Title: Louis Blue's Flowers for a Little Girl

Author: Kris

Fandom: Vampire Chronicals

Pairings: Louis/Lestat/musician/Claudia

Status: on going

Archive: Yes

Feedback: fine

Series: Louis Blue

Email: myost@charter.net

Site: http://louis3004212.nstemp.net

Warning: Some may think this is child porn but keep in mind Claudia in a grown person trapped in a child's body. I did not go into detail about her making love. Also very graphic sex between two men

Disclaimer: I don't own them

Summary: Claudia finds a lover

Notes: This happens after provocateur

Spoilers: to vampire Lestat

Louis Blue's Flowers for a Little Girl
By Kris

Inelegantly sprawled on a high back chair, Louis absentmindedly stared up at a painting of a young lady holding roses. His long slender hands hung loosely between his open legs. Satin knee length stockings and tan boots were wrapped about his shapely calves. Lace hung over his slender wrists, and gloves hid the gleam of his vampire nails. He looked like a polite young man trying in vain to hide his boredom. Just a hint of worldliness was on his full, ripe lips.

"Isn't the sherry to your liking my dear boy?" asked a stout, ruddy gentleman, "you haven't touched a drop."

"Mon ami, poor soul, he isn't a sherry drinker," Lestat said, pulling his lace and wide cuffs back from his wrists, readying himself to play the piano.

Louis could hear the bitter sweet jibe of sarcasm under the superficial gentility of Lestat's voice.

"Nor are you a sherry drinker, monsieur," Louis whispered, too softly for the mortals in the parlor to hear.

Lestat's lips twisted in a tight sardonic smile. He pressed each key of the piano with a light and sure touch.

Claudia broke out into a grin she tried to smother with her hand. The De Blanc family consisted of a prosperous, merchant father, an unremarkable matronly mother, and five little one who resembled their mama and papa in one way or the other. All of them wore dutiful little smiles. Their ears were wide open to to the pretty small girl standing with such proper posture on her stool, ready to sing to them for their entertainment.

Claudia composed her lips from her wide grin to a prim smile. Her mind went back to the first time she had sung for an audience. At the fashionable parlor of the Le Fontaine's. She had opened her mouth and no song the La Fountains could hear came out. Her mouth to mortal ears seemed to be vacant of sound, her fathers alone, her magnificent fathers, could hear the bell like tones emanating out of the open oval of her mouth. Lestat had arched his head back. One of his grudging smiles of shy approval lit up his face. He kept those smiles in reserve for it was not proper for a well breed gentleman to show too much approval of his daughter. Louis could only stare at her, a look of melancholy on his face as he soaked up the perfection of her other worldly voice. The La Fontaines could only gape at her confused with no understanding of what was going on.

Finally, Madam La Fontaine decided the child wasn't making fun of them, clapping her hands, she said, "Ah ma cherie. My poor petite you are suffering from stage fright. Do not be afraid of us. We will be kind during your performance. We shall not bite you."

Lestat went to Claudia, and whispered, "Do it correctly my little fool. Would you have them laugh at you? Think you timid? Sing so they can hear you. Your papa and I hear you enough times at our leisure. It is time to sing to the "grave bound ones".

The night of her first performance Claudia lowered her voice to be heard at the same level as the voice she was now using tonight for her umpteenth performance. As usual her thrill of a voice held the adults spell bound. She noticed the five children ages seven through three were listening attentively enough. Their eyes through wandered.

She stopped her sad song she was singing, remembering the warm La Fontaines, their two children, their funerals she did not attend. Of course neither would she attend the eventual funeral of the De Blanc children, or of their parents.

She marked the three year old to be the one who would die first two weeks from tonight on the last week of the warm month of June. She could picture the little girl already dead in her coffin. Next, she would kill the seven year old boy, her father Lestat would insist on killing the five year old, she would allow him his wish without a fuss. Lestat had a craving for auburn haired children she noticed. She would kill the rest and would also insist on the mother, she always did, through her father Lestat would pretend to grumble and argue with her. In the end he would with a great show of being a put upon, and of being a long suffering parent, he would cave in to her desire to kill the mother. As she knew he would even before they started their so called tussle with words. Lestat would dutifully take the less choice cut of meat by killing the father Always the children would die first. She remembered the time Lestat suggested they kill a father and mother first. She had flown at Lestat hammering him with her small hands, screaming, "No child should be hurt like that." She had trouble even looking at Lestat weeks after that. Forgiving him only after he took her to her favorite opera.

"Would you like a cookie?" Madam La Blanc offered, holding out a tray to her.

"Non, Madam, my father, and my uncle, they do not allow me treats. It's ruinous to one's teeth. How can I in good conscience stuff myself with cookies when so many children beg the streets these days?" Claudia asked piously.

"Ah monsieurs. you both are too strict with your Claudia. Are you bringing her up to be a nun, n'est-ce-pas?" She beamed at her own healthy brood of children whose hands fell upon the cookies. Madam brushed their faces and their cheeks with her plump hands. She was a woman so far lucky Only one child, her first died, and this in an age where children died all too easily.

"We require our daughter to be as perfect as her maker," Lestat said dryly, flexing his long fingers.

Staring up at the ceiling, Louis coughed.

"Ah, no one can be that perfect. As perfect as God, not even a saint," Madam said, smiling, shaking her head, "What a burden you have placed on a child."

"Come Omphale," Claudia said, climbing from the little stool, taking the three year old's hands, leading her away from her brothers and sister, "I want to play dolls with you."

Omphale took Claudia to her bedroom

"Let me play too," Paulette, a pretty girl of six asked, trying to get in.

Shutting the door in Paulette's face, Omphale trapped inside, Claudia opened it the door a little bit, saying, "I'll play with you when it's your turn. Go play with your brother Francis."

Maneuvering Omphale to be seated at her vanity in front of her mirror, Claudia undid the child's braids, combing them out.

"I love your hair," Claudia said, running the brush through the strands, "I love you."

"Claudia?" Omphale whispered, "Do you have?"

"Oui, I do," Claudia whispered, pulling out a tube of lipstick, "Ah, a great actress who worshipped my father, Lestat, she gave this to him to remember her by, so tragic, she took ill, and died in his arms. She could have been my new mama if she hadn't died."

"Not really?" Omphale asked, her eyes wide.

"Non, not really," Claudia whispered in her ear as she smeared the lipstick on the girl's lips.

Giggling, Omphale did Claudia's lips the same favor. Omphale scrambled out of her chair, running to her dolls.

"Would you like to see my new baby?" Claudia said in a high voice, holding up one of Omphale's dolls. A pretty blond girl doll.

"Oh oui," Omphale said holding up a doll with long flowing brunette tresses.

Claudia made the doll "walk" and "talk, taking it to where a doll's cradle was, she said, "What a beautiful baby. So pretty like you. Babies this pretty were made to live forever in heaven," She reached up and touched Omphale's cheek.

After a while Claudia took Omphale's hands, skipping with her down the stairs. Paulette followed skipping down with them. Claudia noticed to her satisfaction the glint of envy and sadness in Paulette's blue eyes.

"Papa" Claudia said happily, climbing up to be snuggled in Lestat's lap, "I want to go. I'm sleepy." Throwing her arms around Lestat's neck, she whispered, "I want Omphale tonight. I can not wait till the end of the month." She cast a long glance at Louis. She well knew he could hear her.

Louis looked way. Claudia smiled wanly, scolding herself for taunting her overly sensitive father, how could she bring herself to stop her bad habit of tormenting him?

It poised on Lestat's tongue to tell her, non, she should practice self control. He saw the sad look on Louis' face, too.

"My cheri, you are more than welcome to kill her tonight," Lestat whispered, relishing the distress on Louis' face.

Sighing, Louis stood up, "Madam, we must bid you adieu, our little one, we must put her to bed."

"The hour does draw late," Madam said, "Merci for you performance Claudia. You have a very beautiful voice. You are such a little grown up."

"Merci," Claudia beamed, curtsying to her.

They took their leave of the La Blanc's home.

Louis kept any protests he had about the future epidemic of murder Lestat and Claudia were going to let loose on the La Blanc's family to himself.

I can not cause you any pain or remorse over what you are, Louis thought to himself about his daughter.

"Carry me, father," Claudia whispered to him.

Louis scooped down, picking her up, her long, plump legs wrapped themselves around his waist. Her head found a place on his shoulder.

I love how your cologne smells, she thought. She blushed, holding him too hard almost.. It hurts, these horrible feelings, I am not sure about how I feel for you.

Feelings of being mixed up and confused ran through her, I know you love me You say it again and again, but why, how? I bring you joy when I play like a little girl, and sorrow when I be the demon I be. Am I a demon? Am I normal. Are we normal? She clutched at him harder, a warmth gathering between her thighs, blood calling out in her for a kiss from her father Louis, always even before she could put a name to how she felt, she felt aroused, stimulated, wanting to touch herself and to be touched when she was held by either of her two fathers. She knew somehow she wasn't responsible for how she felt, she knew of one of them were responsible.

Louis sucked on me, I sucked on Lestat the night of my creation. Who first put these feelings first in motion? she thought. She touched her neck, the skin throbbed and ached where she touched.

"Claudia," Lestat said taking her hands away. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait to kill Omphale? I hate for her to die the very night of our third visit. It's too soon."

"Now," Claudia breathed, pressing her small face in Louis' hair which curled at the nape of his neck.

"Claudia," Louis said gently pleading, "Perhaps Lestat is right. You should wait to kill her."

"That's the coward in you talking Louis," Lestat said smugly, "I was just testing you, cheri. Your courage is your papa's pride. Murder the child tonight by all means. I'll escort you."

"Merci papa," Claudia, thinking. Ah Lestat makes you angry when you fall into one of his traps, ne'st ce-pas Louis? Claudia patted her dark father's cheeks to comfort him while she smiled up at her golden father.

Lestat smirked at Louis.

She dreamed of how the evening would end. She and Lestat climb up the walls of the La Blanc's home. She would will the window to open, the curtains would part out of her way. On her slippers she would prowl to the child laying on the bed. Pulling back the covers her father near by, her lips and tongue would taste Omphale's dear sweaty neck, and there would be a fall of moisture between them. Then she would suck, and first fear and dread would gather up like bile in the back of her throat. An angry tug of a memory would haunt her and for a moment she would remember it was she who once was struggling to survive, struggling so hard she didn't even have the energy to waste tying to scream for help. Then the narcotic flow of blood would flood the nightmare fear away. And she would be trapped in a thrall which no longer overwhelmed her as it once did when she was a very new fledgling. Death was an erotic event for the victim only if they willingly succumbed, otherwise if they fought, death could be terrifying and painful. How would Omphale die? She could not predict. She would embrace Omphale till Omphale was cold, and she herself was all too warm. Then Lestat would take her to Saint Louis' cemetery where he would prance and dance with her, lifting her high up in his arms for the moon to admire her.

As they walked, she thought, Why do we like to hurt you so papa Louis? Is it because you like to keep to yourself, aloof from us? I swear you keep what papa Lestat and I most want from you. Your passion. You deserve for us to hurt you. Perhaps, I want the passion of another if I can never truly have yours, papa.

(2)

Claudia drew up the hot cocoa to her mouth, letting the heat and steam of the liquid radiate onto her small face, relishing the delicious warmth of it. Her papa Louis stretched his legs, passively watching the mortal drinkers of coffee, tea, or wine in the cafe. He did not seek to engage any one of them in eye contact games. Games he often times utilized to lure a man or a woman to runaway with him to a secretive hideaway far from the fraternal herd of protective mortal eyes.

"You should not be judgmental of Lestat and I when we fell families," Claudia said flirtatiously coaxing him to debate with her.

"Claudia," Louis said gently, holding his wide, porcelain cup to his face, "it's so, so coldly premeditative of you and Lestat."

Claudia's face became reflective. "When I was a little girl I did not understand half the time, non, many times what I was doing when I killed. All I understood was that I was being good to myself. The definition I had for the word "good," was to kill and to be sated. That was all there was too goodness. When I watched Father Lestat killing a person, I was often times excited, and I felt him to be a good man, and as I grew older I couldn't help but question our brand of goodness. I felt I had seen too much goodness too soon. Invading human beings lives, their privacy when I had no idea of the consequences of what their endings might mean. Lestat and I, we comfort the fathers and the mothers of the children we kill. We comfort the left behind siblings. Tonight, we will visit the De Blancs. Lestat will give presents to their children, and cheer them up for the loss of poor Omphale. And when Madam and Monsieur have lost all their children, they will be all too willing to join them in death. Unlike you we do not cut asunder families Louis. We keep them intact."

"Lestat enjoys playing the trickster," Louis said dissmissivly. "Goodness has nothing to do with it. It amuses him to pretend to lie to his victims. He doesn't care about them. He adores to betray their trust in him."

Father of Lies," Claudia mused, "with his dear daughter Deception. He teaches me the art of lies and betrayal?" Claudia asked, amused at Louis's sadness. He was so amusing.

Never have I ever seen your sadness rear up to become anger. You always seem so quietly resigned to my mental tortures of you, Claudia thought, feeling a mixture of glee and sadness too for how she mistreated him.

"Oui, he teaches you to betray those who love you," Louis said, a plea in his voice for her to have some empathy for him.

"Who would love me?" Claudia scoffed," mortals? Are you referring to the mortals, who fall in love with what they think they see and want? Me, all packaged up in a little girl's skin with a bow in my hair. They love me not, no more than I love them. Tell me what I was like when I was a little girl?"

"You were as beautiful as you are now. Very quiet. I remember once when we were on an outing a little boy threw a ball at you. It bounced right off of you. You stared at it, then you stared at the child, as if you were trying to remember something."

"A connection. I was trying to remember what play was like," Claudia said softly, "You see the feelings inside of me after killing were so intense I often times would sit in a corner of my mind, and let myself simply get over my emotions in order to calm down. It would cause me to forget everything. I actually forgot about the concept of playing. I knew there once was a connection between myself and other children. I could not relate to them, and I didn't understand why I
was so different from them. When I was a child it seemed my life rocked back and fourth from one misunderstanding to another. My mind would blank out from having memories of every day mortal interactions."

"I worried for you often times," Louis said, brushing her hair with his hand. "Sometimes, when you were not being contemplative, you were an eager student. Spelling, mathematics, everything you absorbed. But, you never seemed to be able to absorb sometimes the activity which was going on around you."

"I got over it, Claudia said perversely, "I would reenact the kills with my dolls. It made me understand who I was, and what mortals are," she said kissing Louis' hand, "Tell me more."

"There were times you were an inquisitive, happy personage, who loved to play the piano too fast. You always liked to read, but asides from your dolls."

"I never really played childish games," Claudia said quietly.

Louis rubbed the graininess of his sugary pastry onto his finger.

"Have you ever been attracted to a child?" Claudia said, putting her small hand to his large one squeezing it intimately.

"Have I been?" Louis said startled, bemused at the misplaced admiration in her eyes, "Claudia, you know we are not attracted to anyone. It's only the blood which we take from out victims which enable us to find any real emotional fulfillment."

"When you were mortal then? I'm trying to understand why did you choose me, and not a woman? What attracted you to me?"

"You wanted so very much to live when I found you beside your mother's corpse, and I so very much wanted to kill. I was delirious only for your blood, and the fact you were a child made the act all the more heinous. For years I denied my nature keeping my kills to animals. Your death ushered me to the truth of what I am. You're being a child made it possible for me to kill any man, woman, or child. It threw me over the edge of my very nature," Louis mused, "Claudia, I
once was attracted to a child."

"Who?' Claudia asked, her eyes widening.

"I was wrestling with my brother Paul. He was but fifteen yeas old. We were shirtless. Our bodies were rubbing against each others. Inexplicably, I found my lips on top of his. We were breathing hard. His mouth stared to open. His tongue pressed against my mouth as if nothing in the world tasted to him as wonderful as me. His eyes were all at once frightened, desirous. He was so ashamed, so innocent, so full of curiosity. Our hearts pounded against each others. We laid there like this; lips on top of lips for seconds, waiting for the kiss to disappear, or to intensify. It could go either way. I remember how he smelled, so much like a boy just barely starting to become a man. I started to caress him under his arms. His skin was almost hairless, and so smooth. I had a selfish urge to be his first, to have my handsome brother be infatuated with me, to be his first lover, his first teacher, to protect him from his first time being perhaps a loveless fuck done on to his body by a man who only wanted to seduce him. I loved him, I told myself, so how could it be wrong? My hands itched and burned to part Paul's legs."

"What happened?' Claudia asked eagerly.

