The Vampire Daniel
© Wraith
Wraithnoir@hotmail.com
July 1999DISCLAIMERS: I don't own them, just use them. Please don't sue one with no cash.
SPOILERS: Up to TVA
"There must be a skin
I'm sinking in
Must be for real
'Cause now I can feel
I don't want to miss
Remember that
I'll never forget
Where you're at."-Bush, "Glycerine"
May 15, 1999
When you look in the mirror, what do you see? I bet you see the kid you were, grown up into an adult you don't want to be. Like, your nose ended up like your dad's, or your hair's going all gray early like your Aunt Edna's, or something. Dumb, human stuff that is perfectly normal. Well, what if you got up and every night you saw the same face staring at you in disbelief. Like your eyes don't believe you either.
Yeah, that's what I face every night. I don't have to shave, don't have to pat my sagging beer belly and swear to lay off the potato chips. I just look, and sometimes I stare for a while. I cut my hair when I need some variety, but that doesn't last that long. The next night-bang- just like that; it's back. Something like the Blob.
So, now you're asking, "OK, man, what's the deal? Liposuction? Delusions?" Nope. It's because I got exactly what I wanted for once. I'm the Vampire Daniel.
Dear God, that sounds so lame! OK, so my name is Daniel, and I'm a vampire. No kidding. And my brother's dog belonged to President Reagan. No really, I'm a vampire because back in the eighties I got tangled up with this little red-haired imp named Armand. Knock out, that kid. Knocked me flat on my ass, and I came crawling back for more. I wanted this, I begged him for it. So, I got what I wanted and lost the imp. Bummer.
Big bummer, really. Of all the things in my life, he was the most pure, the most beautiful. Sounds drippy, but it's true. The most pure, because he didn't ever pretend. He knew what he was, angel and killer, and he didn't hide it from me. I made up some little dreams about what he was, and what he was to me, but he never did. The most beautiful? God, if you saw him once, that'd answer it for you. He looks really young, teenager, and he's tall enough to not be a midget and short enough to hold. Pale, pale skin that makes his deep brown eyes almost glow. In the right light, you can see these streaks of russet in them. The hair is kind of long, curly and wild down his back. He cuts it sometimes, but I like it down. It's auburn, with these almost golden-red highlights that match that russet in his eyes. I could go on like this for hours, waxing all poetic, but it's useless. You just have to see him to believe it.
I kind of left him after he made me into a vampire finally. We fought a lot, like we did when I was mortal, but it was meaner.
I mean, like the one time, he started in on me about going out for so long. Come on!
"What, are you my mom now, Armand? What the hell happened to lovers, equal partnership?" I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He just stood there, real calm.
"Daniel, it simply isn't safe to be gone so long."
"Simply isn't safe," I mimicked, watching his eyes narrow. "Christ, Armand, I'm a vampire, remember? I can take care of myself."
"I am your maker." He paused to take a quick breath and I interrupted him. So I was never real big on manners.
"Yeah, so I'm the wussy fledgling getting left behind. Bug off!" Then, the waterworks. Blood tears just appeared in those big brown eyes.
"Daniel, I love you. You are my guide, my love."
"Just shut up! Shut your mouth! I don't need this. Get off the cross, Armand!" His mouth opened in a soundless gasp and I swear to God, I thought he was just going to explode. He strode over like he was my father. I instantly knew he was going to hit me. Yeah, right!
I ducked away, pretty clumsy, but effective. Suddenly, I just wanted to whack him. Before he could recover, or yell some more at me, I ran from the room. I felt vaguely adolescent, but it was the only thing to do. Yeah, that's Danny Molloy. Stand there and get pummeled. Um, let me think about it...NO! This was not high school.
So, it got like this and there was no more kissing and making up. Blood kiss. Whatever. Pretty fantasy I'd been living. Finally, I got real fed up with the whole routine. So I left.
Well, it wasn't that simple, really. I packed a little bit every day for two weeks. I don't know if I was scared he'd find out or if I wanted him to catch me. He did neither and I finally had one suitcase ready to go. Don't laugh; I'm really bad at packing. I bought the plane ticket that night, to New York I think, and had it held at the airport.
Most of the others had left the Night Island already. Oh, the Night Island is this cozy little spot (OK, fine, it's a freaking empire) that my little imp, Armand, bought and gave to me. He did it to make me a content mortal. I never settle for second best. Anyway, Louis and Lestat had gone off, crazy lovebirds, and I remember that only Marius was in the living room with Armand. Marius, Armand's maker. That would make him my grandfather, in some sick perverted way. They were sitting down, Marius on the loveseat that I hated and Armand was curled up in this big armchair. I don't remember exactly what Marius looked like that night, but I can see Armand as though I had a photograph.
No shoes on, wearing this sleeveless silk shirt that was just to his waist. It was dark green, and when he moved a little, I could see tiny peeks of a white stomach. The pants were also green silk, kind of baggy. But, since it was silk, his slim legs were pretty defined through the thin material. His hair was long and curling around his face, eyes really wide. Like a painting, though he hates when people say that. He had an open book on his lap, but he had been discussing something with Marius. I don't know, probably philosophy, or why ancient people didn't wear underwear. They have weird talks.
I stood there on the doorway, and I could feel his eyes making the circuit. Looking me up and down. He practically convulsed when he finally made it to my single piece of luggage.
He stood up, slowly, gracefully, like he does everything. But the book dropped to the floor with a crash, and even though Marius winced, he didn't pick it up.
"Where are you going, Daniel?" he asked, his voice gone all low and spooky. He has this accent, sometimes you don't even notice it. When he's upset, or emotional, you hear it. I sure as hell heard it.
"Armand, face it," I said, trying to play macho. "We fight all the time, we can't stand each other. So, absence makes the heart grow fonder. I'm cutting out for a while."
"Like the old days," he whispered. The tell-tale red had gathered in his deep brown eyes, and I didn't want to look.
"Yeah." He seemed to droop, hair falling in his face, hands that had been on his hips falling to his sides. I felt like a kid who has just crushed some beautiful bug. I felt that I had to say something.
