Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur, non-profit fiction and is not meant to infringe on the copyrights of Anne Rice or her publishers, or EMI Music Publishing. The story is mine, anyone who tampers with it, or tries to pass it on without my permission, remember, I know where you lie! Spoilers up to and including The Tale of the Body Thief. Dedicated to my great nephew, Robert Charles Black...born 24/2/99..and now the victim of meningitis...may the angels claim you soon little one. By Beverley [email protected] I sit and wait Does an angel contemplate my fate? And do they know The places where we go When we're grey and old? 'Cos I've been told That salvation lets their wings unfold So when I'm lying in my bed Thoughts running through my head And I feel that love is dead I'm loving angels instead. 'Angels'Robbie Williams I waited under the shelter of the oak tree, watching the frenzied activity from afar, my fingers entwined in Mojo's fur. A little piece of me was frightened that if I let him go that he would desert me too. I hated myself for displaying such a mortal weakness as the fear of abandonment, but then hadn't I always harboured this anxiety. It was as much apart of me as my arrogance and determination to succeed. And look where that had got me. A sudden coughing fit took over my whole body and the pain in my chest doubled. A tight, constricting ache, it matched the anguish that I felt in my heart that he had denied me my salvation. The coughing ceased and I wearily flopped down, resting my back against the solid comfort of the tree. The fire truck was about to go. I heard the voices from its crew as they prepared to return home, no doubt happy that this fire was just another mindless arson, no casualties, just a few pages of paperwork and tonight would be filed away for prosperity. Pity it wasn't that easy for me. My body was starting to shiver again, great uncontrollable bursts of discomfort, and the fever was beginning to wrap its tendrils around my limbs. I could feel the pinpricks of sweat on my brow and I wiped them away angrily. How I loathed the fragility of mortality and I cursed myself again for whatever reasoning had possessed me to want to try this real life experiment with hell. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, they say. Well, I had tasted it and I could not agree. It left a very bitter taste in the mouth of this vampire. "Mojo, my old friend," I rubbed him behind the ears and he laughed, that familiar canine expression of devotion. A lump formed in the back of my throat, and I shut my eyes tightly, but that only brought back the image of Louiscondemning me to this suffering. A single tear forced its way from under my eyelids, and ran down my cheek, burning a trail in its softness. I had been so sure that he would not refuse me, so sure that he would want to take me as I had taken him all those years ago. And even after burning his little house I still loved him desperately. Even the flames had not destroyed what I felt for him. Would he ever know just how much he had hurt me.I doubted it, Louis was always caught up in his own vision of hell to want to listen to my ramblings. File it away, Lestat, and use it to strengthen your character. I had failed in the task of trying to destroy my love for him, and failure was something that was unknown to me, until now. Wearily I forced myself to stand, using the tree as a lever. Mojo leapt up, instantly eager to please me. His encounter with Louis seemed to have left him unperturbed, thank God. If Louis had killed himI shuddered at the thought The rain was still falling although it had faded to a dull drizzle, the kind that soaks into your bones and chills you from within. I hung my head against its onslaught, aware of the tangled, dark strands of hair clinging wetly to my face. No more a halo of gold for this soul. I had bartered it to the most charming fiend, his silken words had trapped me in his web and now I was the fly stuck with this mortality whilst he was free to create his havoc with my body. Pausing at the corner to wait for Mojo, the anger coursed through me, racing and dancing before my eyes. I struck out at the wrought iron railing beside me and felt a jagged edge pierce the palm of my hand. A shooting pain ran down my arm and I drew my hand back in shock, gazing as the wound bubbled with blood only to be cleansed by the driving rain. Mojo whined beside me, sensing my discomfort. An attack of dizziness swam over me and I clutched at the fence, but to no avail. My reactions were too slow and I ended up in a heap on the floor. So, it had come to thisThe Vampire Lestat reduced to a quivering, pitiful, abandoned creature "I won't let it end like this, Mojo!" I cried, as he sniffed around me, licking my face. With what was left of my sense of direction, I tried to calm my thoughts. No way could I make it to my Penthouse, but Lafayette was only a couple of blocks away. My secret chamber was inaccessible, but I knew of a few more little places where I could rest until the fever broke. Maybe I would succumb to an even worse fate and die there, I mused. Wouldn't that be the irony of the centurymight even bring a smile to Louis' serious face.nodon't think of him..the pain in my head throbbed with each heartbeat as I staggered onhe doesn't care about you.never did..just a game to hima way to get his revenge for what I did to him.. As if in a nightmare