Louis smiled "I tousled my bother's hair, and got off of him. I knew it would not be fair of me to make my brother be my lover. To be the one to disillusion him about love. Through I will admit after what happened, I subconsciously flirted with him. I decided Paul needed a a paramour, so I picked out one of our slaves, Jamie, for him to have intimacies with. I never talked to Paul really. I only tried to fix things for him the way I felt they should be fixed. I lost my brother. I did not believe him when he told me he was in love with Jamie and wanted to runaway with him, a simple colored boy, or when he told me about the voices he was hearing. He was so distraught,
when I told him I was going to send him away from Jamie, He had hallucinations of devils chasing him. He fell down the gallery stairs. I was so angry I blamed everyone including myself. I even in a drunken rage almost sold his lover, Jamie, to a sexual predator."

"What happened to Paul's lover? Can I meet him?"

"He died. A vampire killed him."

"What a sad story," Claudia said sentimentally as she was prone to do when she read a poem, or a love story, "Lestat killed him then?"

"Non, it was another," Louis said uncomfortable.

"Then there are more like us in New Orleans?"

Non, this vampire, he died," Louis lied.

"How!" Claudia said suspiciously.

"He stayed out to late and died in the sun," Louis said, "He was a very weak rogue."

"Is he in heaven with Paul, with Jamie? This vampire is he?"

"I do not know if there is a heaven," Louis said calmly, "I know after Paul died I had what seemed to be a million dreams about Paul being caught between heaven and the earth. I no longer have such dreams."

"Then you are worse then Lestat and I. If there is no heaven there is no way families will ever see each other again. You leave grievers behind you. You have no idea of the hurt you have caused to others with your random take of victims. At least we take responsibility in uniting parents with their children, wives with their husbands. You are too hard on Lestat and I."

"And you, daughter, you are much too hard on me," Louis said with a grimace.

"Lestat says there is no God. That it's simply a matter of our will to survive over their will to survive," Claudia said insistently staring at Louis' lips, wondering what would happen if she would part her lips for him whenever he presented her again and again with his cool, chaste, affectionate kisses. She looked hastily away from him, blurting out, "Lestat thinks you to be the perfect idiot. You have too much scruples and guilt, so you kill like a mindless zombie with no emotions."

Louis lips tightened, at her words, "Oui, I now what Lestat says and thinks of me. Why repeat these words to me?"

She put her small hands to her lace collar, thinking, Because you hurt me when I was to young to be hurt. Because my mother hurt me by dying when I was too young to lose her. "Paul is dead," she intoned in a flat voice, "There is no heaven. There is no hope for Paul."

"Then Lestat has given us what no other mortals are permitted to enjoy, a true chance of eternal immortality, and eternal hope for something better to come around the corner," Louis said in a colorless voice.

"This isn't immortality, this is only a very long life we live," Claudia said coolly, "Immorality is being divorced from the needs of having to keep oneself alive. You do not know when your life will end and along with it hope. You fool yourself when you call this life we live an immortal life."

"I do in my vanity fool myself," Louis said lightly, seeking to disarm her with a dashing smile, "I'm going to take you shopping."

"You always take me shopping when you are tired of the conversation we are having," Claudia protested, "You always want to distract me when we are becoming too uncomfortably close."

"Not at all," Louis said, standing up from his chair.

"I want to talk more, besides Lestat told us, ha! he ordered us to meet him here."

"Non, I want to leave. Lestat is late anyway. How about if I take you to the circus?"

"The circus! In mortal years I am in my sixties. Why do you do this? Treating me like a child after you've just finished treating me as an equal?" Claudia cried mortified.

"I am an adult, and I want to see the circus," Louis said blandly, wanting to run from her, yearning to lock himself away from the accusations here very presence caused him to feel.

"Then go! Go on your own! I will wait here for Lestat. "

"Non, " Louis said, guiltily quitting his desire to abandon her, "Come with me. Let Lestat fend for himself."

"Sometimes I wonder why you won't allow me to fend for myself? Either of you!" Cladia cried, "Sometimes I wonder do you love me? Or do you have any feelings at all for me? Do you protect me out of a sense of duty? Where would you be right now if you had a choice Louis?"

"Here with you," Louis said , cupping her face, taking her gloved hand, "You talk such foolishness," he gently chided her, "Of course I want to be with you."

He saw Lestat coming into the cafe. A surge of lust and disdain washed over Louis at the appearance of his companion.

"Ah, Louis, Claudia, Princess and Prince Charming," Lestat teased, "Both of you right out of a story book." He put his arm around Louis' waist.

Stiffening, Louis pulled himself away, remembering the last time he allowed himself to fall prey to his weakness, when he last melted against Lestat for just a kiss. Afterwards, Lestat did not talk to him for a month. Louis picked up Claudia.

"I have tickets to the theatre," Lestat said, his face burning with embarrassment from Louis' well merited distrust of him.

"We've been to the theatre how many times? We're going to the circus tonight," Louis said briskly, heading for the door.

"How mundane of you. Dancing bears, and monkeys in trousers. Surely, Claudia that cannot impress you," Lestat said coldly, "here give me the child."

"I decided I want to go to the circus," Claudia said wickedly, hoping for them to start arguing with one another. At least when they argued they talked to each other.

"Is it what you want to do, Cherie?" Lestat said, caressing Claudia's hair. His fingers strayed to Louis' cheek bone, tracing down to his chin, up to his lips.

Slowly, Lestat's eyes raised from Claudia's to Louis' face. Louis' eyes were half closed. He shuddered at the mere touch of Lestat's fingers. Louis' face started to color, his lips rounded to kiss and bite at the hand playing with his mouth. Sighing, Louis resolutely turned away, refusing to collapse to Lestat's will.

Ah, papa Louis, Claudia thought seeing the crestfallen look on Lestat's face assemble itself from a look of sadness to an expression of pure, spiteful contempt. Lestat's jeering laughter scourged Louis' slender shoulder, causing then to sag. Louis walked away from him. Lestat followed them out the door,

You are Papa Louis, she thought, twirling her babyish fingers throughout his hair, Way too harsh with us.

(3)

Claudia held fast to Lestat's hand as they strolled inside of the warehouse where the circus was being performed.

They sat in the first row, Claudia between them. Lestat and Louis carefully sized each other up, daring the other to make any kind of conversation. Sighing, Louis abruptly broke the childish game of trying to stare Lestat down.

I've lost that protective feeling I once felt sitting between you both, she thought sadly. Everyone here thinks I am a little girl with my father and his friend, or perhaps another relative. They wonder where my mother is. They probably wonder if she is . . . gone. I'm not a little girl. I wonder what I am? Am I gone from being anything at all now? She drew up her knees to her chest. Lestat lightly slapped her knees, telling her to sit as a lady should.

Straightening out her legs under her bell like shirt, she bitterly watched the little man in the gaudy top hat prancing around ring.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," cried the midget, "Tonight we have elephants. Oui, I best watch out," the little man yelled his face was painted a lustrous white. "One false step, and one may step on me!" He ran about yelling, pretending to be frightened of the great beasts with their fantastical long noses.

"Why can't that mortal grow up?" Claudia whispered, "Who did that to him?"

"No one did anything to him," Lestat said testily, "He was born that way."

"He's a freak isn't he? That's why everyone is laughing at him. Right?" Claudia said leaning forward, "Will other vampires laugh at me if they see me? If they catch me shall I be put on their circus stages?"

"Non, mortals are laughing at him because he is amusing, and in his lowly fashion he is a witty man," Lestat said his patience with her starting to dry up.

The little man leapt into the air doing a somersault landing on his feet.

Is that me then? Amusing, funny, born into darkness as unnatural as he was born into the world?"

"Claudia," Lestat said almost angrily "You are our beautiful little girl. Must we launch into yet another one of your petty arguments? Don't we pay you enough attention?"

"Non, I guess not. Why should we fight?" Claudia said, watching a blush form on Louis' face.

Hearing the sound of cloth being invaded, Claudia turned here head.

What is he doing? she thought of the handsome boy of fifteen with is mop of unruly copper red hair, freckles, and a thick lipped, charming smile. She thought him at first to be dressed as a gentleman's son. On closer inspection, she noticed the clothes he had on through fine, were used and obviously not originally his own.

Winking at her, he put his finger to his lips, warning her not to make a sound. Very carefully, he slid his hands into a gent's back pocket, pulling out a wallet. Coolly, the boy sat down, watching the elephants along with the rest of the audience.

With the self assured air of a prince, he suddenly got up, walking down the aisle, taking the stairs down, leaving the warehouse.

"Claudia, are you enjoying the show? Claudia?" Louis asked, "Claudia where are you?"

Nothing but empty space was now between Lestat and Louis.

"She was just right here," Lestat cried standing up, looking around for her in the crowd, "Devil take her, where did she run off to?"

"It's not like her to leave without one of us gong along," Louis said worriedly. "She's been so resentful of late."

"Our daughter seems to take a perverse liking to testing her limitations with us," Lestat said, "This is your fault that she is upset. We shouldn't have brought her here."

"Non, this is your fault. You should."

"I should have what? Let you kill her a long time ago?" Lestat taunted him, "You would love to be free of us both, wouldn't you?"

"She isn't happy. Seeing her as she is sometimes, I think I should have killed her," Louis said softly, "It's too late for that now. You should have let me kill her."

"She'll get over this," Lestat insisted, "It's a stage she is going through. She isn't mortal Louis. She 'll realize in time she isn't missing out on anything by being a vampire."

"Hush," Louis pleaded, looking around nervously at the crowd of mortals surrounding them.

"Hush yourself," Lestat mocked.

Listen to me," Louis said grabbing his arm, "Things have changed for her."

"Non, you listen to me. This subject is closed," Lestat said, shaking his arm from his grip, "We have to find her."

Running after the boy, Claudia stopped when he stopped.

They studied each other. The boy dashed his arm out forward. Gasping, Claudia squealed in delight. Out from his sleeve, feathered flowers sprang. "Flowers for a little girl," he said with a bow. "I'll give you these flowers if you leave me alone."

"I'm not a little girl. I'm," struggling with what to say, she thought, What am I? How do I introduce myself? For years I have been dead, dead Claudia who has forgotten her real name. I have no crypt where my name is carved to read my name to find out who I am. I am nothing but thirst and hunger, feeding of off boys like you to keep my corpse animated. With a rush of words, she surprised herself by blurting out, "I'm not a child. I'm a person. I'm like you are."

"What do you mean you're like I am?" the boy said, amused, "I've been around little people all my life. My sister is one. She's eighteen. She has breasts and everything a woman has. What do you
mean you are like me?"

"I'm a," she stammered.

"Cat ate up all of your tongue?'" he said amused.

"I'm like you," she said going forward her hands nervously clutched, "I'm an adult like you."

"Hey, I'm no adult, through, thanks for the compliment."

"I'm fourteen, I stopped growing at six. I don't know why, I think my parents knew I wouldn't grow up before they had me, I hate them sometimes. I want to love them as I once did. But, I don't understand why they had me if they knew I wasn't going to grow up."

"You shouldn't hate them for that," he said sympathetically, "I could have been born like my sister."

"What's your name?" Claudia asked, looking up at the tall boy, "Why do you steal? You're supposed to be good. Why aren't you good? Are you poor?"

"Of course I'm not poor. The name is Jean. My father is the ringmaster himself. Do not get us wrong. We are born from a long line of aristocrats. Believe me or not, I could cares less if you do
believe me." Jean said airily, "Are you always good?"

"Oui, non," Claudia said said beaming, "I never had to worry about being good"

"You're pretty ," he said critically.

"I am?" she said a little surprised, "I mean I always have been told I'm pretty, but well how am I pretty?"

"You have nice enough eyes, and tolerable hair."

"Tolerable hair?" she said delighted.

"I can help you steal. If you want me to," she said softly.

"Why should you want too? A rich, nice girl like you?" he said curious "How do you know I won't turn around and steal from you?"

"Because I'll give you what ever you want from me even before you ask me for it. Whatever you want of mine is yours. Besides, it looks like what you do is amusing," she said sweetly.

"I guess. Why not? I can use an accomplice," he said cockily, "Wanna break into the governor's mansion with me? I'll put you through a window, and you pick off the first valuable thing you see.
Understand, I'm not taking candy here."

"I think I understand what you mean by valuables," she said, running to take his hand.

"Claudia, what are you up too?" said an amused voice out of the shadows.

Go away Lestat, Claudia thought, tuning around she said as nicely as she could, "I'm just playing father."

"Of course you are, and what a nice little playmate we have here," Lestat said expectantly, "let me watch how the two of you play."

''Embarrassed, Jean took a step backwards "It was nice meeting you both."

"You've out done yourself, this time Claudia. He's delightful, very comely to look upon. Come now. We haven't all night. Take him," Lestat said impatiently.

"Shut up father. Stop interfering with me!" Claudia hissed. "Jean, can we meet again here tomorrow night, " she begged, " I would like to talk to you some more."


"I don't know if that's possible," Jean said nervously.

"Please do,' Lestat urged, possessively taking Claudia's hand. He smiled winningly at the boy, "My name is de Lion Court.. How would you both like it if I took the two of you out for chocolates at the candy shoppe tomorrow night?"

"I probably should be going home," Jean said, "Here don't forget your flowers."

"People say my name is Claudia. Call me Claudia."

"Claudia, Lestat," Louis cried, "I've been looking all over for the both of you."

"Looks like I've already found her. You're late for our little dinner party," Lestat heartlessly teased.

Noticing the boy amongst them, Louis hurriedly went to Claudia.

I hate that miserable look on your face! Claudia thought angrily of Louis, And that smirking look on your face Lestat, I swear it could drive me insane with rage. I am not going to kill Jean!

"Jean meet me here tomorrow," she pleaded, glaring at Louis and Lestat.

"Sure, oui," he said absently, running away.

What a droll, little rag muffin," Lestat said in a low voice, "Splendid, he trusts you, and tomorrow, and tomorrow soon there will be no tomorrows left for our dear Jean."

I have no idea what you are talking about," Claduia said shortly, wrenching her hand out of his.

"Haven't you Claudia?' Lestat said amused, "Come along the both of you before the rooster crows. I swear neither of you would last another night without me taking care of you. both."

(4)

Taking off with speed no morals yet could but dream of, they ventured through the alleys.

"There Claudia there," Lestat whispered abruptly, stopping her, Louis slowed his pace, he crouched low.

"Are you going to watch me then father?" Claudia cried to Louis. She eyed a drunken man, so foolish to be stumbling alone. Such an unlucky man.

"Non, my darling. I will meet you at our coffin, good bye to the two of you," Louis said softly. He then disappeared.

"Have at the man, and be quick about it," Lestat urged.

Lestat sat back on his haunches, expecting his daughter to make the mewling sounds of a child in need. A child lost to her dear ones. To his surprise she did not perform her expected role. Claudia went right up to the old man. Lestat bit down his distress, and then his fury at the wantonness on Claudia's face.

"I'm here for you," she whispered to the man, licking his face.

"And what star my little angel did you take you fall from?" the drunk whispered, nervously scratching his crotch.

"The star with your name on it," she thrilled, picking up his bottle of whisky, she tipped it upside down, pretending to swallow. "You can touch me for whatever its worth to you," she said.

"You're but a child," them man whimpered, "A child."

"Born for the sport I am proposing. Kneel to me. And shall we kiss?"

The man stumbled to his knees, his rank breath making her face hot. He was amazed at her. Her eyes were enormous. In the darkness her eyes had no color at all, but he could feel they had to be a piercing blue. Her face had a bewitching moon child's paleness about it,. She gloated at the bulge, the erection becoming hard in his stained pants.

Rubbing her face on his rough bristles, she whispered, "Kiss," against his moist neck, she whispered, "Die," against his lips.

Puncturing his throat with her fangs, his heart pumped blood into her rapacious mouth. She clutched on his shirt, holding fast and tight on to him. He stood up, trying to push her away. Circling her small legs around him, she held him even tighter, till coughing up blood against his chest, she then dropped to her feet. The last savior of his death too deadly of a rich taste for her small self.

Lestat took her hand, "Quite a trick you played on him, child."

"I learned it watching you take the whore you took last night. How she held you. How you pretended to allow her to seduce you father. Quite a trick you played on her," Claudia said proudly, tilting her head.

"She was a woman, child, I will not have you trying to mimic a woman to get your victims. Do you understand me? Stick to what you truly are."

"But father the power I had over him. I aroused him."

"He was aroused by child, not a woman," Lestat said harshly.

He picked her up in his arms. She rested her head on the expensive material of his shirt thinking, "Non, he knew, he died knowing the woman inside of this body of a doll."

Once they entered into Rue Royal, Claudia slid out of her father's arms, running for Louis' and her room.

"Did you have a pleasant evening?" Louis said, sitting in his arm chair, smiling at her.

"Oui, papa, I did," she said, picking up her music box she tuned the key. Dancing around the room, she held her arms up aloft.

"Why are you so happy?" Louis humbly asked.

"Why is a state of happiness such a mystery to you?" Claudia laughed, "I simply am happy."

Lestat entered the room. He shut the top of the music box, ending the music, "you bought yourself a child's coffin. Sleep in it tonight, Cherie."

"Non, I will not, I comfort papa when I with him. You know of papa's fear of dark, closed in places," she said, admitting to herself she had a fear of dark places too and Louis was a greater comfort to her than she was to him, but Lestat need not know everything.