"Hey, I'll probably see you again. I mean, we have eternity." He looked up at that. He didn't smile, didn't nod, just looked at me with eyes suddenly too big for his face. I felt guilty again, but I hadn't done anything wrong. Had I? I leaned forward to kiss him and was surprised to taste blood tears in the kiss. I mean, we had barely talked to each other in days. I savored it, though. Then turned and walked out, waving bye to Marius. He waved back, and just before I closed the front door, I heard my imp whisper,
"Addio, Daniel. Te adoro." OK, My Latin's not that good, but I knew that one. Farewell, Daniel. I love you. Sweet, right.? Wrong. It's something like you'd say as a final good bye. Creepy. Couple months later I figured out why I had the creeps while travelling. My little imp, my beautiful Armand, had gone into the sun. When I found out, reading David's book in a store, I sat down on the floor and cried. Right there, in front of everyone. I was ignored. I wished I could get drunk, then. Too bad. Like I said, I had gotten exactly what I asked for this time. Then why the hell was I crying?
I kept telling myself, "Hey, Danny, it's a book. You know Lestat's not always accurate. So, don't sit here crying, man! Go play X-Files." I couldn't just let it go, you know? So, whipping out that cool little credit card that cures more than Motrin IB, the breakfast of champions, I set out to find out what had really happened. All set in my snazzy new clothes and all that, I headed over to the Big Apple. As I told Louis, "It can't end like that." Wow. I just quoted myself.
"This one goes out to the one I love,
This one goes out to the one I've left behind.
Another cross has occupied my time,
This one goes out to the one I love."-REM
Oh, cool, you're still with me. Daniel Molloy, reporter boy. It's nice to be known. I have to tell my own story. No reporter's that desperate.Anyhow, so I got to NYC real late the next night. I mean, just enough time to dump my stuff on the bed in the hotel room, and get my coffin out of the crate it was traveling in. Have you ever tried taking a trip with one of those suckers? God, they are definitely not travel-sized for convenience. Now there's an idea! Pop-up travel coffins. Yeah, I can see that on the market now. All those cruising corpses will be in line for hours on end. OK, that's enough before I make myself ill.
Well, I basically fell into the thing and was dead asleep. Enough cash spread among the peons in the lobby when I made my less than grand entrance made sure that I wouldn't be woken up at noon by some maid who couldn't speak English who wanted to air out my room. Oh, wouldn't that be peachy. How do you like your vampire? Fried or toasted? That thought seemed real funny at first, but then I remembered Armand, and I just kind of stood there in the expensive lobby. I probably had my mouth open like a fish or something, because people were staring. Well, they were either gaping at that or my red Converse sneakers. I like those sneakers; they went great with my new black suit. Armand would have had a coronary. See, everything went back to him, everything. It sucked that I couldn't dress, sleep, even joke, without him invading my thoughts like a ...hold on, I'm fishing for a word. Oh well, lost it. You should have seen the one that got away. I really can't stay on topic, sorry.
OK, so where were we? Oh, yeah, I found out, I went to New York, I slept. So when I got up the next night, I was like, "What am I doing here?" I mean, I had been happily enjoying a dream that was me and Armand and ...hey, I can't tell you that! It was great; I could see him just like he was there, and I just hugged him and didn't let go and he didn't pull away or nag or lecture. Just let his little body be close to me and it felt real good. So when I woke up, in a strange place and he wasn't there, I felt kind of betrayed. A second later it all hit me again, but I took it like a man. No more tears; that would be wimpy and besides, this blood tears deal really screws up your wardrobe. Like, for all that Lestat cries, he should invest in an all- red line of clothes. Man.
I turned on the TV and the radio to just have some noise around. I was pretty calm, considering; I showered and put myself into place. Gelled my hair even. Looked just like Sting. Well, not just like, but close. I kind of dressed up in a nice new suit. All black, even the shirt. I looked pretty smooth when I saw myself in the mirror, but I looked like I was going to a funeral. I ripped the clothes off, refusing to think along those lines. Jeans and a T-shirt and to hell with anyone who complains. This is just a visit, I told myself, to clear up a little misunderstanding. I can handle this. Yeah, and Elvis joined me for dinner last night.
So I wandered around New York for awhile, playing tourist and lost soul. I mean, I knew where I should go. Take a hike over to the church. That's where it happened, that's where they had that towel that he did it for. I corrected myself really fast. I mean, Lestat said he did it for. Much better, though it didn't make my chest any looser.
I took a taxi all over creation and finally ended up where I figured I would. Big cathedral, stone and mortar. It looked like something from "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." Hmm. The steps were wide and flat and dark grey. Fallen tombstones. The streetlights were that disgusting orange that pretends to be yellow and the shadows looked kind of sick. I paid off the driver and got out of the taxi real slow. The driver reached through the window and grabbed my arm. Peachy, a mugging driver. Just my luck.
"You OK, son?" he asked in heavily accented English. I must have looked pretty bad to concern a taxi driver in NYC. I caught a glimpse of my face in the rear view mirror and was forced to agree. I tried to smile and pathetically my lips pulled back from my teeth.
"No, I'm good. Thanks though. Have a good night." I pulled away before this dude could remind me some more of how miserable I was. He pulled the taxi away and I was left alone with my imp's execution spot. There wasn't a nasty splotch mark on the stone, thank God. That would have sucked and I definitely would have tossed my cookies. But there wasn't a plaque either, and it seemed kind of pointless.
The church was open and I strolled in, like I was a Ghostbuster or something. But the quiet and the mood and the darkness made me almost tiptoe toward the altar at the front. Couple of candles, paintings, statues; it looked pretty much like any other Catholic church Armand had dragged me to. Too bad he wasn't here now to complain to.
"Oh, Daniel!" At the sound of my name, I spun on my heel. God, if I had been mortal, I would have needed a serious change of clothes! There was someone there in the shadows and I ran toward him. I was caught by a pair of strong arms and just held. Kind of weird. I mean, to be an adult and get hugged like that. It wasn't Armand. He could pick me up, but then, he could juggle Pontiacs if he felt like it. But he couldn't hold me like that. It was my job to hold him. I looked up into blue eyes that, like mine, were just dripping tears. My grandpa, Marius.
"He isn't here, ragazzo." My shoulders were shaking like crazy, and all I could say was,
"I know!" He's gone, I thought. Extinct. Dead. No, those words didn't work for him. Something that perfect can't be dead like a pet goldfish or a car battery. Marius just kept hugging me, and I could just feel how upset he was. I was so ticked; I didn't want it to be true. It couldn't be true. Not when I had come back for him, not when I had finally figured out that I couldn't live without him. Just my luck, right?
"Come to New Orleans, Daniel. The others are there, with Lestat."
"Who cares about him! I want Armand!" Marius pulled back a little and I wiped my nose and eyes on my sleeve. Well, there goes another shirt.
"Daniel, he's gone. Come with us."
