at this moment.  I caressed
his cheek with my fingers.  "After all, you're here now, aren't
you?" 
	"Now and forever and forever," he said.  He settled back in
the couch, making more room for me.  I took the chance to nestle
closer to him.  "But first we must rid you of these terrible
dreams." 
	"I don't know, Lestat," I said, resting my head on his
shoulder. "I'm starting to wonder if I am supposed to be rid of
the dreams at all. Perhaps they are something that cannot be
conquered." 
	"I can't accept that," he said.  He put his arm around me. 
	I smiled.  "You never were very good at accepting defeat, were
you?" 
	"Lucky for you," he said.  "Or I'd have given up on this 
relationship *long* ago." 
	I laughed.  "As would I, I imagine.  And you are correct, I
am lucky to have you." 
	"That's not exactly what I meant." 
	"That's alright, it's exactly what I meant," I said.  I leaned
forward to kiss him.  I had intended to simply brush his lips with
mine, but once having done so, I could not stop myself.  As though
moving with one mind, we pulled each other closer and lost
ourselves in the sweet embrace. 
	"Mmm," I said when our lips finally separated, however barely. 
"I've missed that." 
	"Have you?" he asked.  He threaded his hand through my hair
and stroked it gently. 
	"Yes," I said.  "It's been too long since we've been together
like this." 
	"It's only been a few nights," he said, so that I would not
feel as badly as I did. 
	"That's still too long," I told him.  I closed my eyes and
quick visions of my nightmares flashed before me, but only as
reminders of what had kept us apart.  Determined not to dwell on
this, I turned my attention back to Lestat.  He had stretched his
legs out so that he could rest his feet on the coffee table.  I
moved closer to him and ran my hand down his stomach, hip and
thigh, enjoying the feel of his well-sculpted body underneath my
fingertips. 
	"Interesting," I said. 
	"What is?" he asked. 
	"The things that still matter to us, even though they
shouldn't," I said. 
	"For instance?" 
	"Right now, for example.  I am sitting here, admiring your
muscular build, even though that no longer has anything to do with
your actual makeup.  Besides, it is your blood that I will
ultimately want so it would follow that the only muscle I *should*
be interested in would be your heart.  Why would I, as a vampire,
care about anything else?" 
	"Well," Lestat said, "my form does suggest that of a healthy,
young mortal man.  And that is everything that should attract you
as a vampire, don't you think?" 
	"Perhaps," I said.  "But that isn't what I think when I look
at you this way." 
	"And what do you think?" he asked, a smile playing about his
mouth. 
	"I think about how strong you are, even though your shape has
nothing to do with it," I said.  I got up from my position on the
couch and moved over so that I was sitting on his lap.  I undid the
buttons of his shirt and ran my hands down his chest.  "I like to
look at you and imagine your strong arms around me, holding me
tight." 
	"Oh, Louis," he whispered.  He kissed me then, even more
deeply than before.  "I've missed you so much." 
	"Make love to me," I said, my voice as soft as his.  "Take me
upstairs and make love to me.  I want you to kiss me and touch me
and drink from me and I want to feel your mind and mine together
until the sun rises and tears us apart." 
	"It won't do that, beautiful one," Lestat said as he lifted
me from the couch.  "The sun will not take you away from me." 
	*Mon coeur,* I thought.  *If only that were true....*  
 
--Lestat--
 
	I lifted him in my arms and held him to me for a long moment,
immersing myself in the simple feel of him.  His happiness seemed
complete when we finally made love.  My emotions got the better of
me, and we lingered much longer than usual, until we were both
begging for release.  It was the first time in days I had seen that
expression on his face - that of serene contentment.
	Finally, sated, Louis drowsed in my embrace.  I stroked his
hair, watching his lashes flutter against his cheek.  Never before
had I felt so close to him, so willing to lay everything on the
line for the man I held in my arms.  If only I could!  If only
there was something I could do!  If only I could change the dreams,
somehow, so that he would look as he did now.  To take the terror
away from him forever, and replace it with that blissful
expression...
	I froze.  Then my hand clenched reflexively, causing Louis to
stir in his sleep.  Immediately I forced myself to relax, lest he
wake.  But even as my body calmed, my mind raced at a fever pitch. 
The solution - there before me.  I had been traveling in Louis'
dreams constantly of late.  What if I *could*, in fact, change
them?  Replace the nightmare visions with those of love and
contentment?  Could I really do such a thing?  Did I dare?
	I felt a nauseating mixture of weariness and exhilaration. 
At long last, I had a battle plan.  I had an enemy to fight... or
rather, I now understood who my enemy was.  Not Juliano.  Juliano
was very dead.  My enemy lay in my arms, sleeping peacefully.  For
him, because of him, the fight was at long last joined.
	Even as I thought this, some small part of my mind recoiled
in horror.  To change the dreams from pain into pleasure, from
terror to ecstacy, I would have to be subtle (I could be subtle
when I had to, but I didn't enjoy it).  Even worse, it would be
necessary to use everything I knew about Louis against him.  It
would be painful for both of us.  Did I have the strength to
actually do this?  To hurt Louis so badly that he'd actually start
to fight again?  Fight for himself finally?
	I was frightened.  *That* was the nauseating feeling, lurking
within my heart like a treacherous beast.  I was selfish.  I didn't
want to go through with this.  I didn't want to even think it.  But
what if it worked?  Desperate, I felt the deathsleep creeping upon
me, and sent a furtive, foolish plea to whomever might be
listening.  "Please don't make me do this!  Or at least give me
strength...  Please let this work..."
	I drifted to sleep.
 
DAY FOUR
 
	I looked down, seeing again Louis' sleep filled eyes in the
oncoming dawn.  But as my focus widened I saw we were in the
courtyard.  The sun dream!  Again!  But not like last time.  No
slow build up this - Louis mind had leapt to the heart of the
matter.  The sun was rising, he had but minutes before the burning
began.	
	Louis turned his head slowly, his movements filled with pain. 
And as before, I heard his voice, ringing clearly in my mind. 
:Lestat!  Is it that you can't find me, or is it that you will not
come?  I love you, Lestat, more than anything, don't you know that? 
I only wish I could tell you.  I only wish I could see you.  I
would have that one wish, before I die, if I could have anything.:
	I took a deep, calming breath, concentrated my will, and
spoke.  "Your wish is granted, mon cher."
	In spite of the dawn, his eyes snapped open.  "Lestat?" he
gasped.  "Lestat?  Is that you?"
	"Of course.  You called me, I came.  Do you think I could
resist a call like that?"
	"Help me Lestat!"  He was hysterical, thrashing now against
the bonds.  "Help me!  The sun!  It's coming!"
	"This is your dream, Louis.  You can stop the sun, if you wish
it."
	He seemed not to hear me, and he doubled his efforts, the
ropes at his wrists and ankles biting into the tender flesh,
drawing blood.  "LESTAT!  THE SUN!"
	The world dissolved in flame as he screamed.
 
