Confrontation
by Paula
This is a work of speculative fiction and not intended to infringe on
the rights of Anne Rice or her publishers.
Reborn is the sequel to Reborn.
Spoilers for all VC up to QotD.
"Santino, please come with me." Armand begged once more as he finshed
packing his case.
Santino sat on the edge of the bed and held the
lid of the case down as Armand locked it. "No, ragazzo. You need to
spend some time with your friends, I understand that."
Armand moved
the case to the floor and plopped down beside Santino on the bed.
Cuddling into his arms, Armand continued his argument. "But, they would
welcome you. You know that."
Reluctantly, Santino admitted
something that had been preying on his mind ever since the victory over
Akasha. "Armand, I will not be alone. I am going to Burma to seek out
Maharet."
Armand shot upright and pulled away from Santino, his
eyes full of shock, "No! Please, not alone!"
"Don't worry. I have
already contacted her and she is expecting me. I will do nothing to
deliberately antagonize her, ragazzo. She has put up with my existence
for centuries so I don't believe she will burn me on sight." Santino
joked.
Armand was bristling with a combination of anger and fear.
Jumping to his feet, he began to pace furiously. "How long have you been
planning this? Were you going to tell me at all? Santino, I don't like
it. When we left her home in Sonoma I could see the hatred in her
eyes."
"Armand, I am sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want
you to worry. Besides, do you honestly believe that she is that much of
a danger to me? I pose no threat to her anymore. Eric is safely out of
my reach and she never seriously threatened me, even when I was with
him. She just showed her displeasure at our
relationship."
Santino pulled Armand back into his arms. "Trust
me ragazzo. I need to do this. I have to face her and find out why she
dislikes me so much and see if I can do something about it. I wish I
could make you understand! For some reason her antagonism haunts me. I
have done nothing to her, and yet she seems to hate me even more than
Marius does. And you must admit that he has good reason for his
hatred."
Armand nodded grudgingly, and picked at the buttons on
Santino's shirt. "All right, but promise me that you will not try to
shield yourself from me. I need to know that you are
safe."
Armand was so agitated that another thought escaped his
mind. Santino picked it up immediately. Armand was worried that Eric
would be there. He was jealous! Sighing, Santino hugged Armand, kissed
the top of his head and assured him, "Armand, I am going there for no
other reason than to speak to Maharet. She assures me that we will alone
and uninterrupted. I will agree not to shield myself from you as long as
you stay out of whatever happens. I need to be able to concentrate
totally on her. No putting answers in my head, OK? You, in turn, must
promise not to follow me. You must remain with Louis and Lestat until I
return."
Armand started to protest vehemently but Santino was
firm. "Promise me, Armand."
Armand mumbled something too low for
even Santino's vampire hearing to understand.
"What did you
say?"
"I said, I promise!" Armand blurted into Santino's shirt.
"But I still don't like it."
Santino put a finger under Armand's
chin and lifted his face until his lover was staring into his eyes.
Placing a soft kiss on the upturned lips, Santino stated, "It will be
over soon and then we can get on with our lives. This is very important
to me, Armand. I need to do this."
Santino then quickly pushed
Armand to arm's length and smiled down into the concerned face gazing up
at him. "Now, be on your way. And don't stop until you reach New
Orleans." Turning him, Santino patted Armand's behind in farewell.
Smiling ruefully, Armand picked up his case. Reaching up, he grabbed
Santino by the back of the neck and pulled his head down for a long,
deep kiss. "Please, be careful." Armand murmured against his lover's
lips. Then he went out the door.
After Armand had left, Santino
picked up the small case he had packed earlier. If Armand had noticed
it, Santino would have been in even more trouble. Stepping outside, he
locked the door, checked the area to assure that he was unobserved, rose
quickly into the air and headed west, ahead of the morning sun.
Several long hours later, covered with ice, Santino set lightly
down in the garden of Maharet's Burma home. Brushing the ice crystals
from his clothes and hair, he looked around. The lush blossoms and
leaves were dripping with early morning dew and the grass was glistening
in the moonlight. The night was alive with the music of crickets and
night birds. Santino listened in appreciation for a few minutes and then
turned toward the house.
Maharet stood in the open door, the
light from the room illuminating her slim elegant figure. ::Morning
approaches. I have a room prepared for you:: Turning, she walked back
into the house.
'Greetings to you too, Maharet' Santino thought
to himself wryly. But what could he expect? He had practically invited
himself here. Maharet would never have proffered an invitation. The
reason for this was precisely why he was here. Sighing, he walked into
the house.