"No, he can't be! I don't believe you!" I turned away and ran out of there at full speed. No way in Hell was I going to go make sure Lestat was all happy and cool while my imp was ...no, not dead! I took a plane out of there that night.
"Every day's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me,
The movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see
Reminds me that I long to be
Homeward bound; I wish I was
Homeward bound.
Home: with my thoughts escapin'
Home: where my music's playin'
Home: where my love lies waitin'
Silently for me."-"Homeward Bound" Simon & Garfunkel
The plane dropped me off in Miami. I kind of looked around and thought, "Shit, how did I get here?" I forgot my luggage and ended up making the extra trip to the Night Island. Clever Danny.
It's still pretty busy there, even without our little coven wreaking havoc. I actually had my key to get into the part that Armand built for us. I walked in and it felt like home. Corny, I know, but the pictures on the wall and the couches that I always get in trouble for having my feet on were all the same. But it was quiet; everything was too quiet for me now. With the stereo cranked I felt a little better, but it still was like chilling in a museum.
I wandered around, feeling kind of stoned. I mean, I wasn't but I couldn't focus and everything seemed whacked out and unreal. I dug through the closet in my room for some clothes, showered and changed. I remembered how when I wouldn't get up, Armand would drag me out of bed and give me a bath. The first time he did I swear to God I felt like a dog. But his hands were always warm from feeding and real smooth. Massages 'r Us. And he'd shave me, getting real serious. Like, he'd bite his lip like a little kid trying to color in the lines. If any of his hair got in his way, he'd shove it back behind his ear. It was kind of funny; it was like he was mad at the hair for interrupting. His hair was so silky; I loved to play with it when he wasn't paying attention. Otherwise it would be:
"Daniel, stop it!" Yeah, Daniel, quit being affectionate to your little demon familiar. So I'd sulk and then, if I was lucky, he'd be real sorry and come cuddle.
Now I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, like Chief Little Blue Chicken Foot, wishing he was there to wrestle...hug...look at. Anything. Our fights didn't seem so important, I thought as I hopped off the bed to wander some more.
Armand kept his room so freaking clean I couldn't find anything. But then, I didn't know what I was looking for anyhow. Not like I was going to find my imp playing hide- and -seek behind his racks of CD's or in his huge closet. I stared at some expensive painting on his wall. Angels, you know, with auburn hair and wide brown eyes. Mm-hmm, wonder what that made me think of? It was so clean, his room, that I had this uncontrollable urge to screw it up, make it look lived in.
I was like Animal from the Muppet Show, tearing through the chests and trunks and drawers. Tons of stuff in there, let me tell you. And I kept turning up all these little things that would make me madder. You know, the picture somebody had taken of us while we were all together at our home base. I had grabbed him for a kiss when whoever had snapped it, and we were laughing and his hair was all crazy. I couldn't believe he had it, and the tears just came pouring down. Niagara Falls. Everything was a reminder of when we were happy, not bitching at each other.
He had computer stuff and clothes and tons of jewelry. I sat down on the floor with the box of it. I flung the cover through the open door into the hallway, and heard the cool crunch it made on impact. I think I knocked down a picture, or something. He had rings galore, with big stones, little stones, no stones. I hadn't even see him wear half of them. Lots of garnet, I think. Whatever the dark red one is. I never gave him any of it. Couple of bracelets, kind of junky looking. Plastic stuff you wear to concerts. Necklaces; yeah, a bunch. Crosses in every size, color, and shape. This one was wood, painted black, and it had three crossbars. One of them was slanted. Some other kind of Catholic or something. I never saw him wear that one either.
I took one of the red stone rings and tried it on. Really small; it only fit my pinkie. I was going to take it off when I noticed this little bag at the bottom. I think it was velvet, purple and soft. I dumped it into my hand and was looking at my necklace. My "amulet" as Armand said with his weird ideas and drama. That's where it had gone, the little thief. He had kept it too. All this stuff said that he loved me; then why had he decided to pull a Lestat?
I stood up, stuffing the necklace into my back pocket. I was so pissed, so miserable, so damned lonely. I loved Armand, and I couldn't even tell him. Picking up a lamp, I hurled it at the huge mirror. The glass busted and I remembered us standing, looking in it together. At ourselves, at each other. That just made it worse.
I trashed the room in a matter of minutes, then was scared that he'd find out. That made me laugh out loud. He wasn't there.
"You aren't here!" I screamed, laughing and crying at the same time. "You aren't here and I want to die." Shit, that was it. Bang, hit the nail on the head. I couldn't live without him. It was that simple. So what the hell was I supposed to do?
"It's a reason
Why I'm down
I am beaten
And pushed around.
It's a ceiling
Without a sound
Everyone I know
Considers me a clown."-Oleander, "Why I'm Here"
I stood up, pouting, and looked around. Under other circumstances, I would have been really proud of myself. Hurricane Daniel. Wait, I think there really is a Hurricane Daniel. And no, it wasn't named after me!
So I stood there holding a fancy blown glass bottle Armand had picked up in India. I had found it under his bed. Why a vampire keeps a bed, I'll never know. Unless it's for...well, the other stuff besides sleeping! I looked at the perfume bottle, remembering when Armand had gotten it. God, we must have been at that stinky booth for like two hours. I'd still been mortal. It had been one of my whining nights. You know, give it to me. I don't want to get old and die. Blah, blah, blah. Now I was falling asleep on my feet while my little imp was bargaining with this old lady who was probably three feet tall. First of all, Indian has never been my best language. (Hell, my English isn't that great!) Second, there were more exciting things to do. Like make me into a vampire. I was seriously considering pinching my nose shut because of the stink when Armand nodded and smiled. That's his happy, satisfied gesture. Works like a charm on the person it's aimed at. And, right on cue, the smelly woman smiled back and took the coins he held out.
He turned back to me, took my arm, and strolled away. When we got to the hotel room, which the roaches enjoyed immensely, Armand set the bottle on the bedside table and looked at it, his head cocked to the side.
"Do you like it, Daniel?" I had shrugged, and muttered something. "It's precious, because it is so beautiful and delicate." He knelt down in front of the chair I was sitting in. "Like you. That is why you are so precious to me." I was so pissed I bit a piece off the cigarette in my mouth.
"Oh, no, don't give me that." We argued for another hour. I should have been a lawyer. At least I would have gotten to be some kind of blood-sucker.
Finally I got so mad I stood up and over him real quick. He hadn't been expecting that, and I knocked him off balance. Sharp little gasp, and I turned around to see him kind of crumpled on the floor. "Shit" was the only word running, no flying, through my head. He looked up with those too-big eyes and they were all red. I had no freaking clue what was wrong. It was the first time I saw him cry.