--Louis--
 
	I do not know at what point my scream ended and an awareness
of my new surroundings began.  It was not a complete change but
rather a gradual one, so gradual that I was not even conscious of
it happening until it was over. 
	That I was now vertical was the first sensation that came to
me. No longer lying outside, waiting for the light of the sun, I
was instead chained against the stone wall just as trapped as I
was then, only now in a new setting. 
	A stab of fear tore through me as I remembered the sunlight. 
Why had there been no beginning to the dream?  Why had I gone
straight to the heart of it?  Was this a new twist of horror for
my dreams?  Would I no longer be allowed the small relief of
bracing myself for what was to come and instead be forced directly
into hell?  If so, how many moments would I be given before Juliano
appeared before me, cursing me for Luis' death and  driving his
knife into my shoulder? 
	But even as I thought this, it did not feel right.  Somehow
I knew that this was not the same room that I had been chained in
when that had happened, for all that I was chained in the same
manner. 
	No, not even that.  It was not the same manner.  There were 
differences, subtle, but noticeable.  Not entirely good changes,
but neither were they entirely bad.  It was almost as though some
sort of barter system had been set up where for everything done
that was good, an equal action was done that took it away.  For a
healthy, fed body, there were stronger, still unbreakable cuffs
and chains.  For removal of the dirt that coated me, the marks that
had been made on me from all of the knives were as fresh as they
could be without actually bleeding.  For the warmth that filled the
once-cold prison, I had no clothes covering me.   And for relief
from the sunlight, all around me was impenetrable darkness. 
	There was a noise, suddenly, and I realized that I was not
alone in the room and perhaps had never been. 
	"Who's there?" I demanded, fearing that Juliano would be my
answer. 
	"C'est moi, Louis," came the familiar-voiced reply.  "C'est
Lestat." 
	"Lestat?"  For a moment hope surged in my heart.  Then I
remembered the 'Lestat' who appeared to me each time that I was
left in the sun.  I couldn't face that, not again.  But neither
could I deny that, like the room, there was something different in
this as well.  "Lestat, is it truly you?  Is it?" 	
	"Of course it is," he said, his voice closer now.  And then
I felt his arms around me and his mouth over mine and I knew that
this was no vision.  "I'm right here, Louis.  I'm with you just as
you want me to be." 
	"Why can't I see you?  Lestat, why--"  My heart began to
pound.   I knew that he was there, I could feel him next to me,
but I could not see him and with terror I realized that the
darkness around me was not because the room had no light, it was
because I could not open my eyes. I began to fear that I had been
wrong; for sunlight, substitute blindness. 
	"Shh," he whispered.  "Easy, Louis, easy.  Don't be scared. 
Just relax.  Then you'll be able to open your eyes.  Just relax,
beautiful one.  Relax." 
	He continued on in this manner until my heartbeat slowed back
to normal and I found, without even purposefully testing it, that
I could open my eyes once more.  I looked up at him then, looked
at the one who stood before me and at his gorgeous mane of blonde
hair, his generous mouth and his warm grey eyes and knew that yes,
this was my beloved Lestat.  He was even dressed in a white silk
shirt and black leather pants, an outfit which pleased me to see
him in the most. 
	"Not just that, Louis," he said, as though he had read my
thoughts. "This is a very special outfit.  This is what you chose
for me the first time that you and I ever did this.  When the
daylight did not tear us apart and we appeared to each other not
just in flashes of pictures or emotions but as we really are." 
	"You mean, it is really you?" I asked.  "You're actually here? 
You're real?" 
	He laughed and kissed me.  "Oui, beautiful one.  I am real. 
Well, as real as I can be, in a dream.  And I am far more real than
any of your nightmares ever were." 
	"Oh, Lestat," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.  It
was too much.  To have gone from the torture of the sunlight to
the warmth of Lestat's embrace was beyond comprehension and
everything I had ever prayed for.  I kissed him then, passionately
and as though he was the very savior that I thought him to be.  He
responded in kind and I began to feel almost drunk from the
pleasure.  "Take the chains off, Lestat," I told him, speaking
around our kisses.  Reminded him rather.  I knew that it was too
much like him to get caught up in the idea of love making to the
point that he would forget the obvious obstacles in his way. 
	"I will," he said.  "Soon." 
	I laughed, thinking it a joke, and responded in kind.  "No,
my handsome one.  You must take the chains off of me or else I will
not be able to show you how very, very glad I am to see you." 
	"Plenty of time for that later, my love," he said.  He kissed
me harder still and it was only then that I realized that he had
been serious.  I turned my head away sharply, breaking the kiss. 
	"Lestat, take the chains *off*," I said again, making it clear 
that I would not listen to any argument. 
	"I will," he said.  "Soon.  I promise.  But first--" 
	"No.  There is no 'but first'.  You will take these chains
off of me now!  Tell me that you will take them off now!" 
	Lestat stepped back from me, but remained silent. 
	"Lestat!"  Still he did not respond.  "Lestat, answer me! 
Why won't you do this?  Why won't you free me?  Lestat, please,
take them off!  I can't stand it!  Take them off of me, please!" 
	I was babbling, I knew it, but my fear was unstoppable.  The
cuffs at my wrists and ankles seemed like living entities, holding
me down, keeping me trapped forever in this dark, personal Hell. 
I struggled violently, like a madman, no longer conscious of what
I did or said. 
	"Louis!  Louis!"  Lestat shouted.  He grabbed me, pushing me 
against the wall in an effort to make me still.  "Louis, stop it! 
You're only hurting yourself!  Louis, you're hurting yourself!" 
	As though by magic, I finally felt the pain that I had
inflicted on myself in my futile attempt to escape.  Exhausted, I
leaned against Lestat, pillowing my head on his shoulder, sobbing
uncontrollably. 
	"What's happening?" I asked him.  "What's going on?" 
	"Hush," he said gently.  "You're upset, that's all.  You're
scared, it's more than understandable." 
	"Is it?" 
	"Of course it is," he said.  I felt him take in a slow, deep
breath.  When he continued, there was some unidentifiable
difference in the sound of his voice.  "After all, look at how you
are.  You're a prisoner.  Those chains keep you from doing even the
most minor thing for yourself.  You are forced to be dependant on
whoever is around you to take care of you." 
	There was a tightness in my chest.  "Lestat, stop.  Don't say
anymore." 
	"Think of it, Louis, there is absolutely nothing that you can
do.  You're trapped.  Completely, utterly and totally helpless." 
	I moved back, not wanting to touch him anymore.  "Lestat,
please. I can't bear to hear this." 
	"True," he said.  "But you can't do anything to make me stop
now can you?" 
	"Lestat!" 
	"You are dependant on whoever is around you and the one who
is around you now is me," he said,  He took my chin in his hand
and made me face him.  "I can do anything I want to, Louis.  I
could hurt you, leave you or even kill you and you won't be able
to do a thing about it. 
	"And that terrifies you, doesn't it, Louis?  Do you know why? 
Because you have no control.  That's your greatest fear, isn't it? 
That's what this dream is about.  That's what all your nightmares
have been about.  You're so scared of losing control that you'd
lead yourself right into your own grave rather than give it up." 
	"That's not true," I said, but even I knew that I was lying.
	"I can't let that happen," Lestat said.  "I won't let you kill
yourself this way.  You can't keep your control forever, Louis. 
It will be lost, that is inevitable.  That's why your nightmares
have been getting worse, your control is slipping away from you. 
You have to give up that control and I'm going to make sure that
it happens now, while I am here, and not while you're alone with
no one to help you." 
	"No!  I won't let you do this!" 
	"You have no choice." 
	"No!" 
	"Yes!" he said, shaking his hand a little to emphasize the
point. "This will happen, Louis.  But you must trust me.  Why does
it frighten you so much to depend on me this way?  Don't you know
that I would never hurt you?  You must give me that power over you,
but know that I would never use it against you!" 
	"You cannot do this, I will not let you do this to me!  I do
not want you to do this to me!"  I began to struggle in my bonds
again with an even greater effort than before.  When this did not
work, I tried to free myself enough to strike Lestat. 
	His response was quick.  Within seconds I was pinned to the
wall, my entire body held prone by him. 
	"You have it in you to like this," he said.  "You wanted it
once, remember?  You were a young mortal man and I was the vampire
who stole into your bedroom.  You trusted me with your life, Louis. 
You trusted me with your soul.  Now you must trust me again, my
beautiful one.  You must trust in me to take you to the very brink
of your greatest vulnerability without ever letting you be harmed."
 
