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Lestat hurried
after Louis following him into the stable.
A young groom with a friendly, black, handsome face was combing
down Louis' favorite steed
"Why are you out here so late? Rolland, I must ask you to leave
if you please," Louis said politely, putting enough force in his
voice so Rolland would know he meant his request to be quickly
obeyed.
Rolland's head turned towards Louis and his expensive looking
friend He scratched his woolly head, squinting his eyes, trying to
make out Louis better in the darkness Louis was standing in.
Something about his master wasn't right. His appearance it didn't
make sense somehow. It was too pale, out of focus. Almost like the
shining jack-o'-lantern lights Rolland would see hovering above the
swamp when he went hunting with his friends for alligators to
provide more meat on the table for his mother, brothers, and
sisters.
He took up his candle, approaching Louis.
Before he could come any closer Louis blew his candle out.
Rolland backed away to the light of the lantern hanging by the
horse's stall.
"I believe you were told to leave," Louis said gently. Lestat
stood closely behind Louis.
Taking a path around the two, Rolland hurriedly left. He didn't
understand why, but Rolland felt as if his life wasn't going to be a
second longer if he didn't leave fast enough.
"What are you going to do? Go out riding then?" Lestat rapidly
questioned him, "I ordered you to stay on the plantation."
"Why?"
"I told you why there are dangers which you are not yet ready to
face, nor are you aware of yourself significantly enough to hide
your preternatural appearance from mortals."
"I'm not going riding," Louis said softly, putting his hand to
his race horse's back. The horse shied away, shaking it's head in
it's halter, trying to pull away. What was before him, the being
stoking his neck and back didn't smell right to him.
Louis laid his head on the horse's back, his arm flung up over
the animal's back. "The two of you haven't met. Lestat, this is
Satan's Gold. Satan this is Lestat."
"He's a fine animal," Lestat said sincerely, "You know your way
around horse flesh, Louis."
"Merci, he has won many a race for me. I love riding him. There
is nothing as wonderful as Satan when he breaks out into a run. I
know what it means to fly when I ride him."
"So ride him Louis," Lestat said kindly, "We'll go for a ride
together. I would like that very much. I'll put off my errand to
town. It's a clear night. I would enjoy your company if you could
manage to be civil for once."
Louis reared his head up from the animal's back. He ignored
Lestat. He stroked the animal's silky smooth black hide. The muscles
beneath the horse's flesh were true and strong. He was a horse of
much breeding and elegance. The huge heart of the beast was beating
fast.
"I'm going to kill it."
Lestat took two steps forward. He pulled at Louis' arm.
Louis shook Lestat's grip off.
"What do you mean, you fool? You're going to kill it? You love
this horse! Damn it to hell. Is this meant to be a affront to me?"
"To you?"
"To show your contempt for what I created you to be? If it is
Louis the hell with you. I will not be insulted. Back away from that
horse before I lose my temper entirely."
"You'll lose your temper? Now who is the fool? I want to
experience death in degrees. I started with the smallest of animals
first; cats, dogs, rats. And I found their blood not to be entirely
lacking. It was the spark of their brute life their bodies contained
which stood out the most. I want to kill something which means
something to me."
"Why? Why? Why hurt yourself? Why punish this animal?"
'I will someday graduate to the nightly taking of human life.
Till then I want to learn how to appreciate another being's life to
the fullest. I appreciated the life I found to be in small animals.
And now I will discover what it is like to kill a large one." Louis
eyes glittered dangerously.
"Then kill another horse, an old nag, damn you," Lestat swore
distressed at the very idea of such a handsome healthy animal being
destroyed.
"Nightly, I will kill someone who means something to a mother,
father or a child. Listen to me Lestat I want to know what it feels
like to love something only to have it killed by a vampire." Louis
said softly, watching Lestat closely for a betrayal of the truth
about Paul's death to appear on Lestat's face or in his words.
"Kill your sister, or mother than," Lestat said spitefully, "I
will be pleased to kill them for you."
"You will not!" Louis said angrily, raising his fist, grabbing
the lantern ready to throw it into Lestat's face.
"Damn you, I was only making a joke in bad taste. Put the lantern
down."
Louis hung it back on its nail.
Gently, Louis nestled his nose on the animal's neck. His strong
hands holding on the reins. He kept the animal in place.
Lestat watched fascinated. The horse first pushed with its hoof
at the straw and dirt in its stall. It whined softly. It's great
black eyes stared to dim over as if milk had been injected into
them.