I kind of tip- toed over to him. He tried to turn away, but (oh bright Daniel!) I grabbed his arm. He whipped his head around; yippee, pissed off vamp. He bared those nasty, sharp, pointed teeth, and my stomach left for a safer climate. I was so scared I almost wet myself, but all I could say was,
"You're bleeding." His whole face, like, softened and relaxed. Those pouty lips closed over his fangs and he came into my arms. He was so cold, but I wanted him to be.
"No, caro, that is how we cry." I held him and stroked his hair.
"Cool." He looked up then, smiling through his tears.
Looking at the dusty bottle, I could still see his dark tears and he was gone. I wanted to die. Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio...
I thought about the other suicided people I knew. Well, not knew personally. Most were famous people who OD'ed or blew their heads off. Not happening. I figured I'd better be the good minion and do what my Boss had done. Hey, I needed a tan anyhow.
Well, I cleaned up his room, throwing out all the junk that I had really wasted. I wanted everything to be right, like, good. I don't know. I wanted to do something right in my life. So, I cleaned house. My mom would be proud.
I thought about my mom, my family. I hadn't gone home for Christmas in quite some time. I thought about going home, final good-byes. Go for the super melodramatic, pathetic exit. But I didn't want to see them like this. I thought about my, um, extended family? Like, the vamp gang. Yippee, back to New Orleans. What the hell. Nothing better to do.
I decided to wait 'til the next night. Who me, scared? Nah. So I climbed into my cozy coffin and snuggled up to sleep. Comfy. I felt so bad, I wondered what had ever happened to my security blankie and my limp stuffed rabbit. I kind of smiled. It's name had been Squid and it had no face...
I dreamed again, about guess who. I saw that we were playing a board game, something really dumb like Monopoly. He was really concentrating, like it was really serious. He was losing. Talk about bad losers; there was no way I could let Armand lose. So I played the game into his hands. My high school coach would have shot me. Don't throw the game, Molloy. But I did, for him. And every time I let him take advantage of me, I got really tired. Shaky kneed.
He won, no kidding. And I was laying next to the game thinking that beige would really be a nice color for the ceiling. Then he was with me, whispering into my ear,
"Come back to me, Daniel." And I was macho man again. But he was like this little kid, he was crying and he needed me. There were other people with him suddenly, trying to get his attention. He went away with them, but he didn't look happy. They weren't like me; they couldn't hold him. He didn't fit against their bodies the way he did against mine. Jerks.
I woke up aching to touch him. Funky dream, man. Aww, how sweet. I got up, getting ready to go. I looked in a mirror and saw the red on my face. Damnit. I'm such a wus.
"There's a feeling I get
When I look to the west
And my spirit is crying
For leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who
Stand looking."-Led Zeppelin, "Stairway to Heaven"
I got out of the taxi, opting to walk the rest of the way. Have you ever had a serious nic fit, even after you quit? Mm-hmm, I was having a nic fit the way people feel pain in body parts that have been lopped off. Not a pleasant feeling. Give me a break. I was gonna die shortly, Daniel -kabob style.
New Orleans is a peachy place. Great night life. But only if you have someone to share it with. Otherwise it's just obnoxious and makes you feel like shit. And I flopped along in such a state and almost shit a brick when I saw this, like, line of vampires outside this church. I mean, what were they doing, giving mortals away? I almost shit a whole building when I saw Louis quietly sneaking out a side door and mosying on down the street. What I wouldn't have given for a trench coat! Subtly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme, I set off after him. It's not that I wasn't in a hurry to die...
He actually started whistling, honest to God. It went real good with my humming. We should have taken it to Vegas. Anyhow, he was real easy to follow, and he led me right to this big, fancy house. My cool, vampy ears could pick up somebody playing the piano inside. Nasty, classical stuff. And whoever it was was playing so damn slowly, I could feel the icicles forming on my nose. Well, I was busy mentally insulting the "artiste" and I walked into Louis' back as he rang the doorbell. Snazzy entrance, huh?
He spun around and whacked me in the face. He's a strong dude, weak nothing! His happy smile when he recognized me was kind of annoying considering the fact that he had just knocked me on my keister in whatever the hell kind of flowers were there. I was never good with that nature stuff.
"Oh, Daniel, it is so good you're here." I rolled my eyes and stood up.
"Yeah, nice to see you too." He looked like a puppy that was so happy he'd wet himself. Not every day you see Louis wagging his tail. His smile and Kermit the Frog-green eyes were really screwing up my bad mood. I couldn't smile; what kind of suicide grins like a moron? Without the drugs, I mean. "Why are you so cheery, Louis? Charles Dickens write a new book?" He gave me this fatherly look; I gagged.
"Non, Daniel. It is...Lestat is alright. He returned to us." Glad they had a soft lawn. Otherwise I would've had a real bruised chin. "Isn't that good, Daniel?" I tried to talk, choked on what I was going to say, and tried again. Damn those words, like peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth.
"Louis, it's great...for you, I mean." He looked at me weird. Figuring I had not grown another head, I decided to clarify. "OK, I mean, like, you got Lestat. I got..." I shrugged. Pointless to bitch at him. Wasn't his fault. He blinked a few times, like he was still confused. Thick skull.
The door opened then, that freaking music getting louder. God, I swear not one vampire likes a little Iron Butterfly in the evening. Marius, now he's smart vamp when it comes to crying. He's got a red wardrobe. He smiled now; everyone was so happy I felt like I was going to puke.
"Daniel, what an unexpected surprise. Come in. Louis, Lestat was only just asking after you." Louis smiled back. Shiny, happy people. I plodded in, my miserable entrance ruined. How the hell could they feel bad for me when they were all just glad to have the Brat back?
After Louis came in I slammed the door behind me. I was ignored. It was like that time I had a tantrum in kindergarten. I screamed and kicked and chewed on the gross-tasting rug. But everyone just went about their petty business. My freaking plastic dinosaur had had his head ripped off by the class bully, and they just took it all calm. Same deal.
"So, what gave Lestat the wake up call?" Marius looked back at me with raised eyebrows. Shit, did I say something rude?
"Sybelle." Oh, that explains everything.
"Who's Sybelle?"
"Armand's child." I flipped out.
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm Armand's child. He doesn't ...he didn't have any other fledglings!" I glanced around at the other vampires who had come in to see the freak show. Oh, yippee, Santino and Gabrielle. Great party life. "Did he?" Confused stares all around. I sighed and counted to ten in Swahili. Well, I made it up, because I don't really know Swahili.