	Any ounce of fear that I had felt was now replaced by anger.
Hatred for him burned so hot within me that I shook from it.  I
couldn't even speak, though question upon question ran through my
mind, demanding an answer from him.  How dare he?  How could he do
this to me?  How could he treat me as though I were nothing but a
plaything? 
	And it occurred to me as I stood there, seething, that perhaps
this was Lestat in his truest form.  How like him, I thought, to
have toyed with me all these years just as he would one of his
victims.  How very like him to have only pretended to care about
me and to make me care about him so that his betrayal of me now
would hurt all the more. 
	If I could have killed him then, I would have. 
	But Lestat took no notice of this.  He waited to see if I
would reply to what he had said.  When I did not, he let me go,
slowly, waiting for a reaction from me as his arms and hands slid
back from my body.  When again there was nothing, he continued to
move his hands on me, but not off of me, choosing instead to move
them over my body again and again. 
	I wanted, more than anything, to be able to say that he was
manhandling me, but, in truth, I could not.  From his gaze, it was
clear that he was examining me, looking at the knifemarks that
covered my body, although his touch was far from clinical.  Rather,
it was not  unpleasant as his fingers moved in no particular
pattern along my torso, arms and legs neither pushing nor
caressing, merely touching. 
	It began to feel oddly comforting.  If I closed my eyes, I
could almost imagine myself being massaged by the very air around
me, the gentle pressure sinking into my skin and washing away my
pain.   
	My thoughts started to drift.  Perhaps I had judged Lestat
too harshly.  Perhaps this was just his way of showing his concern. 
He had certainly done far clumsier things to our relationship
before and gotten a much lighter sentence from me in return.  But
even these thoughts slipped away from me under Lestat's continued
ministrations.  To think at all would have broken the spell.  It
was far better to concentrate only on the feel of Lestat's
fingertips as they moved in slow, soft circles along my skin. 
	Suddenly there was an explosion of pain.  Lestat's fingers
had settled on one of the welts on my stomach and pinched it, hard.
	I cried out.  "You're hurting me!" 
	He touched the spot and rubbed it, lightly.  "That hurts,
yes," he said.  "But how good does it feel as the pain fades away? 
There can be great pleasure in pain, Louis.  You have only to
learn." 
	"I will *not*--" I tried to protest but he covered my mouth
with his, kissing me despite my attempts to move away.  I knew then
that any display of my anger would only encourage him.  I had to
force my emotions down and maintain a semblance of calm.  He was
right, I was trapped and had no other choice. 
	When he saw that I was no longer going to speak, his hands
resumed their travels over my body. 
	Knowing that I had to endure this, I tried to imagine myself
as two entities.  One was my body which took all of Lestat's
attention, the other was my mind which I hoped to free within my
own thoughts and make it something that he could not touch. 
	But this was not possible.  The very moment that I was sure
I had taken my mind far enough away from him, he pinched down on
yet another knifemark.  The pain drew me back instantly. 
	"Don't," I said, or something like it. 
	"Ah, but I must," he said.  "These marks are healed on you
now.  It is only here that I have this chance.  Don't think about
the pain, Louis, think about the pleasure.  Even now you can feel
it, the sweet relief as the initial hurt fades away.  Focus on
that, Louis, and only that." 
	He started to caress me then, his hands more deliberate now
as he stroked me, stopping only to pinch at the knifemarks or to
nip at them with his teeth.  Never hard enough to draw blood, only
hard enough to hurt.  The result of his earlier examination was
clear to me now as not a single welt lacked for his attention.  I
began to feel that the entire front of my body was made up of
nerves, burning, throbbing nerves, each connected to the places
where Lestat's teeth or fingers had touched. 
	"Do you feel it now, beautiful one?" he asked.  "Are you
starting to feel the pleasure?" 
	He was close to me now, standing before me and looking into
my eyes.  I felt his hands move around to my back.  He pressed his
fingertips to the top of my shoulders, then raked his diamond-sharp
nails down from there to my buttocks.  I arched my back, trying to
get away from the pain, but pressing closer to him in the process. 
	"Yes, I think I'm getting through to you," he said. 
	"No," I said.  I shook my head in denial.  "No." 
	"Are you sure about that?" he asked.  Before I could reply he
placed his hands on the back of my hips and raised me up so that
he could kiss me.  I did not fight him, but neither did I respond. 
He broke the kiss finally and regarded me with amusement.  "This
has no effect on you at all?" 
	"Don't flatter yourself," I told him. 
	He laughed, a warm chuckle.  Taking a lock of my hair in his
hand, he turned it around his fingertip, waiting until I watched
this with my full attention, then bent his head to me so that he
could press his soft lips to the spot just behind my ear.  I
gasped, feeling his fangs lightly prick the skin. 
	"I don't have to flatter myself, Louis," he whispered.  "I
know what pleases you, even when you refuse to admit it.  And I
shall go on pleasing you until you *do* admit it.  I'll do it until
you scream.  Am I flattering myself now, Louis, or can you remember
how many times I've done that to you before?" 
	I turned away from him, my heart fluttering in my chest,
knowing that his words were true.  I bit my lip to keep myself from
giving him the answer that he wanted.  I had enough willpower and
anger left in me to do that.  It was only my body that betrayed me.
	Lestat's hands were on my arms now.  He raised them up slowly,
his thumbs pressing down on the large veins of my inner arm, into
the curve of my elbow, then between the bones of my forearm until
they reached the cuffs on my wrists. 
	"Such a shame," he said, moving his thumbs back and forth
against the metal.  "So close to those sensitive veins in your
wrists, and yet so far." 
	He held the chains in his hands now and gave them a light tug.
	"They're very strong," he said, then he moved his hands so
that he could hold my arms beneath the cuffs.  I tried to move my
arms away, but couldn't. 
	"Strong like me, don't you think?" he asked.  He nuzzled my
ear, then continued, his voice soft as though sharing some secret. 
"And you do like my strength, don't you, Louis?  You like the way
I can hold you tight." 
	He leaned forward until his hips pressed mine back against
the wall.  He was so close to me now that I could feel the buttons
on his shirt as I breathed.  He smiled, then turned his head to
whisper into my other ear.  "Or was that hold you *down*?" 
	I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from
responding as his words further weakened my resolve. 
	"There's a unique pleasure in being held like this, isn't
there?" Lestat had stepped away from me and was referring to the
chains once more. 
	"Not that I can see," I said, deciding to try and channel my
need to speak into times when I wanted it. 
	"Yes, there is," he said.  "Think of it, Louis, when has your
life ever been this simple?" 
	"Simple?" 
	"No worries, no choices," Lestat said.  He ran his hands down
my chest, using his fingernails to gently scrape the knifemarks and
make them pulse with pain once again.  "You don't have to do or
think about a single thing, only lie back and enjoy what I am doing
to you. 
	"It's the exact feeling that you give to your victims.  They
struggle at first, fighting for life.  But then they realize that
their struggles are useless.  You are too strong for them, you