mirage the gates of Lafayette loomed, chained tightly against intruders. I held onto the ironwork and peered through into the silence of the tombs, so beautiful in their solitude, little castles of the dead, forever a reminder of the frailty of human life. What had possessed me to want to taste the fruits of this again? Because I wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and to revel in the headiness of food and mortal couplings? Or the fact that he offered it to me and I knew that it was forbidden, so I had to capitulate? Mojo sniffed the air, the hackles on his fur rising and a low growl rumbling in his throat. With great difficulty, I turned my head in the direction of his attention. Could it be Marius again, come to cast another disapproving silent glance that spoke a thousand words? A breath of night air caressed the sweat on the back of my neck, sending cold shivers down my spine, and stubbornly I held onto the framework of the gate. If this was a delegation of immortals come to pass judgement on me for my rash actions I wouldn't face them on my knees. A sliver of moonlight illuminated the snowy façade of an aged tomb, still lovingly cared for by the descendants of the entombed. And he was there, crouched in contemplation like a little gargoyle from hell. I laughed to myself, the sound sticking in my aching throat. It had to be him, didn't it? The one who had shared some of my most intimate secrets, and the one that I considered my equal, although I would never have admitted it to him. He had cocked his head to one side, like a bird of prey, studiously watching my every move, waiting to move in for the kill. The copper curls fell over his face, obscuring his eyes but I knew every detail of their sienna depths. How many times had we almost shared a heartbeat, how many times had I wanted to wrap him in my armsor extinguish the light from those eyes for all eternity? He was my Armand, my enigma, the puzzle I would never solve. Beseechingly I raised one hand to him, letting him see the anguish I was suffering mentally and physically. Not a glimmer of movement from him, and I started to wonder if this was all an hallucination. Completely crushed I pressed my head against the comforting coldness of the metal. He had simply come to witness my defeat, like they all would come, even my beloved fledglings, all sent to see how the mighty had fallen, how breaking the rules led to the ultimate penance. Well, let them come and pass their verdicts and crucify me with their judgements. At least they would remember me as the last one of our kind that dared to want more than a living death. The questions would always be out there, screaming for someone to answer, but they would never listen, not now. It was a great shock when I felt his hand on mine, that icy grip snapping me out of my near delirious state. And again I saw him as a mortal perspective, just as I had seen Louis, those few short hours ago. Such perfection, moulded by the gods as an instrument of death. The youth eternal, gifted with an adrogenous beauty that reflected from every angle of that delicately boned face. The breeze whipped the curls across his face and they cork screwed wildly, but he didn't seem to notice. Just the gentle pressure of his hand on mine reminding me that he wasn't a dream. "For the love of God, help me," I whispered, imploring him with every fibre of my being. "God does not know how to love, Lestat," he answered softly. "If he did he would not condemn us to this." He shrugged his shoulders and slowly raised his hand to touch my cheek. "Armand" I offered him my bleeding hand, willing him to take me and make me his. Surely that would be impossible for him to resist, my ultimate submission to his advances. "I cannot give you what you desire, Lestat, not now. Your sentence has been passed for your misdeed." Lightly he brushed his fingertips across my lips, bringing his head closer to mine. "But I can give you this." I saw the crimson well up from between his lips as his hand travelled to the back of my neck, ensnaring me in his trap. With a moan I opened my mouth to his, shivering as his blood filled my mouth, and swallowing it down greedily even though the taste of it made me gag. All too soon he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine for an instant. "Remember that you are The Vampire Lestat, even in this frail skin. Find a way to triumph over this or learn to live with the gift of mortality." His words seeped into my head and I was dimly aware of the pain in my head reaching a new height before slowly retreating to a minor ache. I felt the tear on my hand knitting together with his preternatural blood. And now the fever was breaking leaving me coated in clammy sweat, but able to rationalise. Pointless looking for him, the imp would be long gone by now. Or would he be watching me from afar like a little guardian rogue? I was never sure with Armand. I slapped my hand on my thighs and Mojo leapt up, his tail wagging furiously. Armand's words echoed in my head.find a way to triumph, or learn to live with mortality. I smiled lazily to myself, the thoughts suddenly crystal clear. I wasn't beaten yet; victory would be mine for I knew that I would never settle for a mere mortal existence. And what of Louis? The only crime I had committed was loving him too much, I always had. Love is blind, but I would survive.
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