Louis touched my arm and I jumped.
"Daniel, don't you know?"
"What? That he lied, that I now have an instant family?" I could see the smoke coming out of my ears in the hallway mirror.
"No." A new voice, from the stairs. Quiet, accent. I offered up a quick prayer to the gods of brat containment that it wasn't Lestat. Then I turned around. The last vampire I expected to see was my imp, one white hand on the banister. His hair was all wacky; he must have been laying down. I wondered why he had come down looking like that. He never did that... Then it hit me. And almost as if he could read my thoughts, (Duh, he really can't.) he said them out loud.
"That I am not dead, love." No kidding. And he had a lot of explaining to do. Mr. Molloy, the principal.
"Silence now the sound
My breath the only motion around.
Demons cluttering around
My face showing no emotion.
Shackled by my sentence, expecting no return,
Here there is no penance, my skin begins to burn."-Creed, "My Own Prison"
It was pretty amazing how quickly my suicidal tendencies and mushy things I thought about my imp just were zapped out of existence. I mean, he was like Caspar the Friendly Ghost, all perfect little vampire boy, with the big eyes and all that hair. All I could do was stare back at him, but my mind was going a mile a minute. I wasn't the only one for him. There were others. Hell, he wasn't dead! That was a big one. I'm surprised my brain didn't explode.
Marius kind of pushed me forward a little, and Armand's brown eyes had a little hint of red, if I'm not mistaken. His little hand made a fist, not a punching fist, a nervous fist. Then he held his open hand out to me and all the other thoughts were squished by the big one. He's alive. Secondary thought, I'm gonna kill Lestat for writing that. So, I ran toward the stairs, aching to touch him. I mean, hell, if he was a ghost...I wanted, needed to prove to myself that he was real. He didn't move, except to turn to face me as I came crashing up the stairs. Both his hands were out now, and I grabbed them, taking the last steps all at once. Lucky I didn't break my neck. I pulled him off his feet, crushing him to me. I could feel his sobbing breath on my cheek, and the tell-tale wetness of tears. I opened my eyes then, and saw a little kid standing there in the hallway, looking at us with round eyes. He called out, "Sybelle!" and a tall, blonde skinny girl came to join him. At least the freaking music had shut up.
The kid came right up to us as I was trying to kiss my imp. He stood right behind Armand, actually tugging on his sleeve. God, what a brat! I rolled my eyes, and said,
"Jesus, get a life, twerp." He glared at me and stood back with his arms folded. He looked like he was going to throw a huge temper tantrum. I smiled evilly. Cool, maybe he'd get yelled at then. Instead the little twit pulled out a freaking cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. He didn't light it, just chewed on it. Probably pretending it was my head. The skinny girl came forward to stand next to him. It was like facing the firing squad.
Armand pulled out of my arms and went to them. My mouth kind of fell open. They immediately accepted him, petting him while my stomach churned. They both tried to hold him, but he's such a little thing; he's only meant for one. Me.
"These are my children, Daniel. Benjamin." He indicated the Arabian Nights kid. "And Sybelle." That one was real far out there. Kind of starry- eyed, definately a real winner. Not. Armand tilted his head to the one side and smiled. "This is Daniel. My fledgling." They just stared.
"Armand, how are they your children and I'm just your flegdling?" He smiled; that fake smile was going to make me violently ill.
"You are still my only Child of my Blood, Daniel. These are my companions, fledglings to Marius. My...joys." My only consolation was that he didn't sound like he was about to sing the Ode to Joy while he said that. I concentrated real hard (my face probably turned red) and sent some nice little greetings to Sybelle and Benjamin. Something like, "My joy would be to rip you apart, limb from limb." You know, niceties.
Sybelle let a momentary fear bug her eyes out. Then she drifted away. Dropped a little too much acid, in my humble opinion. That little jerk responded by playing dirty; he wrapped his arms around Armand's waist. That's my job, I almost screamed. And that gross music started up again. God, they were sure wearing out that CD.
"Our Sybelle plays well, doesn't she, fledgling Daniel?" Benjamin was almost popping out of his shirt he was so stuck up. I just smirked. Armand pulled away from his pet and came forward to me again. Yippee.
"You've come back, caro. Will you stay?" He looked around, nervous like in a gangster movie. Then he pressed his face to my chest. I didn't know what to say. I mean, with his little pretending to be dead act and then these annoying morons, I should have said go to hell. But he was all snuggled against me, his hair all soft and messed up under my hand. What a decision!
"Just when everything was making sense
You took away my self-confidence
Now all that I've been hearing must be true
Guess I'm not the only boy for you
That's what I get
How could you turn me into this?
After you just taught me how to kiss you
I told you I'd never say good bye
Now I'm slipping on the tears you made me cry."-NIN "That's What I Get"
So there I was. And that's about it. I mean, you didn't actually think I'd be melodramatic enough to stomp out or something, did you? Please. I mean, it's not that I wasn't looking forward to charbroiling myself or anything. But, Armand felt so...so right. And besides, there was no way in hell I was letting that little twerp Benji or spaced out Sybelle get their nasty paws on him. I mean, I'd rather he'd gotten a new obsession with crocodiles than with them. So I muttered blah, blah, mushy crap, "No, I'll never leave you again." He seemed content. He was kind of melting in my arms, like a big M&M. OK, bad analogy, but you get my drift?
But, I mean, he was kind of droopy. Either that or he was batting his eyelashes at me. I thought he might just konk out on me when I noticed him nipping at the button at the neck of my shirt. Definitely a good sign of recovery. But when I tried to join in, lifting his chin to get a little nip myself, he pushed away and stood back, just holding my hands. Now, what made him go all prude on me, you might ask? Well, Miss LSD had abandoned her other lover (the freaking piano) and come to spy. Um, can we say NOT FAIR!!
Not meeting her eyes, like any good criminal, he pulled me down the stairs and into this sitting room. The carpets were, of course, white. I considered taking my shoes off, remembering Great Grandma Molloy's pristine rugs. "You get a spot on them, Danny, and you'll scrub it off...with your toothbrush!" But Armand didn't really seem to care, a little real happy smile on his mouth. He sat me down on the couch, then sat down on the chair next to it. He tucked his legs underneath him, like a little kid who wants to hear a story. I couldn't help grinning back at him like an idiot, then leaning forward to kiss the corner of his smile.
"Oh, Daniel, love, where have you been?" I sat back, wishing he'd join me on the couch. I mean, I'm not so fat that I take up the whole thing.