The sun had barely set when Santino opened his eyes the next
evening. Staring at the ceiling, he counted the small tiles, which were
set in an intricate pattern above his head. Now that he was here, he was
strangely reluctant to take the next step. Sighing, he threw back the
covers on the luxuriously soft bed and climbed to his feet.
He
padded into the large, elegant bathroom. A shower large enough for the
entire coven took up most of the space. :She enjoys her comfort: he
thought wryly. Bathing quickly, Santino was soon back in the bedroom.
Pulling clean garments from his case, he dressed rapidly. His innate
sense of discipline would no longer allow him to procrastinate, so he
let the room in search of Maharet.
She was standing by the
fireplace in the sitting room watching the flames leap upward in their
futile attempt to reach the sky. Santino stood quietly, waiting for her
to acknowledge him. He would not barge in on her as her very age
demanded his respect.
Finally, she looked up at him. Her face was
completely devoid of emotion and welcome. "Do you need to hunt before we
talk?"
Moving further into the large beautiful room, Santino
answered, "No. I am fine."
"Then please, be seated." Maharet
moved to a large comfortable chair and sat down stiffly. Carefully
arranging her emerald green silk caftan about her legs she avoided his
eyes. After a while she shot a glance at him. "Now that the niceties
have been taken care of, what precisely do you wish to discuss with
me?"
Santino sat down on the couch and stared at his tightly
clenched hands. His knuckles were white and his palms were bleeding from
the pressure of his nails biting into his flesh. "I am sorry, I don't
know of any other way to say this. I need to know why you hate me and
what I can do to change it."
"Hate you? What makes you think you
think I hate you?" Maharet's brittle sounding voice shot back at
him.
Santino looked up into her face. She had acquired fresh
mortal eyes very recently, he noticed. "Maharet," he chided gently, "I
have seen how you treat the others. I have seen your protectiveness
towards them. Yet, when I enter a room, your lovely mortal eyes turn
cold with disdain and you ignore me completely unless forced to
acknowledge my presence. I thought it was because of my association with
Eric but that ended years ago. He is very happy with Khayman and you
seemed satisfied with their relationship. But where I am concerned,
nothing has changed."
Looking back down at his hands, he brushed
the drying blood off his palms and continued, "I have never really been
concerned about others' opinions of me, but I always understood their
reasons. I have to admit that your dislike has begun to haunt me to the
point where I can think of little else."
Maharet's face had
hardened at Santino's statement. "You tell me, Santino. Why do you think
I would hate you?" Her voice practically dripped ice.
Santino
hesitated, then gathering courage, he blurted out, "The
coven".
Before Maharet could respond, he continued. "Maharet, you
must understand. I believed that what I was doing was right. I believed
in my faith, and I still believe that by doing what I did, I protected
the members of my coven."
"What of the so-called rogues that you
killed, Santino? Were not their lives as valuable as those of your
coven?" Her voice was now filled with venom.
Santino was so
deeply entrenched in the past that he took no notice of her hostility
and plunged forward with his explanation. "I never killed wantonly,
Maharet. I always approached each one and gave him a chance to join the
coven. They were endangering all of us with their lack of discipline and
carelessness."
"A chance? Is that what you call a chance? They
were living their lives in freedom, unfettered by your false faith. What
you did was no different than what the mortals did to each other in the
name of faith during the Spanish Inquisition! Tell me, did you approach
Marius and offer him this choice?"
"Yes, I did. He laughed at me,
and told me that if he ever saw me again, he would kill me." Santino
closed his eyes at the memory.
"It is too bad he didn't." Maharet
blurted.
"It is too bad he didn't." Her words echoed in
his mind.
Santino opened his eyes and stared at her in shock as
Maharet covered her face with her hands. "I am sorry, Santino. That was
uncalled for." Her voice conveyed a deep weariness. Lifting her head,
she asked, "Tell me. Why did you leave the coven?"
It was
Santino's turn to look down at the floor, "When I ordered the attack on
Marius, I was already beginning to doubt the rightness of my actions.
The time I spent with Armand only confirmed it. I may have converted
him, but his beauty and the purity of his heart were my downfall.
I began to be lax in my duties; duties that I had originated.
Other members of the coven began to be suspicious of me. When it became
unbearable to remain there, I simply walked away, leaving everything
behind. Had it not been for a chance meeting with Pandora and Eric, I
believe I would have gone into the sun."
"Eric." Maharet's voice
was bitter, and her face hardened once more.
Santino sighed,
"Maharet, I know you believe that I took Eric from you, but that isn't
true. Mael was with you by that time and Eric felt like he was
intruding."
Maharet started to protest, but Santino hurried on.