It's forelegs collapsed out from under him. The horses body fell
to the ground. Louis swung his leg over it. He pressed his leg
around the animal's neck. Lestat could heat a low cracking sound of
the spinal cord breaking. The horse shivered convulsing in its
throes than it died.
"Why?" Lestat asked stunned, going to the animal, putting his
hand on its still shoulder.
"Because I loved it," Louis said reflectively.
"You're such a depraved monster you must not allow yourself to
love anything?" Lestat cursed.
"Shh, Lestat," Louis said running his hands down the animal's
flank, "I feel, I feel detached, my feelings are for the most part
superficial. As if my feelings I had for this poor beast have always
been shallow. Do we feel this way in order to protect ourselves from
guilt when we kill?"
"Non. How can you say you feel nothing at all?"
"I feel an empty sort of admiration for what used to be. A desire
for it to be alive again. And an acceptance of its death. A peaceful
resigned acceptance."
"Louis many of our kind kill only the evil doer," Lesat said
hesitatingly.
"Then why didn't you kill me? Wasn't it my evil anger which drove
Paul to his death? You say you did not kill Paul."
"Why would I kill you, or Paul?"
"Why wouldn't you? You feared Paul's interference."
"Then why not kill all of your family? It would have been easy
enough to arrange. All I would of had to do was wait for them to be
together in their carriage. I could have easily killed their
coachman, and drove their carriage over a cliff, perhaps into the
swamp. "
Then who or what was it who killed Paul? Did I drive Paul to kill
himself?" Louis questioned. "Paul was insane. I overheard the slaves
talking about how he heard voices. Paul was seeing things when he
cried out for you for help," Lestat said desperately. "His madness
drove him to kill himself."
"My brother was not a suicide," Louis said.
"Oui, so you say. Paul inflected marks on himself."
"How do you know so much about Paul?"
"Slave talk, gossip, tell me the truth did Paul inflect injuries
on himself?"
"Oui," Louis said softly.
"There is your proof than," Lestat said boldly. He heard a sound
behind him, before the person making the sound could run away, he
caught her. In his arms was a struggling Omphale.
"Ah, here is the reason your groom stays in the stable so late,"
Lestat said, lifting her off her feet, holding her high in the air.
"Non, my poor pretty, there is no Rolland here. Can we be of
assistance to you?"
"Please, monsieur," gasped Omphale, her skirts bellowing out
around her as he swung her around "Please, let me down. I swear to
you I am a good girl."
"But, my pretty. We have so much, you and I, to say to one
another," Lestat winked savagely at Louis. "Surely you would gossip
about us if I let you go."
"Gossip about what?" she said fearfully.
"Monsieur put her down," Louis demanded.
Lestat's mouth flew open, before Louis could even see Lestat's
fangs he bit into the young slave's neck. His straying hands were
caressing her strong flesh hiding under her simple dress. Her eyes
fluttered, first she tried to claw him, she tried to yell for her
gods to come to save her. Her rounded breasts rose and fell as she
tried to breathe. The more she kicked and struggled the tighter he
held her till she could swear her bones were breaking. He took her
with a matter-of- fact violence.
Flinging himself on his back, Louis tried to pull Lestat off.
Back handing him easily, Lestat sent Louis crashing into Satan's
Thunder's stall. Lestat's bloody mouth touched her neck with his
kiss. Her body was as limp as a rag doll she stole from her
mistress, Therese, when she was a little girl. Therese had so many
dolls Omphale had been right when she guessed Therese would not even
notice the old neglected doll gone.
He resumed his feeding from her. Omphale felt a coldness seep in
on her, all she could remember were long muggy days of work, and a
few nights she thought she was special to a man. Lestat soon held
nothing but a close to dying woman in his arms.
"This is the proper fare for men of our tastes." Lestat said
carelessly, "Bury her for me would if you please." He flung her body
at Louis' feet. "I left for you enough in her for a good drink."
Lestat turned from him not wishing to see the magnificent horse's
broken body for a second more.
Tenderly, Louis put a horse blanket over Satan's Thunder's body.
With equal gentleness and a fury which he repressed inside of
himself he gathered Omphale in his arms. Damning Lestat to hell for
killing yet again another one of his slaves. Her black face was
turning grayish under her colorful scarf. He saw she was still
breathing. Through it was tempting to him to finish killing her, he
held her instead, comforting her, moved to sing her a lullaby, she
seemed so small. He wondered at himself for not being afraid of her
dying. He knew only days ago he would have been frantic, running
around, making every effort to save her, simply because she was
human and he was afraid of death. Very slowly her heart gave out on
her. The shock was too much for her to stay alive. Her death seemed
a beautiful frail thing to him like a flower wilting and dying
before his eyes. It saddened him that Lestat used Omphale to make a
point. The point didn't make any difference to Louis. He took her
outside to his mother's garden and buried her amongst the roses and
iris. He chewed his lower lip.