"Oh, around. You know. Heard about your...um...incident. Decided to see for myself." He frowned a little. That made me plug on. "Why'd you do that, Armand? For a piece of cloth? Hell, were you lonely, feeling bad? I would have been there for you, you know that. Why'd you try to leave me...alone?" My words were getting mighty weepy; not good at all.
My imp bit his lip, real hard. He took a couple of deep breaths, like he had something to say, but didn't. He just bit his lip harder and harder, until a Kool Aid red drop of blood dripped from his pouty lip to his white cotton-covered leg. See what I mean about the inherent hazards of light colored clothing? But I was really pissed off. No excuses, no good ones anyway, and I was yesterday's news. Brand spankin' new fledgling for him. Danny Molloy was...nothing. I stood up fast, watching his big eyes get bigger.
"Nothing?" I screamed, my temper not holding out. "You just sit there, looking pretty, with nothing to tell me. Jesus, what's the matter with you, Daniel? Armand's got fresh blood now, pardon the pun. Doesn't need you." He stood up, coming to face me. He held his ground pretty well, considering the fact that he's about a head shorter than me.
"I owe you nothing, Daniel. Why should I make my excuses to you, who mock and will not understand? As if you ever understood! Remember the vow, Daniel? My broken vow."
I shook my head, denying it all. I was not seeing this, not hearing this. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind for a reunion. Then I noticed my imp's trembling bottom lip, and knew he was ready to sob. So, I abandoned the angry martyr routine and opened my arms to his shaking form. Just as he was breaking down, that little brat came in and whispered something in Armand's ear. Armand nodded quickly, then ran out of the room.
Well, let me tell you, my years of yoga did not help me keep my cool. I grabbed Benjamin's arm and steered him toward the door. He was so damn lucky Marius intercepted us. I was going to tear his freaking head off.
"Benjamin, why don't you see if Sybelle is wanting for company." He silenced the twit's unspoken words with one look, using that evil Roman glare. "And you, Daniel, will sit and reconsider your course of action." I crossed my arms and sulked like the three year old I still was on the inside. I marched out, feeling him giving me that annoying fatherly look. I plopped down on my former couch, and something pinched my butt. No, I wasn't lucky enough that someone had pinched my butt; I had sat on something hard.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the garnet ring I had, um, borrowed from Armand's room on the Night Island. It belonged on his hand, from me. Kind of like a wedding ring. Oo, cool. I mean, everyone else had made their peace but us. So here's the plan. Make up with Armand, take care of his two puny cronies, and buy a new car. Not necessarily in that order. It would be nice to take my imp for a ride in the new car first.
"Tired clothes and vintage eyes
Search for the stars
The world you know lies inside
Velvet dreams and a candy prize."-Second Coming "Vintage Eyes"
I got up, ready to brave the storm. I knew that Marius would whip my hiney if he found out I left. So I behaved exactly like any other juvenile delinquent-I made sure he didn't find out. Old, long-forgotten skills from high school came back to me as I slipped out the back door. And I was extra careful; this wasn't just another Led Zeppelin concert we were talking about here. Roman discipline probably sucked compared to being grounded.
When I made it past the yard, with all my body parts intact, I figured I was safe. Thank God I wasn't in some teeny bopper movie otherwise I would have turned around to (gasp) see Marius following me. But, since I have grown up at least a little, I was pretty chipper and headed over to where I figured I should be going. It was so easy to find Armand I almost had to laugh. Man, that Benjamin was a real twit, and his mind was real easy to read too. And that's saying a lot, 'cause my own guru powers are virtually nonexistent. Anywho, I tiptoed into the little chapel. It was real different from the big cathedral in the Big Apple. Something here was more quiet, and it made me think of when I made my First Communion. I mean, it was hard to remember sometimes that I had been a little kid once upon a time. A little kid wearing a white suit, hands folded, trying not to think about the presents he knew he was going to get and concentrate on what the priest had said to think about. Uh-huh, that's happening. Didn't work then, sure as hell ain't working now. But I remembered the one thing that had always caught my eye at Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel; to the right side of the altar, where the incense-swinging altar boy got to stand, was this statue of a kneeling angel. It used to tick me off that you could never tell whether the angel was a guy or a girl.
Well, in this church, I knew the answer because my demon angel was kneeling at the altar rail, to the right side. His hair curled like the statue's did; it was too perfect and curly and messy at the same time. He wore some baggy white flowy shirt and red velvet pants. Um, excuse the unholy thoughts. He looked cute enough to eat, and he was so still. It has always creeped me out how he just can stay in one position so long. His hands were folded in front of his chest and his head was down. I kind of walked up the center aisle to sit in the front pew behind him. I even genuflected. He was whispering to himself, but I heard him. Thank God he was talking in English for once.
"I sat down beneath the shadow of him whom I desired; and his fruit was sweet to my palate. How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul yearns and faints for the courts of the Lord. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall me, world without end. Amen."
"Amen," I said, then wished I hadn't. My imp's head turned around like he'd been slapped. Jesus, all I'd done was play along and Armand looked like he wanted to bite my head off. To avoid a screaming confrontation in the church, I went and kneeled next to him.
"What were you saying, Armand?"
He gave a defeated little sigh. Sounded kind of like my mother when he did that.
"Two things actually, caro. Canticle Two and Psalm Eighty-three." He smiled a little. "Well, parts anyway."
"I liked it a lot. Armand, before you yell at me, I wanted to say something. And I'll say it real fast so that I get the whole thing out before you explode." I took a deep breath and pulled the little ring out of my pocket. "OK, this is tough. Armand, I love you more than anyone, and it really hurt me that you tried to kill yourself. I mean, it's a federal crime, for God's sake!" I grabbed his small hand and kind of shoved the ring onto his finger. His brown eyes were like this tiger's-eye ring I had in high school. "Well, say something, damn it!"
He stood up real fast. I still stayed kneeling, just watching him. Then, deliberately, he yanked the ring off his finger and threw it at the rail. It bounced off the wood, leaving a great dent. Some priest was going to have a coronary when he saw that! My mouth dropped open and then I found my dumb old feet walking me right out the door. Damn it, that wasn't what I wanted to do! But, out I went. And I didn't even turn around. Hell, maybe it was better that way. At least I didn't end up a pillar of salt.
"So close, no matter how far.
Couldn't be much more from the heart.
Forever trust in who we are
And nothing else matters.I've never opened myself this way;
Life is our's, we live it our way.