"I urged him to return to you, but he said he needed to live his own
life. Years later, when you and I argued over Jesse in Sonoma, I once
again urged Eric to remain with you but Mael was still there. I believe
Eric was jealous. I am telling the truth, Maharet. You know this. I have
not tried to hide a single thought from you."
Maharet nodded
stiffly, her eyes still full of hostility. "I believe you. Is that the
end of our discussion?"
Santino stared at her in astonishment,
his mind churning furiously. Finally, he answered, "No, I don't think
so. Nothing I have said has made any difference has it? That means there
is something else. Tell me Maharet, please. What is the real cause of
your hatred? What have I done that is so unforgivable?"
Maharet
stood and moved in quick agitated steps around the room. Whirling, she
faced him. "You saw the map I made of the Great Family on the walls in
my Sonoma house? After he nodded, she continued. "I have made that my
life's work. I have followed different branches during the centuries.
They are all my children. I have wanted only the best for them. Can you
understand that?"
Once more, Santino nodded in confusion. What
could this possibly have to do with him?
Maharet had returned to
her chair and sat tensely on the edge of the seat. "One of those
branches extended into Italy. It was not a wealthy or powerful branch,
just common people who spent their lives trying to survive. I was very
proud of their tenacity and ambition but they had one burning weakness.
They had become avid followers of Christianity. I knew it would be their
downfall, I was just not aware of how quickly."
She paused for a
long moment, seeming to need to gather her strength. "I am sure you
remember the Black Plague." Without waiting for Santino's response, she
continued. "During this time I made an enemy. His name was Marcus. He
was an old and powerful vampire. I will not bore you with the details of
how we became enemies. I just want you to understand that he was willing
to do anything to hurt me.
Somehow, he had found out about the
Great Family. By that time, there was only one surviving member of the
Italian branch and he was already showing signs of the disease. Marcus
found him and attacked him. But he did not kill him. Oh no. That would
have been too kind. Instead, he made him into a vampire and then took
him to the loathsome Children of Darkness. He knew I would have rather
seen him dead!" She spat out in rage.
Santino sat there, numb
with shock and horror as the truth began to sink in. He felt frozen with
realization. His maker's name had been Marcus!
"You were
everything he had hoped you would be, weren't you, Santino?" Maharet
snarled. "You were the epitome of everything I detested. Did you not
wonder why he never returned to the coven? Why your maker never returned
to you? Marcus made the mistake of telling me what he had done. He
wanted me to know his triumph. That mistake was his final one. He never
left the room alive."
They sat in silence for a long while, each
one lost in thought. Finally, Santino looked at her sadly. "And now,
Maharet? Are you still ashamed of me? I have tried to atone in some
small way for my actions. I will always remember the pain I brought to
others with regret. That will never leave me. If I am indeed your
descendent, you must understand that."
When she didn't answer,
he sighed and stood up. "I will no longer bother you, Maharet. I
understand your hatred now. Just please believe that although I know it
is impossible, I will continue to try to make up for my actions in any
way I can. Not for you, but for my own sake. I will leave you
now."
Santino walked back to his room to retrieve his case. He
was still shaking with shock by her revelations but everything she said
made perfect sense. After all, one tended to forgive strangers, but when
one of your own was guilty, it was an entirely different
matter.
He slowly packed his small case. Looking up, he saw the
tiles he had counted only a short while ago. He was beginning to regret
ever getting out of bed. Sighing he started for the door.
Santino
walked silently down the hall, the portraits on the wall seeming to
condemn him as he passed. As he reached the exit, Maharet's voice called
to him hesitantly. "Santino?"
Turning, he stared at her in
confusion. Had she forgotten yet another crime he had
committed?
"Per-, perhaps at some later date we can talk again."
She whispered hesitantly.
"I would like that, Maharet," he
answered sadly, his heart lurching with a faint hope. "When you wish to
speak to me, just call and I will come."
"Perhaps next time you
can bring that little snoop who has been listening to every word we have
been saying." The look of mischief in her face made her look like a
young girl.
Santino could feel Armand's indignation at her
statement and he laughed. "I will bring him, Maharet. Thank you."
As he walked out the door, Santino felt the urge to look at her
one last time. Turning, he saw her watching him. "Thank you, Maharet."
She nodded in acknowledgement.
Santino lifted into the night sky
for his flight back to Armand, his mind churning with mixed feelings. He
felt sorrow for all that had happened and yet he was relieved to finally
know the truth. He and Maharet might never be close but now he knew they
could co-exist in peace. He could live with that.
Sending out a
silent call as he climbed high into the cold night sky, he felt the
touch of Armand's mind. Suddenly content, Santino called to his love,
::Armand, I am coming home::
The End