Louis raised an eye brow, looking up at Lestat, wondering what Lestat was up too.

"Have it your way, Claudia," Lestat said coldly, "Louis tomorrow, you and I alone will be going to the Blue Ribbon Ball."

"Alone, but Clauida," Louis said startled, "She loves the ball."

"Claudia can remain here at home," Lestat insisted.

"I'd rather go about on my own devices," Claudia said thrilled, "Please papa, I'll be fine."

"I guess it settled then," Louis said, this time not choosing to shy away from the hand Lestat put on his shoulder. Louis smiled up at Lestat, his smile growing a little more deeper, more meaningful. He then turned his head away, remembering all the accusations he made against Lestat, some not true, some all too painfully true. Lestat caressed Louis' shoulder, tying to reassure Louis. Bending his head down to meet Louis' they both exchanged a cautious chaste kiss.

"What did you think of those elephants cherie?" Lestat said gently to her. The whole room seemed to glow with a sweet kind of comfort for them all.

"They were as fat as that lady you took the night before," Claudia said sticking her dainty pink tongue at him.

"And their noses were as big as that old priest's you took at Saint Louis' cathedral," Lestat laughed, "Cherie, you're pretty tonight," he swiftly threw her a kiss which she pretended to catch.

Carrying her to their coffin, Louis laid down with her on his chest. Carefully, he closed the lid, "Father," she whispered, "Tell me what will it be like when I fall in love with someone?"

"It will be like you fell in a well of confusion," Claudia, Louis whispered in the dark.

A well of confusion, Claudia thought, Ah, father, again you give me as little information about life as Lestat does.

She laid quietly playing with the ruffles of his shirt, and the brocade of his great coat, thinking before her eyes closed from
death's quest and extinguish of her wakefulness. What would it be like to fall in love with Jean? Would he treat me kindly with respect and tenderness? Would he make me cry? Would he hit me? Often times, I have sit hidden in mortal homes, watching the going ons between husband and wives. How sometimes it seemed they didn't even notice each other. Sometimes, mortal couple fight as if they hated each other. Sometimes they are very nice to each other, those kind of
couples are the most fun to watch. Then sometimes they hold each other, and thrust at each other like two dogs out in the street. My own parents. I know of mortal men who make love, at least I suppose it to be love. They lick and suck at each other's privates. And sometimes one mounts the other. She tried to picture it. Lestat? Louis? Non, never, not then, not ever. They do not love each other as lovers. Did they ever? she wondered, Before I was born?

It as so nice for a moment there, when we were a little bit happy of a happy family. Is it my fault those moments do not seem to last as long as we all wish for, she thought, wiping her face.

(5)

Her eyes opened to a press of darkness. Darkness disturbed by a very faint light. The only thing which shone in the coffin was the pale light emanating from herself and her father. A light only fit for vampire eyes to witness.

I wonder what he's doing right now? Claudia thought dreamily on Louis' chest, Will Jean be there waiting for me? What will we find to talk about?

Starting to hum a nonsensical tune to herself, she thought, What if he wants to kiss me? What will it be like? Will I like it? Do I want him to kiss me? Should I kiss him first? He's a mortal. He nothing but a mortal. Why should I care about such matters?

Fumbling at Louis clothing she reached down timidly touching his slumbering member between his legs. She pulled her hand away quickly; she was more afraid of what she was doing than she was curious.

Puckering her lips, she experimented on the palm of her hand. Glancing up at her father's handsome face, she saw his lips were parted. She found the temptation to be too great. Thinking of Jean's face how it looked under the gas light, pale, almost greenish, she slid her head along the lid of the coffin causing it to open a little, creeping slowly up to her father's lips, she firmly kissed him as passionately as she thought a mortal woman would kiss a lover.

The coffin lid flew open. Stifling her screams with his hand, Lestat grabbed her arm, dragging her out.

"Stop, stop," Claudia tried to scream as he carried her away into his bedroom.

Screaming hysterically underneath his hand, she struggled in vain. Desperately she tried to bite him She couldn't believe or understand why he was so angry with her.

His long nails ripped opened the bodice of silk covering her chest, exposing her small, flat nipples. Angrily, the clothing was brutally torn away with a hiss till nothing was left of the taffeta, the silk, ribbons, and bows, but rags upon the oriental rug.

"Look at yourself," Lestat sad softly, pushing her away from him. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

Ashamed, holding back tears at the edge of her eyes, she saw in the full length mirror a naked, trembling child hiding her nonexistent breasts under one arm, one hand pressed flat against her childish sex.

"Who can love you as you are in this guise? No one, no one who is normal," Lestat said sadly, "Listen to me Claudia, if you want to be loved your mind mustn't age in this doll's shell of yours. Be our little girl, otherwise."

"Otherwise what?" Claudia said bemused, letting her arms fall to her sides so she was fully revealed. "Otherwise, I'm nothing to you? Didn't you create me?" she said slowly circling him, "Did you create me out of love? Or was it to spite the one you couldn't hold on to without me? You needed me didn't you to keep Louis captive in your house, didn't you?"

He watched her with chilled fascination as she spin around like a child playing at being a top, her hairless sex, her baby fat,
unnatural in it's porcelain perfection, she was a living sculpture of a child, beautiful oui, not as a woman, but as a sacred innocent to love, not to desire nor to passionately hold.

"Father, who am I to love if not you, or papa? Haven't the both of you molded me, prodded me, shaped me to be your perfect companion at the kill and in life? Now father, why not love. me too?"

"Claudia, I love you," Lestat said weakly, picking up her torn rags, tossing them in the fire. Shakily, going to his wardrobe closet, he pulled out one of his white shirts, "Stand still," he ordered dressing her with it. The shirt hung over her shoulders, trailing on the floor.

"Father," she whispered, clasping his face with her hands, "Look at me all in white. Am I not meant to be your bride. A virgin? I'm not. Why do you think I kissed my Louis? My Louis. He has been my lover for years"

"You lie, Claudia," Lestat said in a low hushed voice, smoothing out her hair, "You can not be telling the truth. You have no idea what you are speaking of."

"This is not enough for me," she whispered, her face held the passion of demons, "I need more than this existence. There is no surprises, no challenges. . Your dolls that you insist on giving me are hollow. I am not. I am full of feelings, and I feel this isn't enough for me your brand of so called love. I hate you for creating me to be a deformity. I would have preferred death with my mother. Being entombed alive in this thirsty coffin of a body you buried me alive in is more hateful to me than death!"

Laughing at the horror on Lestat's face, impishly Claudia seductively smiled at him, letting the shirt fall of her tender, small shoulder. "Father, Louis has taught me things." she said in a low purr of a voice, goaded by the fear in his eyes, "Teach me more, of you dare. Is it possible you can finally teach me something of value about myself?"

"Louis!" Lestat roared, causing Claudia to shut her ears.

Hurrying out of the room, slamming the door on Claudia, Lestat few into Louis' bedroom.

"Lestat," Louis said, one leg out of his coffin, "You know I do not allow you into my room. Where is Claudia?"

"Where indeed," Lestat yelled, raising his hand, slapping Louis straight in the face, cracking his cheek bone.

Vaulting out of his coffin, Louis barely dodged another shattering blow to his face. Kicking his boot into Lestat's groin, he cursed him, "Damn you, what have I done?"

Doubling over, coughing in pain, Lestat then bounced up, slamming his fist under Louis' jaw, sending him to be sprawled out on the bed. "What do you do to her when you're alone together?" Lestat cried in a tight voice, near to weeping.

"Do to her?' Louis cried out amazed.

"Are you lovers? Or are you not? Tell me the truth, else I'll beat it out of you, you bastard."

"We are lovers," Louis said slowly, defeated, "I love her as a teacher, a guide. What I feel for her is platonic I kiss her.
That's all I do to her."

"And me. You kiss me too, oui, am I your platonic lover then?" Lestat said quietly, putting his hand to the burning heat of Louis' bruised face. "Once and for all what do you feel for me? Do you have any feelings at all?"

Lestat," Louis said, pulling away, "Leave what I feel for you be."

"Do you have any feelings for me at all?" Lestat insisted miserably. Pinning Louis to the bed, parting his legs with his knee, he forced Louis to look at him.

Louis gasped at the bite of Lestat's fangs at his lips. Soulfully, Louis licked at the blood drawn between them.

"Claudia," Louis whispered, pushing at Lestat's chest, "What were you accusing me of doing with Claudia?"

Lestat shivered as if he was trapped in a fever. He remembered long ago how as a child he used to sleep with his father for comfort from bad dreams he would have of falling till one night His father always welcomed him to his bed, holding him close. Lestat knew his father was as lonely as he was. Sometimes they would talk before they slept. Lestat almost screamed out loud from the memory of it, the pain, the fingers fumbling at him, and the brutal force, the feeling
afterwards of having someone being stolen from him, his father, his father was stolen from him, and now he faced a stranger ever after that night. An ashamed stranger who could not look him in the eye. Lestat's place in the bed after that one night was filled with a series of young maids from the kitchen. Girls he knew his mother felt nothing but contempt for. And he had no place to go after his nightmares. After that he lived alone in a house full of so-called family. Nothing was left to him, not even the lover his father became to him the night he betrayed his trust. .He thought of Claudia being
in Louis' arms. It will happen, he thought, The two of them are drawn together, out of sheer loneliness someday the two of them will soon be lovers. I can sense it, And I will be alone in my family once again. Claudia is right, who else but Louis for her? How else can I atone to them both, for putting her on the Devil's Road, but by letting their affair progress. Louis is not my father, he'll be kind to her, and he'll love her. How will she feel if you and I leave this room as lovers at last? She would feel abandoned. So be it.

In a voice he forced to sound calm, he said, "Claudia said you love her. And so you do, is it not true cher? Love her, please do, I made her for you, Didn't I?"

"I do love Claudia," Louis said, "How can you ask me to love her when I already do? You're not making any sense Lestat."

Pulling himself off of Louis, Lestat said quietly, "I can't live like this with the two of you any longer."

"What do you mean Lestat? You can't leave us."

"Non, why would I be so heartless, I need a lover of my own. And I decided a long time ago it mustn't be you," Lestat said as kindly as he could.

"But, why?"

"You ask why? As cold as we've been to each other. You ask me why? I saved your life. When I first tried to embrace you, you pulled away from me. I'm a coward Louis. I made too many mistakes after that initial rejection. Claudia will always need someone to love her. I did not create her to be lonely and abandoned. I will not come between the two of you. I need more than two fledglings reluctant to love me. I need a lover who is in love with me, not someone who just
loves me. So does Claudia, and so do you. I will never be in love with you Louis. I will always be fond of you," Lestat said, thinking, I do love you cher, now and forever. But it has to be over, it has to be! Not that it ever truly began.

Louis looked at him stunned, "I always will be fond of you too. I understand."

Non," Lestat thought, You'll never understand.

"Perhaps, Louis for her sake you should stop thinking of her as your daughter," Lestat said in a low voice. "If she's in love with you and I know she is, perhaps for both your sakes you should be in love with her."

Leaving the room, he found Claudia fearfully waiting for him. Her small legs pacing the hall, "Father, I, please. I was angry,
understand Louis did nothing wrong. I swear it. I swear it."

Falling to his his knees, Lestat embraced her, trying to hug her anxieties away, "How could you think I would ever dream of hurting Louis? Cherie, you are growing up. And as much as I wish it were not true, I can't stop you. Look at me. He's yours cherie. Yours to love. Make him love you if you can. I wish the both of you well."

Swooping down, he kissed her forehead. He left out the door.

What do you mean he's mine? I already know that he mine. Do you mean?, she wondered to herself. Excited, she dashed to her bedroom quickly dressing herself, putting on her hooded cloak. Louis was trying to read a book. A look of dull misery on his face.

"Father," she said pulling her hood over her face, "I'm going out."

"Do you want me to come along? It looks like my date with Lestat to go to the ball has been canceled," Louis said, trying to appear cheerful just for her sake, putting the book down. He thought of what Lestat had implied to him, I cannot be her lover, she is my daughter. How can he be so cruel to suggest such an ugly thing to me? I will never have a lover, never. I failed in my responsibility to take care of Paul, I will not fail Claudia.. None of this is her fault. All of it, her kills, I would demand God to blame me for, and not her. She's the only thing I will live for.

You'd sacrifice yourself for me wouldn't you? Your very self, Claudia thought. Touched, going to him, she hugged his knees, "Non, mon pere, Tonight I wish to be alone."

She fairly flew out of Rue Royal, her heels clattering on the cobblestone. Exotic banana trees leaves shifted and swayed in the soft, humid breeze, the leaves of cotton wood trees shook at her nervous laughter. Flowers grew profusely in the gardens of mortals. Fearlessly, she pounced on a man, leaving him dry in a place where wild roses and runners of jasmine grew. A lonely place where mortals did not plant. She slowed down her run to a human stroll. There in the alley, as if after she left him there just a moment ago was Jean waiting for her for forever if he had to. His copper red hair glowing over his freckles.

"I thought you'd never show up," he cried, "Are you ready then for a bit of fun?"

"I've been ready and waiting far too long for fun," she whispered to soft for him to hear. Embarrassed, she blurted out, "Ready for what?"

"To got to church with me,' the young scoundrel teased, tossing a bag at her.

"To church?" she said blankly, "I've never been inside a church."

"Never been?" he mocked her, "My, I'm in the company of a bad little demon." Scooping down to be eye to eye to her, he said softly, "We are going to go to Saint Louis'. There are gold bells with which altar boys ring during the consecration of the host. From what one of the boys have told me, Father Racine keeps them hidden in a box in his office."

"What do you need with such bells?" Claudia said, "Look here." She spilled out coins from her pocket, "I stole these for you," she said, telling the truth, for that was the reason why even more than hunger, she had just recently finished killing a man for his pretty coins rather than for his blood.

"Pick pocket did you?" Jean whistled.

"Oui," she said, her heart beating deliciously fast.

"Ah, they hang little girls for such a dire crime. Even the pretty ones."

"I'm not a little girl," she cried tensely, "haven't I impressed that upon you yet?'

Laughing, Jean, patted her curls, "You took them from one of the gents you live with. I warrant Neither one of them are your father. Through the blond one resembles you a bit. I know his type. His type goes to the child brothels. What did he keep urging you to do with me? Is he the type who likes to watch? Does he use you Claudia? Is he, well, is he a pervert? Claudia are you in trouble?" he said now serious, "Do you need help? You can stay with me and my parents. We've been know to take in a stray or two."

(6)

"Non, I'm not in trouble, they are my fathers, they adopted me. As a doll for them to play with I suppose. As the family history goes my father Louis was going to leave my father Lestat. Lestat adopted me and Louis, he became enchanted with me. They both became enchanted with me, through they can barely stand each other it sometimes seems. If Lestat does go to a children's brothel he would only go there for a light snack."

"Is that what he calls what he does? How disgusting," Jean cried.

"It was merely a joke, Jean. Neither one of them hurts me, or touches me. They've become afraid of me because I am a grown up, yet I can't grow," Claudia lifted her arm over her head, "I can't grow up."

"Good let them be afraid of you if they can't accept you for what you are." Jean said furiously, "Put your coins away Claudia. You haven't impressed me by far, not yet."

"But we are partners, take half the coins, "Claudia pleaded. The hard metal pressed into her hand. Never had money had such meaning to her.

"It's the adventure of it all girl. And we shall have our adventure!"

Chasing after him to Saint Louis' cathedral, Claudia stopped. She gawked up at the huge steeple of the crix-a-form church. The enormous wooden doors of the cathedral seemed ready to bite her if she dared touch them with her profane, little, undead hands.

"What's the matter? Are you afraid then?" Jean whispered.

"Non," Claudia whispered back, climbing up the stairs. She paused at the doors, thinking, My fathers spared me a religious education, but still I know enough about saints. Don't my victims often call on the Saint Jesus, Mary, or Sebastian to save them before they die? All I know of Christ is he was someone who looked strangely pretty on lovely
rosaries, and he died to forgive people for being bad. It seems to me a strange way of going about giving mortals redemption by hanging on a cross for bad people. Why not just kill the evil doers, and make everyone in the world behave themselves or else? Maybe killing evil doers is the role a vampire plays for Christ, if there was a
Christ. Through I kind of doubt it. Otherwise, He wouldn't have made innocent people taste so good! I can remember my mother believed in Christ, most dying people do. I can hear her sometimes asking me to forgive her.

Claudia nervously took a step back.

"Saint Michael the slayer of devil will fall at you, and tear you to ribbons with his sword. Wait I see him. He's waiting for you up in the rafters. There he is looking through the stained glass window right at you Run before I open the door!" Jean teased.

"I shall spit in the eye of any angel who dares to try to menace me," Claudia cried, entering.

The solemn glitter and gold of the altar hurt her vampire eyes. The statures, plaster, all gorgeous, smooth, were too intimidating to touch.