control them. And once they realize that then there is only one
thing that they can do." 
	"Surrender..." I said breathlessly, the word escaping me. 
	"Oui," Lestat said, kissing the hollow of my neck. 
"Surrender. 
	"I remember that moment with you, beautiful Louis.  I remember
the precise moment when I held you in my arms, your blood pumping
through me and you gave yourself to me.  You would have let me
drain you until you died, so completely did you give yourself." 
	"I remember," I said. 
	"I knew at that moment that I had to have you," he said.   "I
couldn't stop thinking about you.  I had to find you again, take
you back from death.  I wanted you to be my child and I your
master." 
	This elicited another soft laugh from him. 
	"Master and child," he said, thoughtfully.  "What strange
words to choose.  Why not master and slave?" 
	"Am I your slave?" I asked. 
	"Am I yours?" he returned.  "I'm quite serious.  I certainly
feel like your slave."
	"You do?" 
	"Oui," he sighed.  He kissed me again, his hands stroking my
hips. "You, Louis, are the only man who has ever made me feel this
way.  Feel this unstoppable desire to be near you, to have you be
with me, to say my name, to touch me.  I've felt that ever since
I first saw you and it's only gotten worse.  Mon Dieu, Louis, you
bring me to my knees." 
	Saying so, Lestat did just that.  He knelt on the ground
before me, his hands around my waist and his head upon my stomach. 
My muscles twitched as his hair brushed against me.  Lestat stayed
like that, frozen, for a moment before becoming active once more. 
With his hands he kneaded my hips and thighs, all the while laying
a trail of kisses that went steadily down from my waist, to my
stomach and lower still. 
	"There's so much I can do for you here," he whispered, almost
to himself.  He bent his head down and I could feel his tongue
flicker out, then find the tender spot between my leg and pelvis
and the even more sensitive vein within it.  I rocked forward
slightly,  unconsciously trying to move past the wetness of his
mouth to his sharp fangs.  I was nearly there when Lestat moved out
of the way. 
	"Of course," he said, grinning up at me.  "There are times
when I feel that I am your master.  Like now for instance.  When
I can make you wait in agony for me to give you what you want, what
greater power over you can I have?"
 	He stood up again, slowly, letting his body rub against mine
as he did so. 
	"I've been wondering something, beautiful one," he said. 
	"What?" 
	"This outfit, the silk and the leather that you like so much. 
Do you like it because of the way it looks on me?" he let his hand
move down his body to show it off, then pressed close to me again,
shifting in place so that our bodies moved together.  "Or because
of the way they feel against your skin? 
	"Or maybe it's neither.  Maybe you like to see me in silk
because of how easily it moves on me."  Lestat undid the buttons
of his shirt, exposing his muscular arms and chest, then let the
shirt slide off of his shoulders to fall into a puddle on the
floor.  I was breathing hard now. 
	"Do you want me, Louis?" he asked. 
	I'd been asked so many variations of this question that the
answer came automatically to me. 
	"Of course I love you, Lestat." 
	"No, no," he said.  "I didn't ask if you *loved* me.  I asked
if you *wanted* me." 
	"I don't understand," I said. 
	"I'm not talking about love, Louis," he said.  "Love is beside
the point here.  What I am talking about is lust.  Pure, carnal
lust.  The kind that burns deep within your body and leaves you
aching for me.  The kind that comes from your most primitive
desires." 
	I moaned, wanting desperately to respond but still forcing
myself not to.  It was apparently enough for Lestat.  His mouth
was on me again as he pressed his lips gently to the very marks
that he had bitten not long before.  His hands, too, were kind once
more as they caressed my back.  I found myself leaning into this,
enjoying the actions of love making which were so familiar to me. 
	"Kiss me," I said. 
	"As you wish," Lestat said.  He took my head in his hands and
began kissing me softly, first on my eyes, then my cheeks, then my
jaw. 
	"No, kiss me," I said. 
	"I am." 
	"On the mouth." 
	"Soon," he promised.  "Perhaps." 
	"Lestat!" my own anger at this was shocking to me.  I felt a 
curious duality, one part of me still furious with him and wanting
to drive him away, the other longing for him and needing him to
come close.  And for the first time, the second part was taking
over. 
	"Shh," he said.  He touched his index finger to my lips and
kissed that.  The feeling of his lips so close to mine was
aggravating. "So beautiful," he whispered.  With his free hand he
teased my nipples, stroking them with his palm and pulling them
with his fingers until I thought I would lose all reason.  "So
very, very beautiful." 
	I was shaking now, but no longer with anger.  "Lestat--" 
	"Don't talk, beautiful one, just feel," he said.  "Close your
eyes and concentrate on the sensation of my fingertips on your
chest, your neck, your lips.  Concentrate on how it feels as I run
my tongue along that very same path." 
	He performed all of these actions as he spoke them.  My body
was soon on fire, ignoring any attempt on my part to bring me back
to reason. 
	"Think of how much blood there is inside of you," Lestat
continued. "Think how long it would last when I finally pierce your
skin and drain you, how long that delicious swoon would go on." 
	I was struggling now, my body twisting both in my desire and
without my desire for it to do so.  I couldn't stand it any longer. 
I was burning for Lestat's touch and could not get enough of it. 
	He kissed me then, on the lips, his tongue in my mouth.  I 
responded, but in frustration. 
	"It's not enough anymore, is it?" Lestat asked.  "My kiss
alone won't do it anymore.  It won't fill the ache in your body,
will it?" 
	"No," I whispered. 
	"What will, Louis?  Tell me what will." 
	In desperation, I pulled the last of my strength from inside
of me and forced myself to be silent.  He would not get to my mind,
I was sure of it. 
	But Lestat already had my body and he knew it.  The rest was
easy.  He knew what I craved and what I would have cheerfully
killed for. 
	With his strong hands he tilted my head back.  He ran his
fingers along the veins in my neck, then his lips, then, finally,
his fangs.  I thought my mind would explode from the ungodly simple
feeling of his pointed teeth moving back and forth against my neck. 
It seemed an  eternity passed as he did that, each tiny movement
sending me further into agony, exploiting my every weakness until
I thought I would die from need of him, my entire universe reduced
to his fangs, his mouth, his hands. 
	"Do you want me?" he asked, sending me into Hell just by
moving his mouth far enough away from me so that he could speak.
	"Yes!" I sobbed, knowing that my surrender was complete. 
	But he would not give me this satisfaction.  He would make me
humiliate myself for him even more. 
	"Where?" he asked, moving even further away from me.  I was
sure that I would pass out, so great was my need. 
	"Anywhere!  I don't care!  Just please do it, please!" 
	"Are you mine, totally and utterly?  Mine to do with as I
wish?" 
	"*Yes*!" I moaned, blackness swimming before my eyes. 
Suddenly I was falling forward, the cuffs chaining me to the wall
snapped open and Lestat's fangs finally in my throat.  I collapsed,
falling to the floor just as the silk shirt had done, caring only
that Lestat was on top of me, his mouth taking in my blood in
swallow after swallow and sending me through ecstasies that were
impossible to imagine and even more impossible to describe.  I was
lost, everything taken from me, my anger, my will, myself.  And yet
I didn't care.  Not so long as Lestat de Lioncourt held me in his
arms, my rightful place to be..... 