All these words I just don't say,
And nothing else matters."-Metallica, "Nothing Else Matters"
Okay, so I left. Walked out, didn't even genuflect in front of the altar. Well, I wasn't an altar boy anymore, twenty lashes with a wet noodle. I wandered around, getting pretty well lost. See, I'm not real good with direction in the first place, and New Orleans is not my centre of operations. When I was a little tyke, about four years old, I had gone into this mall foyer to see the big Christmas tree they had set up. You know, it was like a million miles tall and had ornaments that Mom just didn't put up. Well, this foyer thingie had more than one entranceway, and when I went to leave, I couldn't find the right one. My dad was in the car waiting (and I did know what the car looked like) and when I stood on the street, that car was not there. Well, my first thought was that my father had been abducted by aliens. Believe me, that is what every four year old dreams of. But after about five minutes, which seemed like five hours, I was scared shitless and ran back in. Some lady that worked there found me crouched with the presents under the tree, bawling my eyes out. She helped me out; for years I was convinced that she was my guardian angel.
Anywho, this really doesn't have much to do with my story. I mean, really, it's kind of embarrassing that I got lost going around a Christmas tree. But it was that same lost feeling that I had walking through the streets, kicking cans and newspapers, and even a cat that got in my way. I was almost proud that I had left my imp standing alone, looking stupid. Usually it's me in that position. But the more I thought, the more I felt bad. I mean, who could he run to? That Roman who'd whip his ass? (Whoo-hoo, and mine if he discovered that I was gone!) Those jerks who didn't love him? Sybelle and Benjamin? Yeah, I'm going to be ill. All he had was me, and maybe he was only playing hard to get. I couldn't even make a second go at it; I had left the ring in the church.
So, I almost pissed my shorts when I found myself in front of Marius' big ol' house. Lassie had come home without even intending to. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe I had discovered my sense of direction. I decided not to press my luck, though. Well, knocking didn't seem like a real smart option, so I snuck in the back way again. Ha, he'd never know I was missing! I figured that I'd go sit quietly in the sitting room, pretend I was really meditating on his "words of advice." I tip-toed, humming "Tainted Love" under my breath. I learned about irony in Literature 101.
And it was claiming my life like the Blob. Well, not exactly so gooky and sticky. But, Armand was all curled up on the nice, big couch. He was asleep, really asleep, like mortal asleep. He had one arm tucked under his head, the other curled up against his chest. There was a piece of hair in his slightly open mouth; it was driving me crazy. Not a long drive...
His boots were flung across the room. My guess is that he had come in in not such a great mood. I felt a second of evil triumph. He hadn't had that peachy a night either. Served him right, arguing in a church. I went closer to get a better look. Yup, he had scrubbed at his face with his nice clean sleeve, but now the evidence was everywhere. Blood tears smeared on his white cheeks and screwing up his shirt. White, of course...
He even had red all over his hands. It looked like he had torn someone apart bare-handed. Looking closer, I noticed that it wasn't that much blood, really; he had the ring on his finger. The stone was near his mouth. Like he'd been kissing it, or something. His breath was kind of fogging up the shiny surface.
I unlaced my sneakers, then climbed over him and lay down behind him. It's great to have a smaller Maker. Or a bigger couch, I guess. I wrapped myself around him like Cling Wrap. Cozy, all warm from feeding probably. I could feel his heart going 'cause my hand was on his chest. Comforting. It was like a real proof he was alive. I know, I had seen, touched, and talked to him, but somehow that biological proof made me feel better. I should have headed for pre-med in college instead of journalism.
It got a little boring after a while, but there was no way I was giving up my seat. I kind of wished there was a TV in there, but Marius probably played senet for fun. Or crocheted. The mental image that conjured up was too much; I managed to keep the hysterics silent, but my shoulders were shaking like I was having convulsions. I really tried, honest, but Armand moved a little, making quiet little noises in his throat. It was like holding on to a toddler while he woke up. I craned my neck to watch his face while he opened his eyes. I swear, he fluttered his eyelids like Sleeping Beauty.
As soon as he opened them all the way, I slammed my head back down. Playing dead, like when my mom would get me up for school. Maybe he wouldn't know I was there. Yeah, right, and monkeys fly out of my butt!
"Nights in white satin
Never reaching the end.
Letters are written
Never meaning to send.
Beauty I've always seen
With these eyes before.
Just what the truth is
I can't say anymore,
'Cause I love you."-Moody Blues, "Nights in White Satin"
You know, I saw Disney's "Sleeping Beauty" awhile ago. To be truthful, I think I saw it with Armand in one of those movie theatres that smell like rotten popcorn and bodily fluids that should not be in movie theatres. Well, what can you expect at the late, late, late, late, late showing of a Disney classic? Live appearances by Mickey Mouse? Besides, it actually was better than seeing psychotic women who never put their guitars down while they tell you about your aura. And, added bonus, it's easier to cuddle in a dark movie house.
Anywise, back to the point (if there was one to start out with). Armand straightened out somewhat, pulling his hair out of his eyes before he had even opened them. He was so pretty asleep; I almost didn't want him to wake up. When he was asleep, or even mostly asleep, we didn't argue or have to worry about the past or the future. I could just look at him and he could just dream of me. OK, well wishful thinking is a good thing. I mean, self-fulfilling prophecies and all.
Before he woke up, I wanted to prove that I could be sweet. For senior prom, I had been the perfect gentleman all night. The corsage actually matched her dress, I held the gymnasium doors open for her; it all worked great until I opened the car door for her to get in and slammed her ankle in it as I was closing it. Even then, I signed the cast with a smiley face.
I leaned over my imp, and he turned to face me as if he knew I was there. I put my face down real slow, easing my lips onto his. I didn't grin, or laugh, or spit. Perfect gentleman. As his soft mouth, like, melted against mine, I remembered my first real kiss. I had been so freaking scared that I used my tongue like I was licking a sucker. Real romantic. I like to pride myself on the fact that I no longer kiss like that. It was all cool, James Bond-like. I bit his tongue a little and the blood was like a little taste of the drug we like to call ecstasy. Exploding stars and everything.
"What the hell happened to your shirt, Armand?" I half-growled at him as I tugged at the fancy pearl buttons. He smiled, not shyly at all.
"Must've spilled some wine, love." A thrill went through me like you can't imagine. He called me "love." He didn't call his little drooling cronies that. I realized that's why I was his fledgling, not his child. We were lovers, and not sick enough to be into the family thing. So, by saying "fledgling" I was actually made into some better thing. He had not "dirtied himself" by making them into vampires. Marius had made the big boo-boo.