A Saint Joseph stood on a pedestal, a stature of a young boy cling to his robes. She supposed it to be a boy through his face was too beautiful and gentle to be either mortal gender. Saint Joseph held a lily in his arms. The symbol for his spiritual wife his lover, the virgin. Through his eyes were flat and lifeless some how how she felt more kin to him than the fleshy mortal boy who was staring at her impatiently.

Saint Joseph's eyes seemed kind at first, then she felt as if the stature was impossibly mocking her.

"Ouch, let go of my hand do you want to break it? How can you be so strong? Jean whispered into her ear, "I'm going to go to confession, the old ladies in here watch everything. I need to create a diversion. When I do, you run to the door, and up the stairs. Understand?"

"Oui," Claudia whispered taking a seat at one of the long pews. Confused at what to do, she took her cue from a group of old ladies who were indeed piercing her with disapproving glances. The women were moving their beads one by one, muttering the rosary.

Clasping her hands, she muttered the words along with them, watching beneath her long lashes as Jean went inside the box.

"Bless me father for I have sinned," Jean said, breathlessly into a small square grilled opening.

"When was your last confession my son?"

"Christmas, Father. I have been having sinful thoughts about girls."

"Have you acted upon those thoughts?" Father Rene whispered, "I find it son, healthy to immerse myself in prayer, hard work, and charity. A girl is not something to take advantage of with your mind or your eyes,. A girl should be loved as someone who could be you future wife, the mother of your future children."

"Father, my stomach hurts, I think I'm going to be sick."

Jamming his fingers into his throat, Jean's stomach up heaved. Vomit choked out of his mouth, throwing open the door, he jerked his head at Claudia, his knees collapsed his body crumbled into a faint.

Flinging open the door of the confessional, Father Rene grabbed Jean's wrist, taking his pulse.

"Quickly, he cried to the old women, "Get me some water so I can reprieve him."

"Holy Water!" the scandalized old woman cried in her black shawl.

"Any water. This is an emergency," Father yelled.

Running to the holy water front, the old woman hurried to the boy, tossing the contents in his face, her older sisters following her.

Jean was surrounded by humans all in black, all clucking over him, patting his face, rubbing at his wrists.

Claudia swallowed the hard temptation to laugh out loud, and to run to him, pat his cheeks, and add her voice to the uproar.

Getting down, and crawling on all fours to the door, she soundlessly opened it. Hurrying up the stairs, she found a room filled with religious texts and crucifixes. Discovering a wooden box decorated with a crowned lamb, she tore it open. She held her breath at the radiant gleam of the string of small bells on a chain of equally valuable gold. Money was also in the box. Happily, she threw everything in the bag. She heard something at the window.

Opening the window, she could see Jean down below.

"Toss me the bag," he cried in a low voice.

"Non, I'm frightened," she lied, "Come up here and save me. There is a rat in this room."

"Do you have the bells?"

"Non, I tell you there is a rat in this room, I'm afraid," she cried, going away from the window, she dropped the bag filled with the bells and money to the floor. She scurried round, finding a real rat hiding from her underneath a table cloth. Dashing at the stunned mammal, she picked it up by it's skinny tail dangling it front of her eyes, swinging it like a hairy pendulum. Driving her fangs in its hairy fur, she drained him, till he was dry and empty. Brutally, she tossed the dead animal over her shoulder. Pretending to cry, she could hear Jean talking to the priest down stairs about his missing sister.

"Jean, Jean," she sobbed, barreling down the stairs, holding on the bag filled with treasures, "I was chasing a cat! There's a rat up there!"

"We have to be going , sis," Jean growled, "Mother and father are going to be worried about us."

"Oui, let's leave," Claduda said,

"Do not be frightened of the rat upstairs," Father said kindly, "I made him into a pet for myself. My dear cat, Celeste, she was afraid of him till she decided to accept him. She's more of a mouser that a rat catcher. Are you feeling better son?"

"Ouis, father, merci, come along sister," he ordered, taking her hand.

"Wait I haven't given you your penance. Three Hail a Mary's, and two Our Fathers," the priest said, and you're forgiven my son."

"Thank you Father," Jean said cheerfully.

Once outside they ran down the street, dodging carriages and people on fine horses. Finally at an alley, they stopped, leaning against a wall, Jean huffed and puffed.

"Damn you, damn you," he whispered laughing, "What trick were you playing? Did you think I would desert you up there? Take the gold, and run? I pray God you left the gold up there."

"You came for me and not the gold? Why? Didn't you want the gold!"

"Who is he going to suspect now if not us? You were the last one up there. He saw you carrying the bag!"

"He'll suspect the old women, the altar boys! Who cares, this is ours," she squealed, pulling out the bells to shine under the gas light of the hanging lamp overhead.

"Put it back," he whispered, "Come on we must go to the circus."

They traveled through the night, laughing and playing, making fun of some poor whores who made fun of them first. The whores ended up chasing them. Turning on the ladies they tossed rocks at them, sending them cursing, screaming away.

Once they made it to the circus, they entered into one of the smaller tents, "This is for you," Jean said to a man who was but a half man, his arms were flippers, his whiskers stiff and sharp from starch being added to them to make him even more look like a human walrus. His shiny scalp gleamed along with the candles.

Marie," he called to his wife.

"Oui, Galen?" A slender, not attractive, but normal woman came into the tent. Through she was plain, had a long nose, and her teeth were crooked, her eyes were arrestingly expressive. Bangles, feathers, and glitter took away her plainness, giving her appearance a wonderful bravado. "Ah the gold you promised us. We shall melt it down tonight and turn it into nuggets. Fantastic dear Jean."

"My parents?" Jean said nervously.

"Performing. Do not be afraid of they're finding out. Our lips are sealed are they not out of necessity? Would your parents not throw us out for our chancery?" Marie said, hugging handsome Jean like she was his sister.

A man emancipated, his head on a tower of bones, his eyes lively in his skull face, took the bells. Putting them in a smelter pot, he added more coals to the flames.

Smoke filled the small tent. A baby started to whine.

"I must remove Jacques before he chokes," Marie said cheerfully, picking up the healthy, infant, stopping to kiss her husband's bald pate, she threw Claudia a envious glance for the beauty of her clothes, wishing she could dress her own six year old daughter, Catherine, just as pretty.

"Who is your little friend?" the man said with flippers, eyeing Claudia cautiously. He slid down out of his chair, landing with clumsy thud. With his rudimentary legs, he waddled up to her, holding out his deformed hand for her to shake.

"She a friend," Jean said carelessly, "A very dear one who deserves a treat. Let's break into the opera buffino."

"That is too risqué for children," the bald man scolded.

"Not for us," Claudia said, surprised to find that she liked the man despite his ugliness. With a burst of generosity she cried, "Here, there is money too." Claudia thrilled at the pleased look on his wrinkled face. She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Feeling embarrassed, she stopped being such a child, and tried to look sophisticated.

"Money too!" Galen said, taking it from the bag, "Indeed Claudia you are our lucky charm."

As they walked out, she said, happily to Jean, "Merci. Never have I enjoyed myself more."

"Sure merci to me now, curse me later when we both end up dancing at the end of a rope," he worried, "You should have trusted me, Claudia and thrown down the bag. No more games between us. Partners understand? And also Claudia I only promised Galen the bells. You should not have told him about the money. We could have kept that to ourselves."

"Do not worry about that small change I gave your friend. Do not trouble yourself with the priest and with us hanging from the gallows," Claudia said, anticipating what a pleasant taste the priest would have to his innocent blood. She wondered if Father Rene was as chaste as he pretended to be, if so, his taste would be magnificent!

"Anything can happen?" Jean said.

"Oui, anything, merci for not trying to carry me, it seems everyone I know carries me around. Merci," Claudia said, taking his hand.

(7)

"I lived long enough with people who insist on doing everything themselves," Jean said smiling, "You haven't any need of my help to keep up with me, Claudia."

"The woman, Marie, how can she?"

"Have a family with a man such as the famous Monsieur Galen, the magnificent half man? He loves her and treats her well. That's the spell he has on her A beautiful magical spell She once was a homeless one thrown out by her family when they could not afford to feed her She became adopted by the circus, and she returned his kindness with her kindness and they married Do you think only beautiful people can cause someone to fall in love with them?"

"So it seems I've been taught" Claudia said "I, I always hated people with deformities. I despised looking at them. It felt too uncomfortably like I was looking at myself. Other freaks made me more aware of what I am. Jean, people, when they look at me they see child. And I pretend to be a child. Why? To fit in. I feel so terribly afraid of people's pity, their scorn, their laughter at me"

"You mean the way you suppose people pity my parents? Oui, Claudia they laugh at the man with flippers doing something as simple as drinking a cup of tea. Monsieur Galen makes a performance out of life. They pity the wretched skeleton man. Marvel at my small parents wanting to touch them to see if they are real. People laugh at them, and pity them, till they take the time out to know them. Then, they see people who are different, like my parents, are just
as human as they are, and have feelings too. Claudia, you mustn't pretend to be a child. You must use the courage I saw tonight at the church. You'll be a better person than those who you fear."

In the darkness he couldn't see the color of the savage red tear which dropped down her cheek. "Fine words Jean, but who would ever love someone like me?" Claudia scoffed.

"Claudia. lay down with me on the slope of the hill."

Laying amongst the clover and grass, they stared up at the buildings around them. New Orleans was still very young and tender, and had oases of trees and grass amongst it's grand buildings and hovels. Slowly through, the town was devouring such oases.

"Claudia," Jean said, "Would you like me to show you at least what a small part of love can be like?"

"What part would that be?" Claudia asked, her arms folded against the satin of her bodice. "The part my fathers have shown me so far is a platonic love. I suppose that's the only kind my fathers think is possible for a creature like me up until now, " Claudia hugged her knees her hair falling gracefully around her shoulders, "My father, Lestat, has given me permission to make my father, Louis, to be my lover."

"You have to be fooling with me now," Jean laughed in disbelief, touching her shoulder.

"I thought about it. I really did. Even fantasized about it. I was attracted to Louis. But, to actually be his lover? Once he was offered to me, I felt non, impossible! He isn't new enough,
different enough. I would feel foolish trying to really seduce him. When I do flirt with him, later I laugh about it. He's the same old silly father. You know I feel sometimes like I heard it all from my parents. Other times I feel like they've told me nothing important. I feel whatever I didn't, or do not want to learn from them I will have to learn from someone else."

"I think I know what you mean. From my parents I have only learned what it is like to live the circus life. I sometimes wonder what other people's lives are like," Jean said.

"Besides, despite it all, I really think they love each other. And so passionately! It's like they are silently screaming at each other. Screaming silently so loudly neither of the other can understand each other, " Claudia laughed bemused "At least that is what I think. They are charming to watch as they shirt around each other. When they are not infuriating me, they make me laugh and laugh at them."

"I suppose my parents infuriate me sometimes. But, neither one wants the other to be my lover," Jean said amazed at her words. "They love each other very much. They love my sister and me too. Claudia how can you stand such strangeness? Your life is the oddity, not your
statue."

"I know, I know," Claudia breathed in the smell of him, all mortal and sweaty more sweet than any flower melting languidly in the humid New Orleans air. It made her dazed to anything but a wild hunger to love him.

"If you are so afraid to die, why then do you steal?"

"Who isn't afraid to die?" Jean said, a lock of his hair falling over his eye. "Don't you like to live your life tensely? Stealing makes me feel." He jumped up, walking away a little, then he spun around, "It makes me feel alive. Clever, important. It makes me feel outstandingly tricky. I like being adventurous," His head tilted back, a silly smile was on his young face, his freckled nose in the air.

You look pompous, and so pretty, I mean so handsome, Claudia thought, loving him all the more for his air of self importance. Thief of hearts steal me my away from my fathers. Claudia thought resolutely, It's true, girls fall in love with boys. And then, they leave their parents behind them for a new life. That is what is normal. What I'm supposed to do.

"I was surprised how much pleasure I got from making Monsieur Galen happy. I too felt clever and accomplished," Claudia said smiling, "Don't be afraid of dying while doing a hangman's dance. You will not die." She was already happily scheming to make it look like Father Rene ran away forever with the bells.

Perhaps, I kill one of the old women in black too, she thought gloriously happy, Then they will think that Father Rene fell madly in love with her, and they ran away together to live happily ever after. All the people in New Orleans will be scandalized with the naughty wickedness of the happy couple. Everyone will think it all to be so terrible and romantic. Perhaps some of them will even wish Father Rene and her well.

"I think sometimes, I just feel like I'll live forever," Jean laughed, flopping back down beside her. "Isn't that how you feel? How can two clever people like ourselves die, Claudia? Impossible."

"Oui, I do feel like it's impossible, " Claudia cried, taking his larger hand. "Why do you like me?" Claudia whispered "What is it about me that you like?"

"You like to ask questions," Jean said.

"I have to ask how else will I learn?" Claudia pressed him.

"We're two peas in a pod you know," Jean said intimately, leaning back on his elbows, looking at her earnestly. "I'm the product, I suppose, of what people would call two monsters. I move around from town to town with only my own company and the circus people. I do not think you have many friends Claudia, nor do I."

"Jean," Claudia whispered her lips at his throat, "You mustn't move away. Neither one of us need be lonely ever again. There is a way for us to be together."

"Claudia," Jean's voice sang over the breeze. Moaning, he felt the sharpness of her kiss penetrating his skin like small daggers. Heat and liquid danced on her tongue. His maleness stood aroused between his adolescent legs trapped by his breeches. Biting harder, the aroma of his dying made her swoon with tears. "Jean," she begged, her wet face pressed against his "Listen to me," she implored him, cutting into her wrists with her sharp nails.

"Drink, Jean," Claudia cried, blood sweat beading on her face. The agony of his sucking mouth pulled at her heart, sending spasms of pains throughout her as painful as any pains any birthing mother would feel.. She gasped, the pain ebbed to a sensual pleasure which made her whole body and mind throb and quicken. Her nerves were dancing with joy in her small shape. She felt herself tense down there between her legs where she never felt such pleasure before. Her whole body felt like one magnificent feeling of tenseness and release. She didn't understand what to call it. She just knew it felt good and right.

"Louis," Lestat whispered coming upon where Louis was hiding, and had been watching Claudia and Jean the whole time. "What is going on? " Lestat asked. "Why are you hiding here?"

Louis turned his eyes from Claudia and Jean, his face held a fear in it which alarmed Lestat to almost becoming frantic. Before Lestat could say something, Louis put his finger to his lips silencing Lestat.

Jean's eyes now bright slivers of moonlight showing in his fledgling's face. Throwing her off, Jean roared. His mouth tore at Claudia's throat. Clawing desperately at his face, Claudia screamed. His nails dug into her arms. Her bones popped out of her sockets.

A wail of pure agony ripped out of his throat his eyes exploded, emptiness was where his trusting eyes once had been. Biting into his bloated, deformed tongue, he cut it off. The bloody appendage fell on top of her face. Blood streamed out left and right from the holes of his pores of his skin. Now without sound he screamed, and screamed. He shivered up into a blackened skeleton.

"Jean, Jean," Claudia shirked.

"How could have you have just stood there spying on them! You should have stopped her. You should have stopped her," Lestat cried. "Why didn't you interfere?"

"Claudia," Louis yelled, ignoring Lestat. Louis threw the dying vampire from off of her.

"He died, he died" Claudia said in shock, "Why didn't it work?"

"His veins must have collapsed. You're too small. You didn't provide his heart with enough blood, he had a stroke. First, he lost his mind. Then his heart died, his brain, everything died,
Claudia," Louis said. holding her tight. "I'm so sorry."

"Why! Why, didn't you tell this would happen? Why father?" Claudia wept, making his shirt bloody with her tears.

"Claudia, I wasn't sure this would happen," Louis pleaded, "This is all my fault. I should have stopped you. Claudia, I didn't know this would happen. I love you. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you help Jean with your blood!" Claudia demanded coldly, slapping Louis' face.

"It was too late. I would have, but it was too late," Louis begged, "It all happened too fast. Claudia, it was your choice to make him your lover. I didn't know if I should be involved. I didn't know if it would be right to make another," Louis said horrified.

"Another blood sucking monster like me, like us!" Claudia cried, tears running down her eyes. "And so you just watched, not wanting to be involved again in such an abnormality, a sin against mortal humanity. Was that what you thought? Are you glad he's dead!"

"Claudia," Lestat said gently, "Do not blame him. Please, neither of us knew for sure what would happen."

"You, Louis, I forgive, once again, and again, because you didn't want me to be the monster I am, did you?" Claudia screamed, "You, Lestat, I will never forgive you! You did this to me! You created me! Is it worth it to see me suffer as I am suffering! I hate you! Why!"

"I created you because I wanted you both," Lestat said sadly.

"Don't lie, Father of Lies. Tell the whole truth. You wanted me because you wanted him. Fine, then let us both, Louis, let us both be punishments to him Let us give him to hell," Claudia said, calmly, staring with pure anger at Lestat.