NIGHT FIVE 
 
	I jumped awake, my heart pounding.  I looked around wildly,
searching.  Something was wrong.  Something was supposed to happen,
but I couldn't tell what. 
	And then I remembered.  For the first night in too long a
time, I had not woken up screaming.  But what *was* I waking up
to? 
	"Louis?"  Lestat sat up in bed beside me.  He was looking at
me curiously.  "Is everything alright?" 
	"Yes, I--I think," I said. 
	"You don't sound very sure," he said.  "How did... did you
have another nightmare?" 
	"No.  Yes.  I don't know."  I ran a hand through my hair in
frustration.  Why couldn't I remember the dream?  I needed to
remember the dream, something inside of me said that this memory
was important, but I could not reach it.  I searched my mind
desparately, mentally running after thoughts that felt right, but
revealed nothing.  And Lestat's strange behavior wasn't helping. 
It was almost as though he was the one waking from a nightmare. 
But why did that thought only remind me of my own dream?  "Did you
have another nightmare, Lestat?" 
	"Not exactly," he said.  He looked extremely uncomfortable. 
"Don't you remember anything of your dream?" 
	"I'm not entirely positive that I had a dream," I said. 
	"Yes, you did!" Lestat said, then immediately looked as though
he wished that he hadn't. 
	"Lestat, why...."  And then it hit me.  With full force the
dream came back to me and I remembered it all.  The sun, the wall,
the chains. 
	And *Lestat*. 
	"BASTARD!!"  I was on him in a flash.  My body moved as though
without my knowledge as I drove at him, beating him, thrashing him,
*Hurting* him.  The force of my blows pushed us both to the floor
and we fell into a tangled heap of sheets and pillows and still I
went at it. 
	"Son of a bitch, you raped me!  You raped me!  My body wasn't
enough for you?  You had to have my mind too!  That was me in
there!  You raped *me*!"  He lay on the floor underneath me,
unmoving as the very bruises that I placed onto his body healed
before I could strike the next blow.  Infuriated, I slashed at him,
cutting my nails across his face and chest.  "Monster!  You're a
monster!  You're not human, you never were!  Do you hear me? 
MONSTER!  You betrayed me!  You raped me!  How could you do it,
Lestat?  How could you?" 
	The smell of blood filled the air.  I felt myself drawn to
it, thinking that I had to feed.  But then I remembered, that had
been the dream too.  I struck him on the face once more before
exhaustion overwhelmed me.  I pulled myself away from him and
crawled to a chair, curling my body into the seat and burying my
head against the arm rest. 
	"How could you do it?  How could you?  How could you?"  I said
it over and over, the words rebounding in my mind until I no longer
knew if I said them aloud or only thought them.  I felt physically
ill. 
	I sat there, sobbing, until I couldn't do it any more. 
Somehow, I found it in myself to look at him again.  He sat on the
floor, his body supported by the bed and covered with marks and
scratches.  He did not look at me. 
	"Damn you," I whispered.  "Say something to me!" 
	He did not reply.  I sat higher in my chair, drawing what
strength I had left in me to face him. 
	"I told you to speak!" 
	"What would you have me say?" 
	"Tell me how you could do this!  How could you?" 
	He sighed, an action which was clearly painful for him to do. 
I thought he was going to remain silent again, but finally he
spoke. 
	"I thought it was something you wanted me to do." 
	I slapped him. 
	"You go to Hell, Lestat!  You go right to Hell!  I will
tolerate your callousness.  I will tolerate your cruelties.  But
I will not tolerate you treating me with anything other than the
respect I deserve for living with you!  Don't you *dare* give me
some mortal lie!  You have raped me and you will explain yourself
properly!  Damn you, look at me!" 
	His grey eyes turned to watch me from where he sat. 
	"I couldn't let you live like that anymore," he said.  "I had
to stop it.  Louis, I was *there*!  I couldn't leave you like
that!" 
	"I never wanted you there!  I never--" A humiliating sob broke
through my words.  I covered my face with my hands so that he could
not see my tears.  "You weren't supposed to be there.  You weren't
supposed to see.  I never wanted you to see me like that!  I never
wanted you to see...." 
	"But I've already seen it," he said.  "I've seen your dreams
before." 
	"No," I whispered. 
	"Yes!"  He moved closer to me.  "I saw it, Louis.  I saw the
Temple and the sabbat and the sunlight.  I saw your vision of me!" 
	My heart pounded in my chest, a dull thud with each beat. 
	"You had no right," I said.  "No right!" 
	"I was trying to protect you!" 
	"You were trying to abuse me!  I can't believe that you, even
you, would spy on me then take the first chance you had to do
whatever you wanted to me!  You're right, your true nature *is*
evil!  Monster!" 
	"I was trying to help you!" 
	"By trapping me in the Temple and--" 
	"You were there already!"  He went to put his hands on the
chair but I stopped him with a look.  "Louis, don't you understand? 
The bad things, the Temple, the chains, those were just a dream. 
Your own mind made them up.  But me, what we did, *that* was real! 
And you felt real pleasure!  You don't have to have the nightmares,
Louis, you can dream what you wish.  We did it before, remember? 
You and me by the stream?" 
	"Don't you *dare*," I hissed.  "Don't you dare destroy that 
memory more than you already have!  I *trusted* that dream!  I
trusted it so much that I made love to you!  I thought you came to
me in love, that what I saw was purely you!  And I thought, all
this time, that we could do it again if only we could have our
emotions as pure as we did then.  But no, I was wrong.  Because you
came to me tonight and you used me for your own sick game!" 
	"I didn't use you, we made love," he said.  "You felt
pleasure, Louis.  The fear was gone and you felt pleasure!" 
	"And how do I know you didn't make me feel that?" I asked. 
"How do I know you haven't been controlling me all this time?  I
wouldn't put it past you!  I'm not your puppet!" 
	"No, you're Juliano's." 
	"Bastard!  You take that back!" 
	"It's true!" he said.  He leaned forward so that I could see
nothing other than him.  "He's the one controlling you all this
time, Louis.  He's the real man of your dreams, isn't he?  After
all, you can't stop thinking about him or dreaming about him." 
	"Shut up!" I said, my own voice unrecognizable to my ears. 
"Don't say another word!" 
	"And you're weak to him, aren't you, Louis?  You don't even
put up a fight when the dreams of him start.  The only time you
ever did fight is when I came into the picture.  So that's what
bothers you, is it?  You'd rather have a dream of him than the
reality of me." 
	I leapt off the chair with an inhuman roar, tackling Lestat
and throwing him against the floor. 
	"Take it back!  Take it back!"  I tried to claw at his eyes,
but he only laughed. 
	"How weak you truly are, Louis," he said.  "Do you think this
is a challenge for me?" 
	I felt the pain of my head hitting the dresser before I
realized that he had shoved me against it.  "Lestat--" 
	"Silence!"  There was a sharp sting from his palm as he struck
me across the face.  "You haven't earned the right to speak to me."
	I tried to hit him, but he grabbed my hand before I could
reach him.  Then, with a quick jerk, he had me on the floor,
straddling me on my chest and holding my wrists firmly above my
head.
 	"Trapped again, are you?" he taunted.  I thrashed madly,
trying to free my hands.  I couldn't stand the thought of being
held in this manner. 
	"Let me go!" 
	"Why should I?" 
	"You said you loved me!" 
	"I can't love a cripple." 
	"Lestat," I was moaning now.  "*Please*." 
	"No!"  He dug his knee painfully into my side.  "Weak little
Louis can't fight to save himself.  You just don't have it in you. 
You can't even fight off a dream.  That's why Juliano got you, you
know.  That's probably why he picked you.  Your very weakness begs
for it!" 
	"And is that why you picked me too?" I asked.  "Is that why
you made me?" 
	"Precisely.  I wanted a nothing and a no one exactly like
you!" 
	"I am not a nothing!" 
	"Tell it to your lover, Juliano." 
	"I'll kill you!" I screamed.  I grabbed onto his wrists and
flung him against the wall.  He hit the mirror and fell in a spray
of shattering glass.  He started to get up, but I shoved him down
again.  I forced him onto his back, pressing down to make sure the
glass cut into him, then pinned him there, holding his hands
tightly in mine in exactly the same way that he had held me.  He
struggled, but could not break free no matter how hard he tried. 
Finally, he gave up and lay placidly underneath me. 
	"Louis--" he whispered. 
	"Be quiet!"  I was crying, I could feel the hot tears against
my cheeks. 
	"Don't be afraid.  This is your power, this is how strong you
are, don't be afraid of it.  Use it!  Use it and never be afraid
of your memories again." 
	"Quiet," I said again.  But he was right, I was trembling with
fear.  I didn't know what to do. 
	He shifted under me and I could feel the movement of his
muscles against my legs as I held him.  When I looked at him, he
smiled and turned his head to the side, stretching his neck out.
	"I can't move, Louis, until you let me.  I'm here, trapped, 
underneath you.  The Vampire Lestat is completely helpless before
you, no more able to fight you than a mortal man.  I'm yours,
Louis.  Totally yours." 
	I was breathing hard now.  I licked my dry lips and tasted
the drops of his blood that had gotten on me in our fight.  The
scent of blood in the room was dizzying. 
	"Your victim, Louis...." 
	I swayed, lightheaded, before savagely biting into his neck. 
He jerked, reflexively, then became languid in my hold.  His hot
blood filled my mouth and I drank it down greedily, losing myself
in the embrace and the images that came with it. 
	:Take it all, take everything I have to give you....: 
	:I'm scared... I don't want to be like *him*.: 
	:You're not him.  You're Louis.  You could never be him,
beautiful one.  Never.  You can be strong, but never be him.:    
 