Perhaps Lestat is right, perhaps I am punishing myself.
His body nervously convulsed I'm afraid to kill another human
being. Afraid how I'll feel afterwards. I had to see what kind of
feelings I'm capable of having before I kill someone's brother,
sister, son, or daughter. Why does Lestat have to be so capricious.
so cruel? He makes a mockery of everything and everyone.
The kill of the horse had been a thrill, having such power and
dominion over a magnificent animal like Satan's Thunder was awe
inspiring. It was like he rode the horse to his death.
He left the stable going inside the house to his den.
He was surprised at how icy cold the den felt. An invisible Paul
was sitting on the leather couch his hands pressed together. Worry
was on Paul's face.
Louis rubbed his arms. He took himself to his chair , opening up
his ledger. He sighed, really not up to work. The look on Omphale's
dead face haunted him. It haunted him to want to kill someone just
like her. He felt a little tense and fearful, concerned his emotion
over killing Satan's Thunder, and over her death would rise up in
his mind in one explosive blast. He wondered if he would be capable
of dealing with a deep rush of grief and guilt.
He pulled his desk drawer out.
On top of a slim novel, "Justine" by Marquise De Sade was a
daisy. Louis picked it up by its stem, wondering how in the world it
got into his desk drawer. He supposed one of the slaves, perhaps
Yvette dropped it in there.
The daisey's yellow center with its white petals raying out
touched him. He decided then and there to order Yvette to put cut
flowers through out the house. He thought of Jamie for some reason.
Twirling the daisy in his long fingers, Louis tied to dismiss Jamie
from his mind. Finally he laid the flower down. Louis looked at his
appearance in the mirror. He frowned at his being half naked. He
went upstairs for a new shirt and summer great coat, He left the den
to go to Old Sally's.
Paul went over to the flower picked it up and smelled it. He then
disappeared,
Lestat stormed into Armand's town house.
"You didn't knock," Armand said, looking up from his piano he was
playing Mozart on, "Never feel you have to."
"He's driving me insane. Insane I tell you."
"Lovely, now two insane vampires to deal with. And whose fault is
that?" Armand said dryly.
"Mine I suppose," Lestat laughed, flopping in a chair. Out of all
the vampires he had ever met, he had to admit to himself Louis'
appearance was the most appealing through his personality left a lot
to be desired of. Henri's appearance though it had much merit to it
was a trifle effemitive. Henri made himself deliberately so, worse
he often acted more vampire than most vampires did, contorting his
limbs grotesquely or too gracefully, rather than aping human being's
physical limitations. Armand's face was too much a vampire's face,
beautiful with all its cruelty ready to raise to the surface and
flare up in a rage like a hot white flame. Nicky, Lestat's first
love, he had a sneer for face. Non, Louis' face was most human like,
gorgeous in its outrages, pleasant in its calm.
Lestat started to laugh a little harder.
Are you laughing at me again?" Armand asked not unpleasantly.
"Non, non. Louis he both amazed me and amused me tonight."
"How so?"
He killed his horse."
"How repulsive," Armand said, hiding his bitter smile under his
hand, "Well, I suppose your little fledging has adequately proven
his unbalanced state of mind."
"He isn't unbalanced, he's terribly analytical through. He shies
away from feelings. He reacts to situations rather than starting
ones. He sits and reads, waiting passively for something to happen
rather than making it happen, When he does react he can be quite
explosive and surprising."
"Can he be?" Armand said with a pinch of contempt his voice, "And
so how was he amusing to you?"
"He dressed for me. He tried to seduce me tonight," Lestat said,
slapping his riding gloves on his thigh.
Are you not already seduced?"
"Oui, Louis has no idea how much I'm seduced. Armand, enough of
Louis, he tried to seduce me to pump me for information about Paul."
"Tell him. I'll tell him."
"You will do nothing of the sort you will stay away from him."
"You think you can tell me what to do, and I will abide by you
every wish, your every command?"
"Lets just say" Lestat said, baring his fangs, "I asked you for a
favor, leave my fledgling alone."
"Or what you will kill me?" Armand said, starting up a merry tune
he heard in a tavern on the piano.
"Killing you is an unpleasant thought one of which I do not like
to entertain myself with. Armand the deed of creating Louis has been
done. There is no need for it to damage the regard I hope is mutual
between us."