"Take her home She's delirious. She doesn't know what she is saying," Lestat ordered, loving them, fearing them both, "I will deal with the remains."

"Let me deal with the remains," Claudia cried hotly," He was my lover, my friend, the only kind of a child I can have! I will deal with Jean. No love remains between us, Lestat. Do you hear me father, not a drop remains between us!"

"Take her home, Damn you, Louis, take her home," Lestat cried on the verge of tears.

"Lestat, please, I" Louis said wanting to stay and hold him also. Stroking Claudia's hair, patting her as comfortingly as he could, Louis thought, I know where my responsibility must always lie. And it will always lie with our child.

Wiping her tears with his handkerchief, Louis took her away, leaving Lestat alone to his misery.

Once they were out of sight, Lestat's chest shook with helpless sobs. "You're still alive," he whispered, putting his hand to Jean's wounded face, "I didn't have the heart to tell them the horrible truth. You're still very much alive. My blood, no one's blood, is strong enough to bring back your sanity." Lestat started to dig a shallow grave.

"Poor child, this is no way for any of our kind to die," he whispered to the victim. Only Lestat's powerful hearing could hear the insane cries of agony in the Jean's body as he tenderly put him into the earth. Fearfully, with his rapier he cut off the living skull, praying that if the beheading did hurt, the boy's brains now severed from most of his nerves in his body was now beyond suffering. Throwing a match into the grave, he watched the skeletal remains sizzle, dance and shrivel in the flames, he watched the boy burn as Armand watched too from his hiding place.

Wiping bloody tears from his face with his sleeve, Lestat ran from the grave before Armand could say a word to him.

Armand walked to the edge of the grave. The flames swayed inside the shallow depression. "Disaster, my poor, foolish friend, disaster," Armand said kicking dirt into the grave, "with you, my dear lover, Lestat, only the very best of disasters."

Stumbling through the alleys, unaware Armand was chasing him, Lestat wished the world would become a snake to devour him completely. Instead, music which fed right into the grief of his hurt and tarnished soul. Music devoured the rough sounds of the din of a constant dying humanity continuously crowding underneath his thoughts.

Knocking on the door of the small hovel, seeking out a different source of nourishment, a nourishment of the soul, he put his forehead against the wood, praying for whoever was in there to hurry and open the damn door.

The music stopped. A young man let him in. Lestat almost fell in his arms.

"What's the matter?" Stephen cried, "Let me support you my poor friend before you fall down. Were you attacked by cutthroats?"

"A funeral, I came from a funeral," Lestat mumbled, "Cut throat, non, no one has harmed me. It is I who cuts the throats, " he laughed maniacally, "Your music. It matches my mood. Dark, troubled, turbulent. Could you play it for me, merci? I will pay you, but ask for your price, and I will pay you in gold."

""First let me help you to my bed," Stephen said, "I have no place else for you to sit."

The walls were painted in a fantastical black with blots of silver for stars. The room reeked of starvation and sour wine. The boy of twenty one years his face was almost hid behind waves of fine, whisky amber, brown hair tied back to hang down to his waist. He looked totally uncared for, shabby, and radiantly beautiful with his dreamy, lost looking, brown eyes, and a loose, liquid, ripe mouth. "Here," he said, leading Lestat through the sheet papers tossed about on the floor, "You look like you could use a drink." He helped Lestat to lay back on his cot.

"This blankets you are putting over me are as thin as you," Lestat laughed, while Stephen put the smelly cloth over his shoulders.

"Perhaps I may freeze to death next winter with the rest of the poor scarecrows," Stephen said cheerfully, "You, my friend, how can you be so chilled when it is so sticky out tonight?" He rubbed briskly at Lestat's arms. "Would you like a drink of my wine? It's nasty, my friend. You'll spit it out before you can even swallow it. Who died?"

"A stranger who was beloved of a loved one," Lestat said, starting to cry, laying his head on the boy's dirty shoulder.

(8)

"Monsieur, your eyes! They are bleeding," Stephen cried alarmed.

"Non, I, play for me please. I beg of you. I will not hurt you if you promise to play for me."

"Why would you hurt me?" Stephen whispered confused.

Going to the piano, he played the notes of a wild reckless waltz. A grim reaper of a waltz, Lestat could envision the diety Death in the rise and fall of the beats and melodies of the music. Death doing a a dance, raising his scythe to salute Lestat, the bountiful Lestat who provided him with so many subjects to his dire kingdom, Graven, busy worms peeked out from Death's ribs and pelvis as he swirled around in his robe.

Raising the wine bottle to his vision of Death, Lestat laughed and wept at the playful friendly vision.

"Monsieur, this music is over," Stephen said, quietly. The dream of a prancing Death disappeared, leaving the living and the undead in its wake.

"What if I do not want the music to be over? Come here. Look at me. Look at my glass nails, look at my fangs," Lestat said in a low threatening voice.

Going to him, Stephen knelt at his feet taking his hands. "I dreamed of you. I wrote this song for you, and now I finally have played it for you," Stephen said softly, "And now you will tell me why you weep? For I'm not afraid of you."

"Why shouldn't you be?" Lestat said astonished, tracing his long nail on his face, "I have a partner. Non, he isn't anything to me. He despises me as you should, and if you do not you soon will. I swear you will. He's beautiful. I have a daughter. He wanted to leave me. I couldn't take an eternity of loneliness without him So I killed her and recreated her in our image for him to love, if he could not love me at least let the poor ass love someone! At first she loved us both. Now, his child, my child, our child, she both loves and hates me in spurts. Can you imagine the loneliness I suffer? His indifference. Her anger. Which I richly deserve, and the only
consolation I have is to despair and love them both from afar, but it hurts, it's agony to live this way, and I hurt them back constantly. I should leave you now. I should leave them, too, and never come back."

"You should not leave them," Stephen said firmly. "He loves you. He must. How can you doubt it? How can you think anyone else is beautiful after looking at yourself in a mirror?"

"You mock me!"

"I do," Stephen teased, feeling compassion for the strange creature sitting on his bed, forgetting any horror it might be sensible to feel, "Tell them you love them."

"Why? They would only reject me. She already has. Through I have told her over and over again how much I love her. If I said those words to him, and he looked at me with the same disgust I see sometimes in her eyes, I tell you I would not want to live not a second longer."

"I would not reject you. I befriend Death," Stephen whispered, "My parents disowned me because I would not marry a rich girl who had her sentimental eyes on me. They stopped sending me money, and have told me I could rot along with my dreams. I, my friend, I am a killer. A poor man came into my concert hall, this hovel you think you see, it deceives you! Look at it differently, and you will see it is a concert hall. The man, he tied to kill my piano. To use its wood to fuel his winter fire. I saw how poor he was, how frightened, and I had no mercy for him! I shot him. No one but you knows this. I do not sleep monsieur. My piano, my music is my life! I selfishly killed him to keep myself alive."

"I kill to keep myself alive too, my little fool, would you like a kiss from your friend Death's, very own lips?"

"I would like that very much monsieur for you can't kill me unless it is my time to die. I'm the Death Angel's musician, and you will fall in love with me as I have fallen in love with you, before you can even dream of finishing me off."

Lestat put his lips to his neck. The words fallen in love with you thrilled him. Words he never heard before, at least not from someone as mysterious and lovely as this mortal. Words he could laugh at for having been said to early. Words he could desperately cling to. Suddenly feeling wary, he fringed indifference. "You're filthy, forget it, not even Death would choose a boy like you."

"Then let me wipe myself clean for Death," Stephen said, pouring wine on his neck.

The sour taste of stale cheap wine greeted Lestat's lips. Blood greeted his tongue, music rippled out of Stephen's mind into Lestat's mind as he drank Stephen's blood, a fountain of notes one,
two , three, four, more and more, a galaxy of Stephen's celestial sounds.

Gasping, Lestat pushed Stephen away. Stephen's crotch was hard with a moist erection.

"Don't, I beg, don't," Lestat gasped, gently slapping at the hands pulling down his breeches. Lestat's cock stood out helplessly hard under his day shirt. Lifting the material up, Stephen caressed and held the ivory cock. Lubricating it with the wine, Stephen slid his mouth on it. The cock went down his throat as smooth as a bonze dildo, relaxing his throat muscles, Stephen took it all in, sucking and playing with his tongue on it, flirting with it, caressing the cold heavy balls, pressing his fingers on Lestat's ass spreading open his anus, his other fingers toying between his muscular butt cheeks.

Lestat undulated playing with Stephen's hair. He would have laughed if he wasn't so blissfully captured in Stephen's hot mouth. Imagine a mortal sucking him in such a fashion, such a wondrous fashion.

"I'm gong to cum," Lestat begged, backing away from his mouth, "Don't taste it, stay away."

Dead sperm shot into Stephen's face. Quickly, Lestat wiped it off with his hand, unable to resist tasting it himself.

"Lay down with me, my Death Angel," Stephen whispered, "I'm so used to the cold, lay down with me. Keep me cold. With you, I want to be cold with you."

"I believe I would lay down in hell for you. Take Cerberus out for a walk for you," Lestat said gently, curling against him, "Don't call me Death anymore."

Lubricating Stephen with wine and spit, Lestat's cock eased into Stephen's thin buttocks. The oven of Stephen's insides made his erection even stiffer, moving in and out of him, fucking him gently so not to hurt him, his mind chorused with the symphony in his lover's minds and limbs.

Blood cum explored out of his tingling cock, "You're bleeding" Lestat said pulling out, bending down to taste the blood and cum seeping out of Stephen's buttocks. Stephen tasted of earthy things; he tasted of a boy playing in a muck of sunshine, dirt, flowers, and life. The taste made Lestat feel amusingly dizzy. Stephen's blood may of tasted of music, and his body of dirt and salt, but the after taste of him was of alcohol. It was the sweetest of intoxication.

Gathering Stephen to him, kissing his face, hair, and neck over and over again, Lestat whispered, "I will pay for you."

"I'm not a whore."

"Non, you are my genius. I will be your manager. I'll try my best to further your career. You remind me of another boy, a boy who played paino as well as you, but differently. A colored boy, by the name of Jamie. He amused me; you astound me. Understand I will give you money, and take you to the saloons of great men and ladies. You must dress the part I desire you to play."

"Am to live with you then?"

"Non, perhaps someday. I will always love Louis, my partner more. You can not rival him in my affections. I ask you to be a friend and I ask to you be my lover too. Is it not a fair enough exchange for you? My help for your help? I am lonely, and I need your help to feel alive again."

"I accept your offer, I told you piano my music is my life. A lover could never be my life. Only a small part of it," Stephen confessed.

"Then we have an arrangement you and I. Here are the terms, break one rule, and I will never see you again. You sold your musician's soul to the devil."

"And what shall I call this devil?" Stephen said smiling, his hips aching.

"Lestat, who justly adores you."

"Stephen."

"I know your name. You will let me dress you. One rag on your body, and it's the street for you. You will let me house you, and I will pick out all the furnishings. You will go to concerts with me, and restaurants. You will let me watch you eat. You will allow me to feed you. And I would have you describe the taste of food and wine to me as if I were a blind man who needed things described to me. You will let me touch you with what ever degree of vulgarity and gentleness as I choose to apply to your flesh. You will let me applaud your triumphs."

"Trifles, clothing, food, luxury, trifles which I care so little about. You can dress me in silk pantaloons with diamond bobs hanging from my nose for all I care" Stephen laughed, "You will listen, and listen well. You will leave me alone when I am composing and writing new music. You will ignore me when I weep because the music I play doesn't reach the standard of how the music in my mind sounds. And when I have a temper tantrum because I am frustrated that I can not make my music into the perfect quality I demand, and so I put holes through the walls with my fist, and I break the furniture, you will forgive me for it."

"Do your composing during the day. Oui, I can live by your terms. Your terms delight me," Lestat laughed, somehow feeling deliciously settled down and married to the mortal now lustfully kissing his lips.

I do not know what it is with you, Lestat thought, All my other loves before Nicky, Marius, Armand, Gabrielle, they seem like childish infatuations of a adolescent compared to how I feel about you.. With you I feel a maturity I never thought could be possible in me Except for Louis, Louis is my life. I'm as obsessed with him as you are obsessed with your music. Your music, your life, hurts you sometimes as my Louis, my life, hurts me. We can be a comfort to each other when our cruel obsessions hurt us.

"Shame," Lestat whispered his voice catching, "Is what divides a family. My daughter is ashamed of me, she is ashamed of what she is. It's like she and Louis, they do not even want me to try to prove to them I love them because of the mistakes I didn't mean to make with
them."

What kind of mistakes?" Stephen said, soothingly caressing his face.

"Too many numerous mistakes," Lestat said wanly." I wish I could help you with your mistakes. My family is ashamed of me too because of what I am, ashamed of my choices. They do not
try to love me anymore. Should I care? I don't. So it's over between my parents and I," Stephen said defiantly.

"It will never be over between Louis, Claudia, and myself," Lestat said seriously, "They belong to me, I love them. Whatever our faults we are a family."

"And what am I then to you?" Stephen said, squishing up his face.

"You my love, you are comfort. You do not belong to me. You chose to be with me, and I chose to be with you," Lestat laughing at the funny face Stephen made, kissing his nose.

Oh I can see it now, Armand thought shaking his head in exasperation, watching through Stephen's cracked glass window. Yet another fledging to over populate our world with. Scorned once again I will not be, Lestat when I propose my love to you.

"Damn you, Armand whispered, "The monsters you created will die. Didn't I murder many of my own monsters, the children of darkness, when you killed the meaning of their being alive for me? You turned me into a bitter ghost after you killed my concept of worshipping a congregation of murderers into a fool's ashes Then you turned me out to be abandoned when I pleaded with you to adore me before all others. You are the mocking indifferent God who deserves to be put in misery for the misery of my world. First you created two insane fledglings, one of whom I had to murder, and now a pathetic fledging who almost forever lived like an idiot on animal parts, then a prattling, little girl who you know by the dark law must be put to death by others who come across her. Damn your hide!!! Who is more responsible to kill her than I the coven master? Now, it shall be this morbid musician. Non, Lestat, your plans of domestic bless will never come to fruition."

Leaving Stephen with money and instructions, Lestat went to Rue Royal. He entered into his town house's warmth and settled into his chair. A rosy glimmer from a red lamp lit Louis' face from where he sat reading.

I love you more, wish for you more now that there is someone new in my life, Lestat thought sadly.

He couldn't help but compare the two men in his life Through here was no denying Stephen was beautiful, Lestat would in a heart beat call his new lover ugly compared to Louis. He shut his eyes, troubled. Passionate, talented Stephen was beautiful to be with while Louis was beautiful to look upon. Why can't I fall in love with him, and out of love with Louis, and finally fall from out of harm's way?

Putting his hand on Louis' shoulder, his voice the caress he wished he could physically give Louis, he said, "Not a word for me?"

"What is there to say? Claudia is shattered over what happened. I tried to calm her down and tired to explain to her we meant her and Jean no harm She will have none of it," he said pressing Lestat's hand.

"Why don't you leave?" Claudia said listlessly behind them, "No one needs you to be here anymore. Leave Lestat."

"I'll leave when I'm good and ready to leave!" Lestat hissed anger overwhelming him.

"I want you gone! I wish you dead." she cursed him, "I wish Jean was here to see you dead in your coffin, in your grave! You sicken me!"

"Do you wish Jean here? Impossible my dear," Lestat cried caustically, "I only on rare occasions bring back the dead" Grabbing her arm, he yanked her to him to face him, "You and I have something important to do together."

"Lestat, leave her alone," Louis demanded, grabbing Lestat's shoulder, "It's almost dawn. Don't touch her."

"The hell with you, Louis! Do you want to be protected from me Claudia?"

"Do your worse" she said coldly, "You're good at being evil father I'm living proof of that! Where is your sense of shame!"

"I'm coming along " Louis said grabbing his cloak.

"It would be best if you stayed here" Lestat said threats in his clear gray eyes. Angrily, Lestat twisted Claudia's arm.

Louis stepped back frightened he might only make Lestat's fury worse, "Swear to me you won't hurt her," he begged.

"The devil take you and your ridiculous suspicions of me That is the only reason you remain here with me. Your suspicions about what I might do if you leave. Leave you coward and find out!"

(9)

It's not the only reason I'm remaining. Lestat, please let her go," Louis cried

"Ah, if only I believed in one single word you say," Lestat said bitterly, dragging Claudia out the door.

"Where are you taking me you monster?" she yelled.

"To face another monster."

Jean's father Franval was calling for Jean. Worry was almost causing his small body to double up in nerve whacking pain. Never had Jean stayed out as long as this.

"Why are you not at the circus where you belong?" a blond stranger asked him. The child in the stranger's arms was staring at Franval. Never had Franval seen a child with such wide open, cold eyes.