--Lestat--
 
	He drank until my heart slowed dangerously.  Eyes closed, I
did not attempt to break free again.  He had done it.  He had
fought me.  If I died now, I died happy, in Louis' arms - his very
strong arms.  Slightly giddy, thoughts flitted through my mind
rapidly.  I could never allow Louis to know how much it had hurt
me to do that to him.  I would have gone through that and more if
I thought it would bring Louis back to himself, and me.  Though
painful, the blows he inflicted upon me had been a blessed relief. 
I wanted him to strike harder, until his pain and my guilt were
both washed away in a rain of tears and blood.
	When his lips left my throat at long last they traveled across
my cheek to claim my lips, allowing me to taste myself within the
warmth of his mouth.  Then finally, the kiss ended and Louis moved
away, fractionally, releasing my wrists at last.  I felt abandoned,
suddenly, and my eyes fluttered open.  His tear streaked face was
partially turned away, his eyes dark with blood.  At once I sat up,
my heart sinking.  "You're not still frightened?" 
	"No... I mean, yes, I am still, somewhat, but that's not it."
	"What then?"
	He looked at the ceiling, drawing a shuddering breath.  "I
wanted to kill you.  I really did.  In the temple.  Even afterward. 
If I could have killed you, I would have.  I had no idea..."
	"Hush.  It's over now."  I tried to draw him into my arms,
but he would not allow it.
	"The pain..."
	"It's not so bad now." I quickly assured him.  "Except for
the glass.  We're going to have to dig a few pieces out, I think."
	He looked at me in consternation.  "Oh God, get up!"  He
immediately stood then pulled me to my feet.  I rose gingerly, my
naked back and legs still covered with glittering shards.  
	He stood silently for some time, simply looking at me, the
tears trickling slowly down his face.  Again I tried to take him
into my arms, but he resisted.  "You did that for me." he whispered
at last.  "You literally went into hell, for me."
	I tried to make light of it.  "You're being a bit dramatic,
don't you think?"
	"No." he said flatly.
	It was a tone he used when repressing deep emotion.  He was
truly upset, but I couldn't pinpoint why.  There were so many
reasons - which one had he picked?  Again, I tried to shrug it off. 
"I've done it before, Louis.  I'll do it again if I have to.  Even
hell can't keep you from me."  His expression was strained and I
fought the impulse to draw him to me.  "What is it?"
	"You."
	"Louis..."  What could I say?  "It was an impulse, going into
the dream like that.  I only just discovered I could.  And I
thought..."
	"I saw your fear." he interrupted quietly.  "Your pain.  I
felt it when I drank from you.  You were terrified of hurting me
that much.  But you did it anyway."
	My mind frantically searched for a denial.  None came.  "Yes. 
I did it anyway."  My words were just slightly bitter.  "Like the
selfish bastard I am.  Go ahead, Louis.  Tell me again what a
monster I am.  Let's get this over with, please, so I can get the
glass out."
	He took another deep breath.  "You truly believe I'd think
that of you, now?"  His soft voice was distant, as though he
considered the question he had just asked.  Then he raised his
hand, finally allowing the physical contact I so wanted.  He pushed
a wayward strand of hair from my eyes then lingered, drawing the
back of his hand down my cheek.  "Just as you saw me, in the dream,
I saw you in the blood.  I heard your prayer.  'Please don't make
me do this' you said."  His voice dropped to a whisper.  "You
actually prayed."
	"It was a selfish prayer.  And it wasn't answered, I might
add."
	He met my eyes for a timeless moment, and I saw within his
emerald gaze raging, conflicting emotions.  "You're tired." he
finally said.  "I drained you.  Come on."  He led me to our
brightly lit bathroom, and proceeded to remove the remaining glass
from my back with a wickedly sharp razor.  I said nothing, refusing
to meet his eyes in the mirror.  Finally, with deceptive calm, he
asked "How long have you been in my dreams?"
	I hesitated.  "A few days."
	"What did you see?"
	"Why do we have to go into this?" I demanded, not wishing to
remember them.
	"I think I deserve to know.  What did you see?"
	I sighed.  "I saw you chained to a wall.  You were weak and
thin and..." my voice caught and I went on.  "Then I saw the sabbat
ritual.  And after that, the courtyard."
	He considered.  "When I told you about the little girl.  You
already knew, didn't you?"
	"Yes.  I saw it."
	"Then why did you ask?"
	"Because I wasn't sure if I was seeing your dreams, or having
dreams of my own.  I don't think I would have added something like
that independently.  As it turns out, it was your dream I saw." 
I sighed.  "You should have told me about her."
	"I couldn't."
	"Are there any other dreams you can't tell me about?"
	"Yes."
	I waited, but no other explanation was forthcoming.  When I
met his eyes in the mirror, I received a shock.  I expected a
slightly fearful, rather apologetic expression.  What I saw was
steel.  "Do you think we should discuss them?"
	"No."  Again, no hesitation, and no apology.  "Is this the
first time you've tried to influence my dreams?"
	"Yes.  Before I couldn't even move.  No one could see me."
	"How did you discover how to move?"
	"I didn't.  It just happened.  A little willpower, and you
could suddenly see me.  It's just a question of controlling the
fear."
	"Control the fear, and you control the dream." he said
thoughtfully, placing the bloody razor on the counter.
	I had to smile.  "That's the whole point, isn't it? 
Controlling the fear."
	It was as though he looked at me with new eyes.  His entire
expression was that of a man reborn.  I could only guess what he
was going through his mind.  "I need to think about this.  Go
hunt."  I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a
very thorough, almost brutal kiss.  "I'll be here when you return."
he whispered against my lips.  There was something in his voice I
didn't like.  I looked at him uncertainly.  "Go on."
	"We do need to talk, you realize."
	"I quite agree."  Again, the strange inflection in his voice. 
Almost as though he were angry, but not quite.  "You tend to get
distracted when you're hungry.  Hurry."
	I needed no further encouragement.  I dressed and sped into
the night, my victims dying almost before they were aware of my
presence.  I returned in record time to find Louis in our bedroom. 
He, too, had dressed, and was clearing away the last of the glass.
	"That was quick." he commented, sweeping the glittering
remains into a dustpan.
	"You told me to hurry."
	"So I did.  Why don't you wait for me downstairs?  I won't be
long."
	"Louis, I..."
	"Lestat, wait for me downstairs."
	He was serious, and his tone of voice jangled my nerves. 
"Alright." I finally agreed.  Satisfied, he returned to his
cleaning.
	Louis' behavior had me on edge.  Was he mad or not?  I
couldn't tell, which was a rare thing for me.  If he was mad, he
was about to explode.  The calm before the storm.  If he *wasn't*
mad, however, he was so badly hurt that he seemed to be going into
some sort of mental shock.  Either way, it was possible I had
pushed him too far.	
	I chose the comfort of our den and waited.  As promised, he
did join me shortly.  I took one look at his face and understood
at once that this would not be the calm conversation I had hoped
for.
	He started in at once.  "Why didn't you tell me what you were
planning to do?"
	"As I said before," I replied, striving to keep my voice even,
"it was an impulse.  I really didn't think it through."
	"You obviously thought it through enough to understand how
much pain you would cause."
	"But that was the whole point!" I protested.
	"Causing me pain?"
	"Yes."  His expression at once turned coldly furious and I
hastened to explain.  "Pleasure and pain, in a controlled
circumstance.  Pleasure in the dream, and pain out here."  I
gestured in frustration.  "You had to fight, Louis!  You had to
understand that you have the power to fight!  There is no need for
anyone to rescue you in the dreams.  You can do it yourself!  But
you've convinced yourself that you're helpless.  And as long as you
believe it, it's true."
	"I am *not* helpless."  He advanced on me and I instinctively
backed up.
	"No, you're not.  I know that.  But you didn't."
	"I know it now."  Again he advanced and I retreated.
	"Good.  That's what I was hoping for."
	"Well, then.  That's all that's important, isn't it?" he
sneered, the expression marring his beautiful face.  "You're
satisfied.  The experiment was a success.  Never mind what I
wanted.  Never mind that you left me chained to a wall.  We'll just
forget all about the fact that you took me against my will."  Again
he advanced, and I was rapidly running out of room.  His voice
dropped to a dangerous hiss.  "That you physically attacked me
afterwards isn't even worth mentioning."
	"Louis..."
	"Shut up."  He was suddenly in front of me.  At once he
grasped the front of my shirt, dragging me forward.  "I'm not
finished speaking."  He shook me for emphasis.  "Your pathetic
prayer isn't all I got from the blood."  He bared his teeth in a
grim parody of a smile.  "You *wanted* me to attack you, didn't
you?  You enjoyed it!  A few shouted words, a couple of bruises,
some shattered glass, and you're guilt free.  Isn't that it?" 
Without warning he slapped me, full across the face.  It was hard
enough to cause my vision to dim momentarily, though I could still
hear him clearly.  "After what you did tonight, I hardly think one
little brawl would make much of a dent in the guilt you must carry. 
After what you did to me, I think I'd have to beat you for *years*
to wash away the guilt!"
	I was flying through the air, crashing through one of the
antique tables before I was even aware he had shoved me.  Again he
was on me.  "How is that, Lestat?" he cried, dragging me forward
again.  "Are you starting to feel better?"
	Guilt or no, enough was enough.  I tore away from him, sending
him sprawling against the sofa, hearing the wooden frame split with
a loud *crack* as he hit.  "Damnit, Louis, I'm sorry!  I only
thought to..."
	I never got a chance to finish.  In a blur he hurled himself
at me again, and we both crashed to the floor, more furniture
reduced to rubble in our path.  "You're sorry?" he roared.  "How
many times have you said that in your life?"  He emphasized his
point with a swift punch, and I felt my newly-healed ribs cave once
more.  "Each time you do something thoughtless, it's 'I'm sorry'
and that fixes everything, doesn't it?"  Another fist into my
midsection.  "Did you ever stop, just for one moment, to consider
what I wanted?  To perhaps think about discussing this with me
beforehand?"  Another fist in the gut and I tasted blood.
	But that wasn't the worst of it.  His words cut into me far
worse than his fists ever could.  He was right, and I knew it.  I
stopped fighting, for the second time that night lying passively
under his blows.  It seemed to infuriate him all the more.  "Get
up!" he raged, lashing out with feet and fists.  "Fight me!  I will
not be responsible for the absolution of your guilt!  Get Up!"  But
I didn't move, and after a few moments he retreated in frustration.
	I groaned softly where I lay.  I healed rapidly, true, but
this attack was much worse than the first.  Broken bones take time
to knit and it hurts like the devil until they heal.  Just
breathing at that moment was painful.  Even so, I couldn't resist. 
"If it makes you... feel any better... Louis," I gasped, "*I* don't
feel... any better... at all."
	"Good."
	I lay without moving for some time, just concentrating on
breathing.  At last I heard him stand and walk over to me.  I
tensed against another blow, flinching slightly when I felt his
hand on my head.  But rather than strike, he ran his fingers
through my hair.  "Are you badly hurt?"
	I cracked my eye open and looked hazily at him.  "Bad enough."
	"Can you sit up?"
	"I'd rather not."
	He let out a rapid breath.  Then suddenly his fingers
tightened into a fist, dragging my head several inches from the
floor.  "Are you listening to me?" he asked quietly.
	"Yes."  Did I have a choice?
	"Don't *ever* do anything like that again."  He shook my head
slightly, causing my teeth to rattle.
	"I won't." I assured him.  Satisfied, he let go of my hair
and my head dropped back to the floor with a dull thud.  Then, to
my astonishment, he gathered me in his arms and carried me
upstairs.  I didn't protest.  In fact, I moved just enough to turn
my head into his chest.  My position was nearly identical  to his
the first night I carried him down to the living room, three long
years ago.  It was fitting somehow.
	Between the fights, the healing, and the emotional strain of
the night, I was totally exhausted.  Louis stripped off my clothes,
then his own, and bundled us both into bed.  I could barely keep
my eyes open.  "Today, when I go to sleep, stay out of my dreams."
he commanded softly.
	"I will if I can." I agreed sleepily.  "I don't seem to have
much choice in the matter."
	"Try."  I mumbled an agreement, more asleep than awake.  I
felt his lips in my hair, barely heard his whispered "I love you." 
I don't know if it was a conscious effort on my part or not, but
that day I slept without dreaming.
 