"Why are you here?"
"I can only take Louis for so long. His nastiness his moodiness
finally his many silences, drive me away, not to mention his
accusations," Lestat said ruefully, "Armand. there is a German
wedding tonight. Let's attend I have a bag of coins here for the
bride. We can make merry with the girls. Do their peasant dancing.
Your are a dancer who has no rival in excellence. I'm in the mood to
laugh in someone's company tonight."
"And you want to laugh in my company tonight?" Armand cried, now
making no attempt to hide his hurt feelings "Here, Lestat a joke I
played on you. You handed Nicky over to me, now I hand him back to
you."
Armand opened the drawer of his secretary desk, throwing two
fleshy appendages at Lestat.
The dismembered hands flew at Lestat smacking him on the chest.
Lestat picked up one, making a face of disgust. They were fresh;
bleeding and flexible. The fingers curled.
"Human hands," Armand laughed, "I cut them off a factory worker.
Notice the calluses. They are rather large hands, he was a big man."
"I don't understand," Lestat said bewildered, "What has this to
do with Nicky?"
"I would give you Nicky's hands. Ah Lestat, such elegance they
were, long, strong fingers, slender palms, the wrists thin.
Consumed, I'm afraid, like the rest of him, I killed him Lestat I
killed Nicky. He was quite brave about it, he bit into his burning
arm to keep himself from screaming till at last he became too
overwhelmed with the pain and his screams would not stop."
"Why?" Lestat said softly, dropping the hand,
"Why? Why not? Here Estelle wrote you a letter about it."
Lestat read it, a cold tear of anger falling hard on his face.
Springing at Armand, his sword at the laughing boy's throat, he
cut into Armand's face, throwing him on the divan
Raising the sword to hack off his head, Lestat hesitated. The
blow fell into the cushion instead next to Armand's head.
Armand stretched himself on the ruined divan. He hid his face.
Blood spilled from his face, out from between his hands and fingers.
His chest fell up and down in aggravation. "Do it," he cried
bitterly, "Why not?"
Lestat kneeled beside him, taking his handkerchief pressing it to
Armand's face.
"How can I blame you? The blame falls on us both," Lestat said
wearily. Then with a blow to Armand's injured face, Lestat cursed.
"Why did you have to drag Nicky into our coven in the first place.
The tortures you inflected upon him Letting our members take turns
biting him. Why? He would still be alive today."
"How do you know that? Any accident could have befallen him,"
Armand said defensively, "Any illness. Why did you make him a
vampire? You no longer wanted him. You gave him to me. He was
telling mortals what we all. I had to kill everyone he showed his
fangs to. Enough, it was enough to put him in his final resting
place, now despise me as much as I despise you."
"Non, don't," Armand pleaded weakly putting his hand to Lestat's
shoulders, trying to push him away. Armand's arms finally held
Lestat, drawing him closer. Lestat kissed Armand's salty mouth,
kissed him with a sad bitter passion, pulling Armand's shirt up
caressing his chest.
Lestat's kissed Armand's forehead. Armand's face was a mess. His
wounds were starting to heal. His lashes were damp with tears.
Leaving Armand, going to the door, Lestat opened it, and stepped
outside Fall was in the air, a cold crispness was staring to edge
into the summer's heat this evening,. Music; violin, accordion
trumpet music was in the air. The rollicking frantic pulse of the
sounds of a wedding took sway over Lestat's mind. He wanted to twirl
and dance. The moon up above was huge as a pumpkin and was all
coldness. Lestat wiped his face with the back of his hand. He hugged
himself. The night seemed exotic with waltzes, smelly with cooking,
and noisy with drunken shouts.
The night was a Nicky type of night. Nicky coaxing beauty from
the strings of his violin. A night of glitter and glamorous madness.
He could see Nicky's slender figure, his long curly brown hair
swaying. Nicky dancing on the cobble stones of the street, his
violin under his chin. His hands holding the bow, hands shining
radiant with the luster of frost in the moonlight. Was it but a
dream? Lestat dreamed of he and Nicky still mortal, dancing and
leaping around a Febuary bon fire, trying to keep warm, falling into
each other's arms, thinking they were teaching each other about true
and lasting love? Nicky dancing away.
Going inside he found Armand changing from out of his bloody
shirt.
"Let's go to the wedding. Are you ready to dance with me?" Lestat
said gently, taking his hand. He missed Nicky, but in too many ways
Nicky died for him a long time ago.
"I'm ready, always been ready to dance with you," Armand
breathed, his auburn head on Lestat's shoulder.
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