"Monsieur, I beg of you," Franval cried, too worried to wonder why a man would be out in an alley with a small child this late. "Have you seen a young man? With red hair? He was wearing blue breeches, a white shirt. Unhand me monsieur," he squealed, his tiny legs kicking in the air.

"Describe this dwarf to me immediately Claudia," Lestat said his hand smothering the humiliated little man's screams for help.

"Non," she wept, "Have mercy."

"Do it now. I will not harm you, but do not put me in such a temper where I will not be able to spare others the violence of my anger! Do it now!" he yelled.

Trembling, she said in a trembling, small voice, "He has wrinkles, falling skin, along with his hair which is falling out, he has pain in his joints at times, yet he does his tricks leaps and somersaults, no matter the pain, his heart sometimes tightens in his chest. Cancer is starting in his blood, his blood. Lestat, non!"

"It will be a more painful death for him to die of cancer. He's hideous. Isn't he?"

"When he was young," she whispered.

"He was once quite handsome, despite his small size," Lestat said quietly, hurting for her, "Such a small neck on a man who had lived so many years as he."

Gently, Lestat released his grip on the old dwarf's throat, letting him fall to the ground. Before Franval could scramble away. Lestat swooped on him breaking the skin, draining him rapidly. Pulling himself away from the corpse, Lestat told her "Look at him now."

"He's turning blue, the gas in his body will erupt and swell his flesh out, his skin will moisten and blacken and decay. His bones will blossom out of the decay of his flesh, his features will be
extinguished all that will be left of his face will be a white calcium skull of holes and teeth." she dully said.

"The dawn is almost upon us. This is what I saved you from! Look at him, I saved you from corruption. It wasn't I who hurt you. It was illness, the plague. Grieve for you mother, those things are what hurt you Claudia, it's growing up which has hurt you. Not me. I love you. I want you to be happy. To be grateful for everything I have given you. Have Louis for a lover. Neither one of us wants to hurt you. Neither one of use would ever leave you."

"I don't want Louis' pathetic love. His sadness, his grief. He doesn't love me in the way I need to be loved," Claudia pleaded.

"If you only would ask him, he will become the kind of lover you want him to be," Lestat insisted.

"Out of guilt only! Just like you are making this suggesting out of guilt!" Claudia cried.

I'm suggesting this because I know deep down he could love you," Lestat said, praying that it were true.

"You didn't have to kill him," Claudia said, tenderly touching the old man's face.

"As one loving father to another, I'm sure he would have understood," Lestat said laying the corpse on the ground. "Father and son are together now. He no longer needs to spend constant nights searching for Jean."

"Are father and daughter together now too Lestat? Non, we do not belong together," Claudia said, her voice as cold as granite.

"Claudia, we have to go home," Lestat said, picking her up as if she was still six years old.

"Claudia, are you all right?" Louis said once they returned to Rue Royal.

Claudia submitted almost gratefully to Louis' caresses and kisses on her lips and cheeks. She felt the same way she felt the night Lestat told her to kill a woman who reminded her of her mother. She had ran all the way home. When Louis found her hiding he kissed her that night just as he was kissing her now. Breaking away from Louis in frustration, she cried, "Nothing happened to me. Lease me alone!"

She sighed at the look of hurt concern on Louis' face, always concerned, always--pitying?

"I want to go to bed now," she whispered, feeling so very cold in Louis' fatherly embrace.

"Of course Claudia," Louis said, taking her to their bedroom.

The next evening she awoke in her's and Louis' casket to find Lestat staring down at her and Louis.

"Cherie tonight, let's the three of us go out. Like we once did. Remember those nights of opera, and of Shakespeare? How we would laugh later over comedies like a "Midsummer's night Dream"? Claudia, we can return to nights like those with a little effort on all of our parts," Lestat begged.

"I'm going out on my own," Claudia said rudely.

"Have it your way then. There's nothing to laugh at these days," Lestat said sadly.

"Laugh at Louis. You're good at that," Claudia taunted him.

Looking up, awake from his slumber, Louis reached up and took Lestat's hand, "I think the three of us should go out," he said placatingly, forgetting to scold Lestat for invading his privacy.

Leaving Rue Royal, they went to Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night". As the curtain rose Claudia hissed, "I'm sick to death of Shakespeare. I'm sick to death of it, sick," her voice banged like a drum.

"Leave then" Lestat said wearily, "I want the both of you to leave."

"Lestat," Louis protested.

"I want to have some time alone," Lestat said, heart sickened.

"She'll get over this Louis assured him watching Claudia go. "It's been a shock. Give her time to get over Jean's death.."

"I thought I given her everything including time," Lestat said, kissing Louis' cheek, "I made her timeless."

Lestat slipped out, separating himself from Louis, to visit with Stephen. He was dying to cherish someone. Someone who wanted his gifts

Claudia bought chrysanthemums from a vendor. She went back to the alley and laid them on Jean's grave Jean's father's body still had not yet been discovered by mortals. Green and black flies buzzed around the small corpse's eyes, nose, and ears. Colorless liquid leaked from his gaping mouth.

"Where are my feelings, my compassion, the terror I should feel?" she whispered to Jean's grave, "There is nothing but an ocean of distance between us now.. I miss you, but my heart is cold over you being dead. I can not feel for your death, I can only feel for what I remember about you being alive."

"That's the way it is for beings such as you and I. The dead hold no spell for us, if they did, our loved ones, our mothers, fathers who are destined to die before us would drag us into the very dirt they now dissolve in. Claudia," the amber eyed vampire standing suddenly next to her said.

"Who are you?" she whispered, standing fearlessly straight through her heart raced with excitement and fear.

"Read my mind young one," Armand sweetly offered.

She broke into a soul which was both wondrously wicked and enchanting. He whispered his name into her mind as if his name were a magic word.

"Armand, beloved," she said softly, "What do you want of me? Something, nothing at all?"

"I could sense your sorrow from miles away. Why do you play with mud, ashes, and decaying small men? Let me escort you, my fine one, to a ball."

"A ball, this very moment?" she laughed, her tiny. lovely laugh, "My dress, it's too simple."

"Non, you are simply ravishing in it. And if you do not dance with me," his pleasant voice echoed in her mind, "Why I may die of envy for all the men who must have held you close during a waltz."

"You will have no cause to die. No one, who has ever mattered to me, had the opportunity to hold me in a waltz," she said turning from him, dropping another white chryanthemum on the grave.

"Then," he said, taking one of the flowers from her, "I'm destined to be the first."

He's lovely, Claudia thought, bold, his hair is of auburn, and shines like the sun I barely remember.

"Leave me be," she said slowly walking away.

"Am I not charming to you?"

"Too charming, too exotic. Leave me alone."

"I can't, I'm too taken with you," he cried, bowing.

"Then take me to the ball, but put me back where you found me after it's over," she cried, running to him.

"I can think of better places to put you, Armand thought, imagining her hair singed, smoking, her small body caving into glittering ashes. So beautifully you will burn. If not I it will be someone else who kills you. You're too small and too weak to live with we monsters who own grand appetites to sniff out lives.

Taking her hand, he lifted her up in his arms, mesmerizing her. Her eyes turned inward into her mind. In her dream Armand gifted her with long, slender legs dancing beneath her empress gown. The lad dancing with her was Armand himself. His face half hidden in a gaudy black
mask decorated with peacock feathers, black jet gems, and rubies. Her own mask was a spotless white satin innocent of adornment. Her waist was caught in a corset. her small breasts peeking out of the lace of her bodice. His eyes were merry and mischievous.

The dancers were dressed as if they were at a king's palace. Elaborate wigs were high above their faces. Faces as pale as the palest powdery snow. All of them danced elegantly, their feet moving in intricate steps off the floor. The men leaped into the air looking as wondrous as Amazon parrots in their fanciful garments. The ladies clapped their gloved hands, spinning around the room. Their wide dresses spread out to look like spinning bells, everything had an
under current of bells in it; the voice, the laughter, gaiety and the music. Amongst them all, Claudia twirled around and around with Armand leading her. Till all at once they stopped dancing, and everything was blackness. And she was alone with him. Armand shone like a star in her arms. His lips crushed against hers, he kissed good enough to love.

(10)

"Wake up my dear," Armand whispered softly in her ear, "The clock is chiming at midnight. It's time to hunt for prey."

"Oh," Claudia said. "You are right. I belong with my own kind, and not with Jean's ashes, and his freaks."

Armand approved, kissing her parted lips. The touch of his firm lips on her tiny ones caused her to almost swoon. She tasted a drop of blood on his tongue. Sugar to her soul.

" It's the magic kisses like these which makes love possible between beings like ourselves. I can give you those dreams. I am," he tried not to smile, " a wizard"

"Then prove it."

'Perhaps I may," Armand chuckled "Hunt with me first so I can see if you're worthy."

"What decides my worth?"

"I do not cast my magic spells for slaves," Armand said.

"I am no one's slave take me with you."

Ah, the very words I once said to Lestat, Armand thought bitterly.

"I have more to offer to you than you have to offer to me. First you have to prove yourself to me. Hunt with me, my beauty, I want to see you kill before I offer you a taste of myself again. And I will, Claudia, never fear, I know I will make the offer again," Armand said smiling.

While Claudia and Armand talked, miles away, Lestat joined Stephen. He basked in the happy appreciative glow of Stephen's eyes as he and Stephen entered the town house Lestat had bought Stephen with the help of his lawyers.

"Shopping, we must go shopping for china, and glasses, and everything we can stuff into your new home. Stephen what is the matter?"

"Nothing," Stephen said, 'I didn't think you were going to show up."

"I was detained. Believe me as soon as I was freed from my engagement, I hurried right here," Lestat said guiltily, knowing he may well not have showed up if his going to the play with Claudia and Louis had not ended up being a disaster.

"Your friend, Mademoiselle de Clavior, when I played her my music tonight I could tell she was humoring you in her praise of me," he said, running his hands along his new piano's keys.

"What of it? Humor her next time, play something happy. Giddy. Something for people to enjoy."

"I must be going now," Stephen said coldly, "Here are the keys to your house."

"Save what is beautiful and tragic for people of taste," Lestat said gently catching his wounded lover in his arms, "Listen to me. Let me be all the audience you need. Your music is sublime. It's other worldly. It can only be pleasing to creatures like myself. I'm enthralled by your music I'm enchanted with you."

"Merci, Lestat but I must sell at least of one of my compositions," Stephen laughed self consciously.

"Be a failure, if you can't conform, you must be a failure. If you can't learn to bend your knee to the so called great men and women, if you can't feed them with flattery, kiss their asses--a failure you will be. You did not endear yourself to madam. Call her pretty, kiss her hands."

"I knew her to be indifferent to my music, so I lost interest in her."

"A little flattery," Lestat teased.

"Which would make me false. You must love my music," Stephen said, sliding his hand on the fine finish of his piano, "otherwise you would have left me where where I was."

"You and I are opposites. When I was on the stage I did everything to please my audience. I would even stand on my head if that's what it took to win their applause."

"It's more important for me to love my music than it is for the audience to love me," Stephen said earnestly. "You found a home in the theartre. It was important for you to be loved by your theatrical family. I do not care if I have a family or not. It not as important to me as it is to you to be loved."

"That's why I love you. You're not bitter about not pleasing the audience. You put your art first. I certainly can not be in love with you for your looks," Lestat said sincerely, "I've seen too many
beautiful cold faces. This kind of love it must go beyond appearances. Did you get yourself something to eat?" he said anxiously.

"Oui, I have already eaten. You can take me out later for dessert if you like. I love banana fosters. With whip cream," Stephen said, peeling away at a mango he bought at a French Market.

"How does it taste to you. The fruit?" Lestat asked watching him eat into the soft, yellow flesh.

"Sour, tangy, and sweet, everything at once. Have a bite," Stephen said his mouth wet with juice.

"Non, I would rather bite you," Lestat teased, going to him, rubbing his face on his shoulder, "In the folds of your clothes I can smell sunshine" he marveled.

"I sat out in the court yard writing today," Stephen said kissing Lestat's cheek making it sticky. "Your loss. This mango is quite good. You should take a bite."

"You know too little about me."

"I know you're not a man as I am. And you drank my blood. Is it how you survive then? I would rather not know everything about you. It is better that way. Whatever you are, an angel or a devil, it doesn't matter. I know you're my friend, that is enough for me to know," Stephen said, quietly. "Anything else you want to tell me I will leave it up to you."

"I'll tell you everything about me someday. Come let's not dawdle. I mean to take you out and reward you for you performance tonight. Furnishings! I've also arranged for a fitting with an excellent tailor."

"Have you?" Stephen said, taking up a drawing pad. "I did some designs I would like to have made for me."

Lestat took the pad, looking them over, "Ah, these designs are very elegant, the lines you made. Unique."

"Merci. And the fabrics must be very fine. I'm not as concerned with the clothing mind you, as much as I am concerned with the composition of how the colors, the textures of the fabrics go
together, or how certain things such as the gold silk ascot will stand out from the peacock feathers embroidered on the great coat. Do you see?"

"I do see, and I like the black breeches you have to go with the brilliance of the coat, I see a definite oriental influence in this, very decadent. You're remarkable. Like a butterfly. Your music, it's so dark. Like a butterfly you feed on the juices of carrion and decay. You become inspired. Then you fly out, brilliant and tipsy in the back ground," Lestat said proudly, "Perhaps through, there should be a stand up collar to this design of the shirt, rather than the ruffles going down from a big, floppy bow of a collar."

"I have to agree with you," Stephen said seriously, "It gives it an air of sophistication."

Lestat couldn't believe his ears. At last a lover he could disagree with, and that lover would actually consider what he said, and then make a sound decision whether he agreed with him or not. Here at last was a lover who didn't mock him like Marius the teacher, or Nicky who forever was lashing out at him with his spitefulness, or Gabrielle with her indifference, his father with his shame for what occurred, or Louis, oh, Louis, Louis wouldn't care to have such a conversation over of all things clothing.

I feel so right with you. You don't diminish me like everyone else in my life has, Lestat thought gratefully.

"So I am always in the background, ah we know who holds the center stage for you, don't we?" Stephen said, putting his designs back, "You've been wanting to say these kind of words to a lover for such a long time. I can feel the hunger in your voice. Are you sure you are hungry for me?"

"Starving," Lestat said, "Let's get you out of the clothes you borrowed from me."

"I'm not jealous of your lover, Louis," Stephen said, teasingly letting his frock coat fall to the floor.

"Ah, don't you have any talent for flattery? Louis is not my lover. Even so, a little jealousy if you would," Lestat said, consoling himself with the idea that Stephen loved his music more than he loved him so he need not feel guilty for being in love with Louis.

"I have nothing to be jealous of," Stephen said, undoing his day shirt pulling it open so Lestat could finger his chest, "Once you have him in your bed. You will leave me. I'm a realist."

"You're a fool. I taste in your lips that you appreciate everything I have given you. You appreciate my love. Even if Louis would succumb to my devious charms, I will still find time to be with you."

"There are so many types of love, desire, and needs," He licked his tongue against Lestat's face, "Why justify our relationship? I entertain you, and you do me the greatest favor any artist would
desire. You enjoy my work. For that reason alone I would love you, even if, ah Lestat touch me there again, even if you never touched me there again. I would want you in my life as my friend. You're warm tonight,"

"You're the reason," Lestat said with a smooth lie, thinking of the two prostitutes he killed earlier.

"You know, I wronged Louis, one very special evil night. I should have gotten to know him before I took him to be my companion."

"He's a fool. It's not so hard to love you."

"It's not?" Lestat asked like a child, "Now you lie to me."

"Non, it's not. Not when you love back. I feel in our own way we love each other."

"Why are we here outside of this town house?" Claudia whispered up on the window ledge with Armand, "Who is here that you would want me to kill?"

"Look inside and see," Armand said.

Claudia watched stunned as Lestat's tongue licked and caressed whatever took his fancy, And what he fancied most of all was a beautiful boy's ass thrust up in the air. She shut her eyes at her
father's nudity, but only for a second, fascinated she watched as her father poured wine on his finger, parting the boy's hole, then licking at it with the tickle of his lengthy tongue, moistening the boy more.

"My God, my God, I hate him," she whispered, her state of shock becoming a jealous rage, "He has everything. Everything, he can take a lover while I can not. How dare he!"

"You can too," Armand said quietly, "All you must do is kill him."

"Kill him?" Claudia said flatly, jumping from the ledge.

"Kill him. He'll never let you go, Claudia," he said, falling beside her.

"I don't have to kill him. I'll just leave," Claudia said defensively.

"He will not let you go. Without you how long will his beautiful Louis stay at his side?"

"Without me Louis would leave him," Claudia said emptily, "I think he would leave him. I don't know."

"You want to prove you're not a slave then kill him."

"I dislike him for his utter selfishness," Claudia said hotly.

"Then end it. Here is what you must do. Drive a knife through him. Drain him dry. Then consecrate his body to the earth. Listen to me, listen very carefully. The only way he'll find peace is if you throw his carcass to the swamp or any old hole in the ground. You must not burn him. Burning him will cause him to be a restless murderous soul who will come back to haunt you,"

"And then?"