His body was almost fragile, still white and glowy. I had forgotten how dark his eyes were when they were really huge and staring right at you. They got closer and closer as we kissed again. It seems almost wrong to talk about it. I mean, this kind of shit is usually smutty and skanky, but it just isn't like that with Armand. Stroking him isn't nasty, it's heaven and can't be wrong. Kissing every inch of that skin isn't dirty, 'cause his skin is so white that it's worship. And when his silky hands are everywhere, it's to die for. I was very glad for that big velvet couch. Let me tell you, velvet on your skin in a situation like that is much nicer than the gravel I was on while being made into a vampire.
It was pretty cool that no one walked in on us either. I mean, can you imagine the color of Louis' face had he walked into that little make-out session? Or the nasty, nasty comments spewing from Lestat's "clean" little mouth? Or just the things ol' Grandpa Marius would be thinking? But, there was nothing. I swear, it was more of a miracle than that stupid dirty rag that Armand went sunbathing for. Of course, for all I know, they were all listening in and getting their jollies that way.
But it didn't matter, really. Let 'em all listen in. Let 'em in to watch the action live. Might have to charge admission, though...
Somehow, though, it all worked out and we lay there after everything. He was curled up on my chest; I kissed the ring on his finger. Clothing was laying in heaps around the room. I liked the new dˇcor. He was falling asleep again. He was tired a lot. I wasn't mad at him for that though; he went through tons of crap. He needs to get some rest. And if he gets it with me, who am I to complain?
I have to admit it; I kind of like it when we fight. Because the making up afterwards is always the best.
"Been around the world and found
That only stupid people are breeding.
The cretins cloning and feeding,
And I don't even own a TV.Put me in the hospital for nerves and then
They had to commit me.
You told 'em all I was crazy
They cut off my legs
Now I'm an amputee, God damn you."-Harvey Danger, "Flagpole Sitta"
I got up to leave; it was like pulling away from something I was stuck to with superglue. I didn't want to go, but there were certain things (two certain things in particular) that I had to deal with. Now, I'm not dropping any names, but their initials were "S" and "B." No hints though.
I stood looking down at him, all curled up again. I figured he might get kind of cold, dressed in as little as he was. Unlike my mom, Marius didn't keep a nice fuzzy blanket on the back of the couch. As fun as it would have been to dress Armand, I decided he needed the rest. I picked up my ratty old denim jacket and laid it over him real carefully.
I almost forgot to get dressed myself before leaving the room, which would not have been cool. I jumped into my jeans, and pulled my t-shirt over my head as I walked into the hallway. No one in sight, though I thought I heard Lestat's voice upstairs. It sounded like he was with Louis so I figured that he wouldn't bother me at all. Other than them, I couldn't hear anyone else in the house. Kind of weird; it wasn't that close to dawn. Maybe they'd all gone on a nature walk, I don't know. I bounded up the stairs, cutting the corner too fast and almost falling back down the stairs. I got my balance and veered left into the room that Sybelle always disappeared into. I'm not a great gumshoe, but I figured that was where that piano was.
I was very happy to find that she was out. I looked around for a means to wreak my revenge. For the first time since senior prank, I had no ideas. Until I noticed that the piano was not just any ordinary piano, it was a player piano. I immediately pushed every button on the damn thing, finally finding the song menu. It was time for her to expand her musical horizons; first song on the list, Black Sabbath's "Ironman." Now, I didn't want her to get stuck in a rut. I put the thing on random play in the hard rock category; she'd get to hear a lovely selection of Kiss, Alice Cooper, and a little Guns 'n Roses on the side. I considered putting up cardboard cut outs of the groups around the room, but I thought the music would be shocking enough.
As I pushed the final button, sealing her doom, I heard a little sound behind me. I was praying it wasn't Armand, but then I heard his thoughts. Benjamin, trying to figure out with his limited cortex what the hell I was doing. He was dressed like Lawrence of Arabia and I had no clue what to do to him. See, my intentions are always really good, but I never plan far enough in advance.
"I should tell Marius what you're doing, fledgling Daniel," he started and then the wicked thought dawned in my brain. Grabbing his scrawny little arm, I dragged him bodily from the room. He's a strong little sucker, but I managed to get him up another flight of stairs into some guest room that I don't think had ever had a guest.
I shoved him into one of the closets and struggled to slam the door against him. He was seething and sputtering.
"Aw, shut up already, would you?" I muttered at him. "Try to make me all scared 'cause of mean ol'Marius? Well, try this on for size, pea brain. If you scream and disturb Armand's beauty sleep, Marius will kill you. Or, if you break down this door and screw up his house, Marius will kill you. Think about it." I swear to God, he was so stupid that he stopped fighting and let me shut the closet door. It was a neat old door with a skeleton key which I quickly turned into place. I left the room; there was silence. What a moron.
As I was walking down to the sitting room again, I felt a hand on my arm. I thought it was Marius and turned around already apologizing. I met a big grin; it was Lestat.
"What are you so guilty about, Daniel?" I cringed.
"Nothing."
"Well, then, since you are perfectly innocent, I'd better make sure everyone stays out of that upstairs room." I blinked a couple of times. The Brat Prince was going to help me?
"Of course," he answered, reading my thoughts. "If I can't be causing trouble, I sure as hell better be helping someone else cause some." We grinned at each other. Kindred spirits.
I galloped down the rest of the stairs, running into Armand at the bottom.
"Love, close your eyes." I did, expecting him to hit me or something. Instead he slipped something around my neck. "Alright, open them." I did and just had to kiss that angel smile.
"What did you do, Armand?" He took my hand and put it on my chest. There was something laying on my shirt. I angled my head down at a weird angle to look at it. It was that locket with his blood in it that I hadn't had in so long. I didn't ask where he'd gotten it again. I just grabbed him in a big hug and just held him. We were back together and better than ever. I knew it was almost dawn as he tugged me down to the cellar. But I was already making plans as he kissed me good night, or good morning, or whatever. All I needed now to make my life complete was a new car. A new Corvette maybe. Or an antique Corvette. Didn't matter. As long as my imp is in it with me, letting his crazy curly hair get all messed up by the wind. Dimly, I heard the piano above let out the dulcet tones of Black Sabbath. I smiled in the darkness. It's good to be the Vampire Daniel.
"Breathe, breathe in the air
Don't be afraid to care
Leave but don't leave me
Look around and choose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is your life will ever be."-Pink Floyd, "Breathe"
THE END...FINALLY