NIGHT SIX
 
	I bolted awake.  "Lestat!  Lestat!  Help Me!"  And finally
"LESTAT!!"  
	I groaned softly.  "Not again."  Once more we went through
the ritual of calming Louis, drawing him away from the nightmares. 
When he finally lay panting in my arms I asked "What happened?"
	"Juliano... he..."  Louis shuddered violently.  Then he
suddenly looked up at me.  "You weren't there?  You didn't see it?"
	"No.  Which one was it?"
	"I thought I could do it.  I thought I could face him alone. 
But I just can't."  Once again a deep shudder racked his body. 
Then he suddenly pushed away from me, sitting with his knees drawn
to his chest, resting his head on his hands.  "Perhaps if you were
there, the two of us could fight him together."
	His voice was weary and defeated.  The fight I had worked so
hard to awaken within him seemed to have vanished without a trace. 
I couldn't believe it.
	I gritted my teeth, then rallied for one final effort.  "Why
should I help you?  The last time I tried you beat the shit out of
me."
	His head snapped up, eyes flashing.  "The last time you did
it without my permission."
	"But now that I have it, just what do you expect me to do? 
Charge in like a white knight and banish Juliano back into the
netherworld where he belongs?"
	"Well, no... I..."
	"Think about it." I said.  "If it was that easy I would have
done it long ago."
	"What do you mean?" 
	"I can't conquer your dreams.  Only you can."  I glared at
him.  "We're not fighting Juliano.  We're fighting *you*."
	He considered this, then nodded slightly.  "I understand." 
His expression hardened.  "You're right, of course.  I must do it
myself.  But if you were there, perhaps you could keep me focused." 
Another shiver.  "I tend to get... distracted when you're not
there."
	I smiled suddenly.  "That I could do.  We could try today, if
you wish."
	"I do.  I wish it very much."
	It was one of the longest, most unpleasant nights of my life. 
Still stiff and sore from the night before, I felt snappish and out
of sorts.  Louis too, was tense and edgy.  I was almost looking
forward to the dream, just so we could end the suspense.
	That morning we got ready for bed earlier than usual.  "I
can't control which dream we'll be in." Louis warned.
	"I can't control if I'll be there or not, so that makes us
even."
	"You'll try to be there, won't you?"
	I circled my arms around him, holding him tightly.  "I'll
try."  We lay, tense and unmoving, until the dawn brought sleep.