"And then you must find me my beloved, Claudia. I will require but one more sacrifice."

"Not, mon papa?" Cladia said dazed.

"Oui, how do you think I broke way from my master? Do not worry, I will kill Louis for you. I killed my master and his powers fell on to me. Kill Lestat and you will have everything he and nature has robbed you of."

"Why do you hate him and Louis? Tell me the truth," Claudia cried, her knuckles turning white from clinching her fists.

He robbed me once of those I loved, robbed me of my calling in life, you could say," Armand said coolly, "If you have it in you. Do it. I want him to be as humiliated as I was when he destroyed my coven."

"I will think about it," Claudia said running away from him.

After the two of them got dressed. Stephen and Lestat strolled out onto the dirt road.. Laughing, Lestat pulled Stephen out of the way before a wagon splashed sewer at him.

"My dear friend. How did you live so long? You do not care where you are going?"

"I was composing in my head," Stephen said ruefully, "Lestat, I am grateful you want to dress me, but, well, devil take the tailor tonight. Let's go to a party. All my friends will be there. Bernard, Rolland, Juilette. Listen to me, not only the riffraff of musicians I hang out with will be there. The grand dame, Liszbetta, she will be there too, from the opera buffino. How can you refuse the fair Liszbetta?"

"How can I?" Lestat said gaily, feeling drawn to him to lift up his chin, and kiss his lips already smelly with wine, a much finer wine than before.

"Lestat," Louis said coming upon the two.

"Ah, Louis," Lestat said flustered. "Pardon me, this is my dear friend, Stephen."

"I see," Louis said, amazed at how familiar Lestat's body seemed to be with Stephen's. "I was just going to go home to see to Claudia."

""The evening is yet young!" Stephen said shyly, "You must be Monsieur de Pointe du Lac. Lestat raves about you constantly," Stephen said, bringing out his hand for Louis to shake.

"Does he now?" Louis said, arching his eye brow.

"We were about to enter this tavern here, The Swan's Neck, come along with us if you would like," Stephen, said, untangling his arm from Lestat's. Stephen knew the truth in an instant, indeed he could be no rival to someone as beautiful as this sleek, young man looking down at
him with his radiant, questioning eyes.

Entering the tavern with his two companion, Stephen left them to run to his friends, other composers. Lestat took in the rough, sloppy, ill clad, drunken musicians with a visual embrace.

"Stephen," called Bernard, "And who are the fancy delights you have for friends? Other men of notes like ourselves?"

Introductions we're hasty made. The musicians took up their fiddles. horns, and stringed instruments, drunkenly they sang a filthy ditty of a priest and a poor nun. Stephen leaped up and linked arms with a pretty young bar maid, who protested with scolding tunes, "I am working, monsieur!"

"With a saucy laugh, he led the maid into a frantic, silly jig. With a bold gaffe, she joined his steps to the measure of music which only an alley cat in heat would adore. More dancers came to the floor. A sailor blew on his wind pipes. Two sailors started to jig with some whores they brought into the bar. Everything smelled of unwashed bodies, spilled wine, intoxicated breath, and malt. A sailor dancing with a whore gave Stephen a come hither glance of pure flirtation. Stephen kicked up his heels ignoring the burly boy.

Ah well, a woman can suck cock as much as a boy can, the sailor thought, twirling his bought lady.

Stephen whirled around, he almost landed with a thud on the bench, but Lestat couldn't resist catching him to land in his lap. Louis waited for Lestat to take a little drink from the drunken boy's throat. Louis' mouth fell down in amazement when instead Lestat kissed Stephen passionately on the mouth. Lestat looked up, his face had a sheepish carried away look. His smile was so disingenuous that a few dancers who were at first scandalized could not help but smile back at him..

"Give us a play, bony boy, "Raymond, a fiddler sang out to Stephen. Wobbling on his unsteady legs, Stephen made his way to a piano in the bar. Flexing his fingers, he made the mad descent onto the keys.

His music, Louis thought, trying to be dispassionate to no avail, "it is so layered, much more polished and complicated than my late cousin Jamie's. But, it is noise! One deep dangling note after another. It is beautiful. Perhaps like Mozart's it's ahead of its time. Perhaps there is no time in history which would tolerate this kind of wild, untamed, metallic splendor of music.

Stephen played on over the explosive clatter of boots with cheap wooden soles slamming on the sticky wood floor. Played over the clink of tankards filled with cheap wine, sloshing all over.

The other musician's smiled for their unpopular friend, knowing him to be an artist, pitying him that he was cursed with such a dismal muse.

Spinning off the piano bench, Stephen standing up, played a march to accompany the grand entrance of Liszbette. The opera singer was wearing a dress all sewn with shells; she was the goddess Venus. Her shimmering dark hair, flashing black eyes, and sophisticated Parisian face surveyed her admirers. She tossed her head interested in the blond, well dressed young man sitting with an equally well dressed young man with dark hair. The dark haired young man, through very handsome, had the look of one who had eaten a lemon.

Lestat, delighted at the attention, tossed his head flirtatiously. Smiling she broke into her favorite duet from the opera Tristan and Isolde. Lestat with no hesitation sang the role of Tristan, taking
the difficult parts with a winning fan fare, making fair Leszbette's eyes shine with even more reason to admire him.

"Monsieur," she cried after their duet, "How is it that we have never seen you before? Now, you must join our group of humble musicians."

"Non, non," Lestat said pleased, "I am but the manager of my wondrous Stephen."

Stephen, rather ingloriously, snuggled his sleepy head on Lestat's shoulder.

"Ah so I see, a sodomite with his boy. So that is your game. No matter. You are probably too high in society to want to be a player. No matter. You are wonderful. Look me up, monsieur if you by chance change your tastes," she said haughtily. With a dismissive nod to him, she and her toadies went to another table.

The night wore on with more dancing and drinking. Liszette even went so far as to forgive Lestat for his poor taste. She danced a minuet with him, and they sang more duets. Sometimes making the duets into hilarious, naughty satire.

"Did you like my composition?" Stephen said drunkenly to Louis.

"Why ask are you so insecure? It is clear you have admirers," Louis said frostily, regretting his words.

All night Lestat tried to act natural between Louis and Stephen, even going out of his way to socialize with other people, having a long talk with a Shakespearean actor, an old man with flowing locks, talking to him about the play MacBeth. Lestat could not help through at times going to Stephen, touching his hip bone, glazing his hand against Stephen's hips, laughing a little bit too earnestly at Stephen's drunken patter. Adoring him just a little too much. With Louis he played the role of being with a good friend. He kept his distance as he thought Louis wanted. Louis didn't know what he wanted. He neither wanted Lestat's attention, nor for him to pay
attention to Stephen, and this was causing Louis nothing but a confused misery. When a bunch of actors insisted on putting Stephen on a blanket, tossing him up in the air, Louis could feel the tension in Lestat.

He's afraid for Stephen, Louis thought dismally. The least injury done to Stephen would be a crisis for him.

Later, wrapping a passed out Stephen in his arms, blanketing him with his cloak, Lestat said, " I'm going to take him home."

"Should I expect you at Rue Royale tonight?" Louis said, wishing he did not care.

"Oui, of course, right after I put him to bed," Lestat said, happily

Turning his head away in disgust, Louis could not bear the look of lust and anticipation on Lestat's face for the unconscious boy. "I will see you soon then," Louis said, leaving.

Taking Stephen to his home. Lestat wiped the whimpering boy's face, kissing him slowly, and with love. Their naked chests cling to each other. Biting his hand, putting it between Stephen's crack, he lubricated him. Stephen's legs were flung over over Lestat's shoulders so he could watch his lover's face as he entered him, carefully pushing his cock inside till his balls rested between his legs. Moaning with sin, Stephen stared trustingly up in Lestat's eyes as he was being fucked. Flicking with his thumbs and fingers Stephen's erect nipples, masturbating Stephen's cock, Lestat glorified in every expression on Stephen's face of slack jawed, drunken ecstasy. Sometimes, when he pushed too hard inside Stephen, Stephen's face took a look of hurt, and his teeth gritted. Becoming gentler, Lestat whole body stiffened, he ejaculated inside of his lover. His tongue explored between Stephen's thighs, taking Stephen's erection in his mouth, sucking and working it , playing with his balls till the boy made delicate with starvation, released his seed in his mouth.

"Ah, you're not the type to swallow," Stephen laughed as he watched Lestat spit his cum out.

"I have to go," Lestat said, after kissing him a thousand times.

"I know you belong to them,' Stephen said sleepily, "Merci for the evening. Louis and I, once he comes to his senses, and he loves you back. He and I, I hope, he will become an admirer of my music"

"So do I hope, " Lestat said caressing Stephen's exposed naked hips before he left, "So do I."

After that evening and all the evenings after at Rue Royale, all Claudia could do was hopelessly dream of Armand. Everything she did made her feel reckless and unhappy. The taste of blood which he pressed upon her lips made her thirst for more such tastes.

Lestat started to hum a tune. He stopped when he realized what he was doing. He started to embarrassingly laugh at himself. Claudia glared at him with muted anger. Louis joined in with his laughter enable to resist such happiness.

"That musical score you were humming it came from your new friend, did it not?" Louis asked.

"Oui," Lestat said in a confiding, tender tone. "I'll have to kill him won't I? This mortal. He haunts me. What will it be like if I killed him? He would haunt me even more! Everything he does seems to be so new and exciting. I seem to have his music on my mind all the time."

"Oui, so you do, " Louis said, finding an excuse to look the other way, focusing on Claudia's caged finches so Lestat would not see the lonely look of loss on his face. Louis left the room, going into the courtyard.

Lestat's head was in a whirl. for months he had been taking Stephen to fittings, to concerts, and cafes. Sitting rapturously some evenings at Stephen's recitals. Knowing a much as he wanted to he could not embrace, could not tickle Stephen's nose with a feather, could not play with the crushed velvet of his breeches while he played. He had to remind himself to be respect of his lover when he was at his music. And after a while, he could not but be in awe at the sensations
Stephen's music caused him to feel, he totally forgot about trying to get Stephen's attention, totally even forgot about Stephen the man. It surprised him he was not jealous of Stephen. He totally believed in his talent. Last night after a particular poor reception of his music by the audience, Stephen joked his compositions would only become appreciated after he died. Lestat put his arm around Stephen, thinking protectively, Why should you die? This is not the type of
love of my youth. I love you as a man loves another man. An equal. Lestat thought, And the nights, ah, you're no Nicky, bitter, begrudging every drunken night he spend in my bed. Non, Stephen, the intoxication, it makes you lively, lusty, never have I had a lover so willing to be fucked all night long, desiring it, enjoying it as much as you!

"Father," Claudia said, settling herself at Lestat's feet.

"Oui, Claudia," Lestat said surprised she was even talking to him. Of late she seemed to be avoiding him

"I saw you with your so-called friend. You were making love to him," she said, challenging him.

"Claudia," Lestat said calmly, putting down his paper, "I have given you Louis. And I shall never take him from you. I'm gong to bring Stephen into our coven. It's time."

"How can you? she cried spitefully.

"If his presence causes either one of you pain, I will move in with him else where. He's mine, Claudia. He belongs to neither you nor Louis. He makes me happy."

"And when can I be happy?" Claudia said coldly.

"When you choose to be happy," Lestat said sullenly, "Where Stephen is concerned I'm indifferent to how you feel Claudia. According to you I have done all I can for you. Now I will put myself first."

"You've always put yourself first."

"Perhaps I have. It doesn't matter. It isn't my fault I found someone who unlike the two of you can love me back."

"Is it your fault you can put Stephen on the devil's road? Is it your fault I could not do the same for Jean? Is it your fault the boy I loved died while trying to kill me? Everything, you took
everything from me."

Picking up a letter opener, prying open a envelop, Lestat said coldly, "What would you have me do then? Kill a child for you? I suppose I could."

"You do not want to. The very thought of another like me, someone who will grow angry and bitter at you repels you. You could kill a child to keep Louis, but for me, non."

"I'm not sorry Claudia. I'm not. I gave you more than I took."

"Heartless."

"Non, I am too full of heart, to full of love."

Heartless, you threw me into a world to be a house pet to you. Crippled dependent on both of you. A pet who would die if it were left out on its own. I was never a child to you."

"It was never meant to be like this. I was impulsive. I didn't think your mind would grow beyond the age of a five year old. . I didn't think it would matter."

"Father it is the expectations of a real father to want his child to grow up to be independent. To become a person in their own right. To leave him someday. You didn't want that for me. You never wanted for me what every father wants for his child. You wanted a bebe doll. You didn't want me to be anything more. I was never a person to you!"

"I gave you life that's enough!"

"Do you love Stephen more than us?" she said in a small voice.

"Claudia, I will always love you and Louis. Things change Claudia."

"You should have thought about people changing before you made me. The night you created me. You enjoyed it?" She blushed, feeling confused, horrified, remembering the painful, then the sexually erotic sensations she felt while trying to make Jean. involuntarily, she put her hand close to her crotch, remembering it, remembering Jean's erection, the sensual ecstasy in his mind and body as he sucked on her, angrily she withdrew her hand. She wanted to sink to the floor and scream, thinking about her and her father.

"Claudia, I didn't think what I did to you would have any ramifications for either of us. You were a child. What did you know? You would remain a child. I told you after it was over,
never from me again."

"So the night I was born father, I was your lover for that one night. You must have loved Louis very much to do what you did to me," she said shakily.

"I do Claudia. Oui, I enjoyed the act with you. You enjoyed it too. You would enjoy it."

"With a child," Claudia covered her face, "Are you saying I would enjoy it with a child. Why Lestat, why did you kill Jean's father? He was defenseless."

"Claudia, child, old man, man in his prime, woman. It doesn't matter. They all are defenseless. There is such an evil in me Claudia, and that is the way it is with us all. We vampires. We are born on the devil's road to take what we want. We are good at getting what we want. Claudia, I wanted you. I had to have you. That is reason enough for what I did. None of it was meant to hurt you. Not like this. I have to be indifferent to you about Stephen. Claudia, I made mistake. I was foolish. It was worth it. The two of you, Louis and you, both of you, made me happy to be with you."

"Now we are not enough to make you happy. You're right things, people, they change. You won't be indifferent to us for long, father," Claudia said in a low voice.

"Where are you going Claudia?" Louis said, coming back into the room, his eyes alert on her.

"Come with me, Louis and find out," She said coolly.

Together they walked, their voices hushed.

"Tonight will be the night I kill him, and not a word of protest from you," she demanded, drawing herself up, "The mortal, Stephen, the very one he tells you he's going to kill. It isn't so. They are lovers Louis. I saw them. Worse than two dogs on the street!"

Louis face crumbled. "It's just as well. I've suspected this for weeks Claudia. Lestat's dropped enough hints."

"Non. it is not just as well, don't be sad for such a nobody as Lestat. I'm tired of being his slave."

"Claudia," Louis said trying to calm her, "I'm well aware of your unhappiness. And of Lestat's too. As I have already told you, I have suspected his feelings ran deep for this young musician. I've been making arrangement so you and I can move out.

"He still wants you! He'll never let you leave! He'll flaunt his new lover in your face. He's using you both. Stephen for sex. and to make you jealous, so he can sleep with the both of you! Do you want to be humiliated! If you can't go, I can't go!"

"Claudia be still," Louis demanded, "All this can be solved by our moving out. Why would Lestat stop us? I will not stand in the way of Lestat finally finding someone who can love him back. I know I can not love him as well as his boy loves him. I have no right to interfere with Lestat's chance at happiness with someone else! Nor do you have any right to hurt Lestat!"

(11)

"All I ask is that you do not interfere in my happiness," Claudia pleaded.

"And his being dead will make you happy? I will not interfere, because you will not commit this act. There is no need to," Louis said quietly.

Later that very evening Louis was crouched on the floor putting his finger to Lestat's blackened skull. The parody of it all! The filthy skeleton with his fancy rags made Louis burst out in tears of bitter hysteria. All he could think about was Claudia riding a screaming Lestat, stabbing at him with her butcher's knife. Lestat calling helplessly for him. And all he could do was stand back and watch unbelieving that Lestat could actually die.

"Stop playing with his face. He's dead Louis," Claudia said tonelessly.

"So we all should be," Louis said weeping.

Claudia bent down to lap at the blood on the floor.

"Enough crimes have been committed tonight. Have you no shame?" Louis yelled.

"But the power in his blood. The secrets it may reveal," Claudia argued, "Louis don't be a fool. Join me for a drink. I beg of you!"

"I will not let you touch one drop of his blood," Louis cursed. Running to the court yard for a bucket filled with rain water, he drenched the blood making it undrinkable.

"Louis, you fool, you fool," Claudia said sadly, feeling robbed, "Always sentimental."