DAY SIX
 
	Almost at once I felt the dreamstate envelop me.  I groaned
aloud when I saw the setting.  The courtyard, again.  And as
before, Louis was securely bound and helpless.  But unlike
before, we were alone.  Just the two of us.  Blinded by the
light, his voice called to me.
	:Lestat!  Is it that you can't find me, or is it that you
will not come?  I love you, Lestat.  I love your strength and
your courage.  Please come to me.  Take me from this place, as
you did before.  I'm so frightened...:
	"Louis, I'm here.  Open your eyes, beautiful one."
	He squinted against the oncoming dawn.  "Lestat?  Is it
really you?"
	"Yes.  I'm here with you, just as we hoped."
	The sky brightened further, causing a deep shudder to run
through him.  "Help me, then!  Release me!  Help me change the
dreams!"
	"You know I can't do that.  Only you can free yourself from
this place.  But I'm here with you, Louis.  If the burning comes,
we burn together."  *That* got his attention.  Rather than
mindlessly struggle, he suddenly stilled, looking at me.  A light
breeze blew through the courtyard, ruffling both my hair and the
white silk shirt he had once again chosen for me.  My skin was
pink in the pre-dawn glow, as was his.  "Louis."  I knelt beside
him, my fingers tracing a gentle pattern across his bare chest. 
"All you have to do is believe.  Believe in yourself, in your
strength, and the sun can not harm us.  Have faith, my love."  He
was listening to me with everything he had, fighting the primal
fear invoked by the light.  "You are stronger than these ropes. 
You are stronger than the fear."
	He tugged at the ropes as the sky began to shade into blues
and yellows, the first rays of true sunlight appearing.  They
held fast.  I controlled my own fear by a desperate act of will. 
"Believe, Louis.  Relax, and believe.  You are free.  There is no
temple.  There is no Juliano.  Only the two of us.  I love you."
	I looked deep in his eyes, and they were a shade I had never
seen before - that of new dawn on the fresh leaves of springtime. 
They glowed, holding me entranced as nothing before ever had.  I
was lost within them.
	The air became liquid gold around us as the sunlight
streamed into the courtyard.  Suddenly his arms were around me,
his mouth on mine, and as I closed my eyes tightly the light
carried us away.  There was no pain, no burning.  Only love.
	Even before I opened my eyes I heard the rush of the water,
and I smiled against the lips of my lover.  "The stream again?"
	"You don't like it?"
	"I didn't say that."  Blinking, I looked around
appreciatively.  I hadn't really gotten a good look our first
trip here.  We seemed to be in a lush mountain meadow.  Millions
upon millions of stars blazed overhead.  The light of a nearly
full moon bathed us in her gentle glow.  A soft breeze whispered
through the trees, the stream bubbled with the crystal purity of
years past.  In fact, it reminded me suddenly of my boyhood home
in the mountains of southern France.
	Louis and I were curled in each others arms under a large
tree.  The grass was soft and thick under us.  As before I was
clad in the white silk shirt and leather pants Louis favored. 
Louis, on the other hand, was clad in absolutely nothing, which I
favored.
	Suddenly he laughed, rolling on top of me, straddling my
hips.  "We did it!"  His joyous expression took my breath away. 
"We did it!  We changed the dream!"
	"We didn't do a thing." I reminded him, grinning.  "You did
it."
	"I did it."  He laughed again, and I couldn't help but join
him.  He was nearly giddy with delight.  "I did it!"
	"Yes you did, beautiful one."
	In a swift motion he suddenly lay full length on top of me. 
"I couldn't have done it without you, you know."
	"Oh yes you could have.  And you can again, if you chose to
do so."
	"You really think so?"
	"I know so.  You can change anything about this dream, any
time you choose."
	"Is that a fact?"
	"Yes."  I stressed.  "Next time you see Juliano, put horns
and a tail on him.  See how he likes it."  I snickered at the
mental image.
	"I don't think so.  I think I'll just wish myself here, to
our stream."  He kissed me suddenly, deeply, running his hands up
my arms, holding my legs down with his own.  I reached to hold
him, to pull him closer, only to discover with a shock that I
couldn't move!  Breaking the kiss I raised my head sharply,
seeking out the restraints, while Louis slid off me.  The cuffs
seemed to have grown from the earth itself, consisting of thick,
twisting roots.  I was pinned, spread-eagle, beneath the tree.
	"Louis, let me up!"
	"I don't think so."
	"What do you mean, you don't think so?  Let me up!"
	"No.  I think I like you this way."
	"Do you really?"  I began to struggle, not really surprised
when the roots held fast.
	"It's my dream.  I can do as I wish."  His teeth nipped a
trail along the side of my throat and I jumped.  "You taught me
that."
	I tested the bonds once more before relaxing.  "When do we
get to play in *my* dreams?" I grumbled.
	Louis stilled a moment, and I feared that once again my
mouth had destroyed a possibly wonderful memory for us both. 
"Would you really wish to endure what I have had to go through in
order to have these dreams?"  His voice was strained, suddenly,
and I would have kicked myself if I could have.  "In any case, I
think I've earned this, don't you?"
	For once I considered my reply carefully.  "I believe that
you deserve all the happiness the world has to offer, my love."
	"I'm glad to hear that."  He suddenly smiled, and I relaxed
again, relieved.  "Because it makes me very happy to see you like
this."  He looked down at my helpless form, seeming to consider. 
"Though I think a change of wardrobe is required."  Rather than
will it away, he simply reached down and tore the silk from my
body.  A wicked smile lit his face as he did it.
	"I think you may be enjoying this a little too much."
	"I haven't even begun."  He pounced, using fingers, teeth,
lips and tongue to trail fire from my navel to my throat and back
again.  Try as I might to keep still, when his lips reached my
waistband for the second time I was writhing under him. 
Satisfied, he abandoned his cursory exam and started for
specifics.  Using the very tip of his tongue, he trailed up my
ribs until he suddenly turned his head, fastening on my nipple. 
I gasped as he bit down gently on the sensitive flesh, then
soothed it with his agile tongue.  His left hand matched the
efforts of his teeth, teasing my other nipple until I whimpered,
my body tingling from his attention.  I felt rather than saw him
smile, and he left off, both to my relief and frustration.  His
lips traveled up, across my collarbone, up my throat and to my
ear.  He licked and nibbled the lobe until it was so sensitive
that the slightest breath was an erotic wave of pleasure.  Then,
with a final kiss, he withdrew just slightly.  "I have a surprise
for you, my handsome one."  His voice was slightly breathless,
containing the husky purr I loved.  I tried to turn my head to
capture his lips with mine, but he was too quick, and withdrew
just beyond reach.  "Patience.  You'll like this, I think."
	In one graceful motion he had straddled my leather encased
hips and finally kissed me, long and deep.  His eyes danced with
laughter, and I wondered heatedly what he could possibly have in
mind.
	Once again he trailed kisses down my body, his hands
following to caress my skin with a feather light touch.  He slid
down until his knees rested between my thighs, his tongue once
again trailing shivers of fire along my waistband.  Then,
suddenly, he moved lower, kissing the bulge at my crotch through
the leather.
	And it responded. 
	My head snapped up.  "Louis, how...?" I gasped, my eyes 
wide. 
	His grin was pure mischief.  "This is a dream!  We can do 
whatever we want.  I can, anyway.  Besides, it is time, I think,
for something good to come to you out of all the pain that I have
brought you in the past."  With his hand he stroked me at the
very spot his mouth had just been.  "I may have gone away from
you, my handsome one, but in doing so I learned about so many
things that only made me think of you and want to be back by your
side.  And now I can finally show you what they are." 
	"'They?'  You mean there's more?" 
	"Oh yes," he said with a fake innocence that he learned
directly from me.  "There's much, much more." 
	My breath coming in short, heated gasps, I lay back once
more, trying to focus on the sky, the stars, the leaves above us,
anything but the sensations in my groin.  But it was impossible. 
Within moments I was groaning aloud, tossing my head from side to
side as Louis increased his attentions.  I had not felt anything
like this when in the mortal body of Raglan James.  No localized
sensation this.  Wave after wave of pleasure spiraled from the
very center of me, traveling outward until every vein and artery
throbbed with it.  Somehow it was still connected to the blood.
	Just when I thought I would blissfully die on the spot,
Louis stopped.  I moaned, deep in my throat, my breath coming in
heaving gasps, blood sweat coating my body.  "You did like that,
didn't you?" he asked conversationally, as though I could still
remember how to speak.  "So did I.  But I don't think it's quite
fair.  I'm naked and you're still clothed.  We must do something
about that."
	He didn't bother with tearing this time.  As I watched he
frowned slightly, and suddenly the leather pants melted away. 
"Much better." he smiled.
	I looked down at the unbelievable sight of my body with an
erection.  My first thought was that it looked ridiculous.  But
it felt wonderful.
	Louis bent his head once more, his lips caressing the
sensitive skin of my inner thighs.  "So do you like my little
surprise... " he paused thoughtfully, "though little is hardly
the correct term."
	Gasping, I raised my head to look at him.  "This is a trick
question, right?"
	"Not really.  I just wanted to see your face when I did
this."  Then, looking deep into my eyes, he suddenly closed his
satin lips around me, taking in the whole of me in one heated
rush.
	I cried out, arching back and up as a shockwave of
unbearable pleasure whipped through me like lightening, my hips
bucking against the scorching rhythm.  It was clear Louis was
through teasing.  Every muscle strained against the cuffs which
held me firmly to the earth and I tossed my head back and forth
in frustration.  "Louis.... Louis...." I moaned his name over and
over again.  He was the entirety of my world.
	The heat rose to a fever pitch and I cried out sharply,
thrusting mightily against him.  In a flash Louis surged upward,
covering my body with the warmth of his own, his fangs plunging
into my throat.  The world around me faded, replaced by visions
of starbursts and comets, the creation of the universe replayed
for my eyes alone.
	I regained my senses slowly, as though returning from a
great distance.  My limbs felt weighted, impossible to move.  It
took an enormous force of will just to turn my head in the cool
grass.  Grass?  We were still in the dream!
	"Open your eyes, beloved." Louis whispered, and I suddenly
realized that he still lay on top of me, our limbs tangled
together.  "I have one more surprise for you."
	"I... don't think I can live through another one." I
croaked.
	He laughed, the deep, rich sound bathing my spirit in
warmth.  The sound was pure music, the perfect compliment to the
cheerful sound of the birds... birds?
	My eyes blinked open.  The sky... "Louis, the sky!"
	"I know.  Do you like it?"
	He rolled off of me then and I gingerly sat up, the cuffs
having disappeared back into the earth.  The sky blazed with
colors ranging from deepest indigo to golden pink.  At once I
pulled Louis close.  Arms wrapped around each other we simply sat
and watched as the golden glory of the sun rose above the trees. 
I couldn't suppress a fearful tremor, as my instincts told me to
bury myself at once.  Louis felt it and held me closer still,
stroking my hair and murmuring soft sounds of comfort.  My fear
was forgotten moments later as the first true rays of light
streamed into the meadow.  I held my hand up, watching the heated
beams harmlessly strike my skin.  But even *that* was forgotten
when I turned to speak to Louis.
	The words dried in my throat as I gazed at my most beautiful
lover.  In the sunlight his dark hair picked up golden
highlights.  His eyes gleamed and sparkled, now the very image of
the jewels they are so often compared to.  His pale skin seemed
translucent, the very image of an angel from above.
	I was not alone in my observations.  Louis could not take
his eyes from me, reaching slowly to touch my face and hair. 
"Look at you." he breathed.  "You *are* the sunlight.  Golden...
like a god."
	"No god, Louis." I said softly, fearful of breaking the
spell.  "And no demon.  Just a man in love."
	Louis' voice was the merest whisper.  "I love you."  He
leaned forward, brushing my lips gently with his own.  Then we
turned once more to face the radiance of the new day.

				The End