A nightmare occupied the room. Lestat's grinning skeleton, the bodies of two male children Claudia took small sips from before she poisoned them both, and gave them to Lestat to kill so he would ingest the poison into his blood, and the bones of yet another child. This one a female and her mother Claudia had killed earlier.

"I did it for the mother and the child. I killed him for my mortal mother, and my mortal self. Neither of you should have separated me from my mother, from my life!" Claudia screamed at Louis, trying desperately to validate her motivations to him.

I did it for Jean, for Armand, she raged to herself, I did it for me. He deserved to die. He had everything.

"Wrap up their bodies in a sheet," Claudia said furiously, "We'll bury them in a swamp."

They traveled through the night in their carriage. Louis bleeding tears from his eyes. She fought her own tears away.

I loved Lestat once, she thought miserably to herself. This could not have gone on for all of eternity. I could not bear it. Lestat forgive me. I could not endure it. Being in your shadow forever. If you were me you would have killed me too.

She focused her thoughts on Armand's alchemy. his promises to her. His love replaces yours Lestat, she thought to herself, biting her nail. His love replaces everyone's love Jean's, Louis', no one else matters to me, she thought, denying the voice deep inside of her which wished for Lestat and Jean's return back into her life. She looked at her dark reflection on the carriage's window. She imagined she could hear Lestat's laughter outside, she imagined she could hear him say, What a pretty girl you are, imagined his warm kiss on her cheek. Her eyes dropped to the sheet covering her father's body. The whole of her mind begged her to reach out and touch his body, to give Lestat's body some sort of comfort, to wake it up. He couldn't be dead, he had to wake up. Trembling, she shut her eyes as tight as she could, reminding herself over and over again, I killed him. I killed him. I'm better off now that he's dead.

Louis drove the carriage his mind swinging from hating her, to pitying her. He stopped the carriage at the swamp, and helped her out.

You look like a being of quick silver to me. Louis thought, A cold being. You could be made of tinsel and wire. There is no soul in your determined eyes. You ceased being as beautiful to me as you once were, yet I love you, there is no escape from you, I have to love you, or I have to murder you, neglect you, desert you and forget you.

Remembrances of her childhood kept him to feeling responsible for her care, and oui, he could not stop the fact she was his. The child she once was committed him to be loyal to the monster he helped her become. He took out the bodies and committed them to the swamp. They both watched as the weight of the corpses started to drag the bodies into the water. Alligators began to swim around. Their great tails swishing the water into foam as they lunged at the fresh meat of
Claudia's recent kills, and the decayed meat of the mother and daughter. "Louis," Claudia cried, running to the water's edge, wading in, "We can't let them. God, they can't eat. Louis help me to
get him out of here!"

"Claudia," Louis yelled running to her, pulling her out of the water, taking off her soiled stockings and slippers.

"I'm glad he's dead, I don't want him, oh God," she cried, sobbing in his arms, "I'm glad he's dead. I'd kill him again. I'd kill him again."

The next night Louis went through the cypress and cotton wood tress to the edge of the swamp where they disposed of Claudia's victims.

Cutting open his wrist Louis said above all the subtle noises of the life teaming swamp, "Drink from me beloved, and love me back." Sadly, he dipped his wrist into the water. Leaves floated in the murky liquid which started to swirl.

MY GOD STOP!" he screamed.

Springing out of the water, a skull clamped its bony jaws firmly onto his wrist.

Twisting, kicking trying in vain to pull away, Louis fell back onto the grass. The slimy skeleton climbed on top of him

"Drink then, kill me," Louis wept against the creatures' living bones.

"Stop crying," the monster rasped, "Must you always snivel?"

"Lestat, you're alive," Louis cried out horrified.

"Do you call this being alive!" Lestat shirked, his bones rattling and tapping against what remained of his soaking wet clothing.

"You're alive," Louis whispered, embracing him as a lover,. "Drink a little more! I hope it may cure you." Louis kissed the skinless mouth of the creature, licking its flat teeth, and its sharp fangs. His tongue bled into its bony mouth. "I came here because I so desperately wanted for you to be alive."

"Louis, you can help me," Lestat pleaded, "Over and over again I begged you to rescue me! Louis you must help me! Do not fail me again."

"I cannot give you any more blood. Through you deserve to drain me dry. I cannot allow it," Louis wept.

"Please," Lestat cried, his bony claws pulling at Louis' day shirt.

Louis almost backed away, the thing was undoing his breeches. The monster was a horror. A freak crawled out of the watery grave. He shivered in terror. The cold breeze gave glancing touches to his naked hips and thighs. Gently, the creature he knew to be Lestat bit into the artery of his inner thigh.

Gasping with a sensation of awe which penetrated through his brain like a lethal caress, Louis luxuriated as his blood rapidly spilled and spilled into Lestat. Louis' hand caressed the skull. To his
amazement blond hair stared to erupted. First as fuzz then it became long and falling luxurious stands from a developing scalp, skin slowly formed and stretched out over the bones forming a face with a missing nose.

Moaning, Louis ejaculated in the reborn born hair, crying out loud in pleasure, he dropped to the ground.

"See me, what my daughter had done to me? To us?" Lestat whispered.

"I see," Louis said weakly, taking the still skeletal hand of Lestat, "I cannot stay with you. You wanted me to be a slave Your wish came true. I am her slave. I cannot leave her. She will not last a night without my protection."

Lestat's face was lined with scars, the barely reformed flesh seemed to be molting on his face. His nose was still missing.

An alligator slid into the water, Lestat dived under, catching, crushing the great reptile with his strong embrace. Greedily, he drank from the dying animal. Lestat's head bobbed up out of the
water, "I need more blood Louis. You must get me more blood. Human blood."

"Lestat, you must stay away from her. From us, If you ever come near us, I will taker her side. Rightfully or wrongly I will protect her to the death. We are responsible for her creation you and I will can not undo what we have done to her. This has to be good bye!"

"You're next. She'll do away with you next. Louis she's mad, perhaps even influenced by another. Louis, I heard you. You said you loved me."

"It doesn't matter what I said. It can never matter! Not where she is concerned. I lied. I was feeling guilty, troubled when I said I loved you. I don't love you, Lestat. I never loved you. Why do you think I wanted to leave you in the first place? Before Claduia was even born. There it is finally said out loud for you to hear. I don't love you," Louis said mustering up as much hostility and coldness as he could to be in his voice.

"You can't you leave me alone like this. Don't leave me here! Louis!" he screamed. his gaping eyes watching Louis disappear into the night. Lestat screamed till he thought there was no one to
hear him He crawled up on to the mud of the shore, cursing his fledglings. He lifted his head, someone was calling for him. "I'm here," he yelled.

"Lestat," Jean said soothingly. He went to him taking his lover's weeping injured body in his arms. He stifled his scream at the sight of Lestat's face, and body. He steeled himself to comfort his
destroyed angel.

"I need, I need," Lestat gasped, not daring to beg his mortal lover to bring victims to him. "I need you."

You have me," Stephen said, cutting with a knife both his wrists, putting them to Lestat's lips, "I found a note slid under my door. It told me everything. I came here right after I read it. It said
you've been murdered."

"Louis' handwriting," Lestat said wearily reading the note.

"It was kind of him to want me to know," Stephen said rocking Lestat in his arms, "Or he may have felt you would kill me in the state you're in. It doesn't matter. You're wet. You're shivering so hard you might fall apart. Let me take you to where you'll be warm." Lestat bit his tongue, bleeding his blood into Stephen's wounded wrists so he would not die of blood loss. Stephen gasped at the prick of fangs at his throat. Like a mother with a child he let Lestat feed off of him.

Drawing his mouth away, his mouth dripping with blood, Lestat said, "He couldn't believe I had died. He wants me to stay away. He's a damned fool. The two of them both. Spy on them for me. Make sure they are all right. They mustn't leave New Orleans. If they try I must stop them. There is a vampire who may be seeking revenge on me. Using them as puppets. Ah, Claudia, Louis, both ever the slaves to some poor fool of a master," Lestat said spitefully.

Lestat's skeletal body got up behind Stephen on his horse. The horse struggled with Stephen, trying to buck them both off. The animal did not want the unclean smell of death on its back. It whinnied in anger and disgust. Stephen finally subdued the animal's fear of the injured vampire. The wind seemed to howl right through Lestat. He felt more like a ghost than a vampire, the very idea caused him to loudly laugh along with the laughter of the wind. He clutched on to Stephen, Louis words keening in his ears; I don't love you. But you do, Lestat thought to himself, I know you do.

Three weeks after he was rescued, Lestat waited with his body pressed into a large stuffed chair for Stephen to return home.

"You visited them," Lestat asked

"Oui," Stephen said. He went to his piano, his strong fingers pounding on the keys. He then shifted into a melody which hit the shores of Lestat's brooding thoughts.

"Are they well then?" he asked, wishing he could drown the love he still had for them in his mortal lover's music.

They are leaving Lestat. I saw their luggage. She is trying to put up a front of happiness. I feel she is aggrieved out of stress. He is trying for her sake to put up an outward facade of strength.
Inside, I sense, he is feeling lost and panicked.

"He cannot leave. She'll be the death of him!" Lestat snarled, angrily pacing the room, "I will not have it. Curse you Claudia you bitch,"

"Lestat, please let them go, if that is what they want."

"Never, You must help me to stop them," Lestat implored him, "Would you give me everything of yourself?"

"No, not everything. Not my life," Stephen whispered.

"How little!" Lestat said, taking him in his arms, seducing Stephen with his terrible need to be understood, "How little you love me, how little you trust me with what is most meaningful to me and to you. You're life. Once the act is done between us, the curtain shall not fall. Kiss me, my beloved, and trust me. I will introduce you to new music."

Stephen's lips pared for him, submissively, he allowed Lestat to undress him till he stood before him naked. With each removal of clothing; his flesh received a dazzling bite till he was bleeding
profusely onto Lestat.

Stripping himself, Lestat ceased his frantic little bites, he gave Stephen the fatal deep bite. He focused on the pounding within Stephen's beating heart, ignoring the passionate screaming notes of music in Stephen's soul. A physical orgasm rocked Stephen's body, his ejaculation joined Lestat's ejaculation. First, Stephen felt as if his heart would be pulled right out of his chest as he was being drained. Panting, Stephen's body dimmed to vision, touch, noise, and sound; the only sensation he felt was taste. The taste of vampire blood flowing freely down into his throat..

Lestat carried him to the bedroom, laying his feeble limbs underneath the covers.

"I'm cold! More cold than you have ever made me feel! What have you done to me? My hands," the dying musician cried, "They will not move as they once did. My hands! Lestat, they are stiff with death."

"My blood is weak. Fear not for your hands. I will enlist the blood of a stronger vampire to cure your hands and to cure myself. First we must gather up our coven."

"Do you mean to kill her?"

"Non, not yet, perhaps not ever. Not till I discover if she has any regrets. I can not shelter a creature who knows not where her best interests lie," Lestat said, his scared face smiling, his fangs glittering, "I love her too much just to kill her with no words between us first."

Tenderly, Lestat wiped Stephen's face, attending to his dying body till nothing remained on the bed only human waste and a shimmering fledging. Taking Stephen out for his first kill, he wished he had time to worry about Stephen's physical weakness. All he desired was Claudia weeping for forgiveness on her knees, or an unrepenting Claudia dead at his feet.

Breaking into Rue Royal the two of them cornered Claudia and Louis.

"I told you to stay away from us!" Louis hissed.

"Listen to reason. For once in your life!" Lestat snarled at Louis.

(12)

"Reason? What kind of reason can a monstrosity like you have! Claudia told me, she told me everything! The threats! The abuse she has put up with for years from you," Louis yelled. "How could I have been so blind!"

"The what!" Lestat yelled back.

"It's true! Tell him the truth! Didn't you strip me naked! Didn't you!" she accused. "Didn't you taunt me!"

"Claudia!" Lestat screamed his face becoming ugly with resentment and shame, "Don't believe her. She's telling lies! Half truths! Oui, I taunted you because I was angry with you."

"You killed Jean's father to punish me for falling in love with Jean," she ranted.

"Please, it's not true," Stephen cried, trying to catch her before she stormed out of the room.

Turning her full fury on him, Claudia grabbed a poker stick, slamming it into the newly born vampire's skull.

"Non, you devil! I'll kill you," Lestat yelled throwing himself at her.

Blood seeped out of Stephen's head.

Pulling Lestat off of Claudia, Louis savagely kicked Lestat, pounding him mercilessly with his fists, biting at his hands, when Lestat tried tried to hold him down. Lestat threw him off. Snarling, Lestat ran for Claudia, his eyes red with rage.

Cursing, Louis threw a lantern. Stepping back in terror, Louis screamed, "Nooo!" The flames caught the scent of Stephen's blood on the floor, consuming it like it was kerosene. Relentlessly, the flames swarmed up upon Lestat

"You believed her!" Lestat screamed, his tears turning into flames.

"Lestat, my God I had to believe her. Who else does she have to believe her!" Louis wept "You should have stayed away. I begged you to stay away!"

"The child, she's on fire, too!" Stephen yelled.

Claudia danced about. An imp in hell, her taffeta dress hot with flames.

"Take her to safety, Louis," Stephen yelled. Louis hesitated, torn between Claudia and Lestat. "Do it now, Louis there isn't much time!" Stephen yelled. They exchanged a look, in a second, with his eyes, Stephen pleaded with Louis to trust him. Louis ran Claudia to safety. Stephen hurried to Lestat. With all the strength he possessed, he pushed Lestat out the window into the pelting rain.
Lestat landed in the mud his skin hissing under the rain drops. "Jump," Lestat yelled at Stephen. Flames captured Stephen's frail body.

Screaming. Stephen fell backwards into the oven of a room, his agonized screams tore at the air and rain, outside. The flames made him jerk about as if he were in a epileptic fit.

Lestat leaped into the air to pull Stephen to safety. Rue Royal exploded in a whoosh of fire from the escaping gas. Flying backwards from the explosion, Lestat fell like a comet. Hitting his head on a rock. The world became black.

He woke up in a grave. His body instinctively had dug a grave even while he was knocked out cold. Frantically, digging himself out, he ran to Rue Royal, calling Stephen's name. There on what remained of the couch was the cinder and ashes of Stephen

Horrified, Lestat wept, his tears fell on the vampire's corpse's face making it appear as if it too were weeping blood tears.

"You've always been such a liar, you've always been such a liar," Lestat said sobbed, "you told me you loved your music, you loved yourself more than me. You lied. You loved me more. Why didn't I know this about you? Why didn't you tell me? Because I was in love with Louis? You felt it wouldn't matter to me? You saved a monster like me. Why? I should have ran away with you. I should have let them meet their doom. I love you! Do you hear me! I love you!" His hand went right through the ashes.

"So, Claudia," he raved. throwing the ashes about, "Is this a debate between us? Oui, a death of a lover for the death of a lover. You, my child, you do not get the last word!"

Curling up into a ball, crying tears of grief, his body was raw and oozing with burning wounds, he whispered "This was not your fault, Louis. It my fault. I created her. Now, I will destroy her."

"And what makes you think I would let you?" Armand said, standing over Lestat "My, it does seem those who insist on breaking the rules come to a sad end? Does it not?"

"Leave me alone! You bastard! Come to laugh at me? Then laugh!"

"What a way to speak to me, your old friend," he smiled, kicking Lestat square in the face, "I believe I will have the last word here, Lestat."

"Stop! Are you insane?" Lestat begged, the ache on his face was no match against the pain he felt missing Stephen. "Let me grieve for him in peace. Leave me alone to my revenge. This has nothing to do with you."

"Revenge? I have a little revenge I want to collect on too. Am I insane? Oui, insane over you, lover," Armand cooed, throwing his fist right into Lestat's throat. Caressing the bruise, Armand latched himself on the purpling, red flesh, tearing ruthlessly at the burned rags on Lestat's body.

Laughing, he scraped his nails on Lestat's hide, leaving bright bleeding marks, "Remember how you beat me? I should put my cock in your smoldering, sumptuous ass while I suck you almost to the husk of a man you always were."

You are not animal enough for that, my angel," Lestat yelled, scratching at Armand's amber eyes.

"You are not interesting enough, "Armand said cloyingly, "Defeated, wretched, injured! By a little girl no less. All of this makes you to be rather insignificant. Where is the wolf killer, the gaudy one
in his ridiculous red cape? Non, Lestat you have blood on your hands, the blood of my coven. They would still be alive today if you haven't have ended our way of life."

"Hypocrite. You didn't have to kill them," Lestat yelled in pain as he was lifted up by his arms, Laurent and Santiago dragged a naked Lestat away. They followed Armand with preternatural speed to a ship. Armand ordered them to lock Lestat in a coffin.

"Please, I need your friendship, your blood, not your anger against me," Lestat cursed, scratching on the lid.

"You need what!" Throwing the coffin lid open, Armand laughed, "Only you would make demands on me to be your friend, Lestat," he said, "what do you want me to do as your friend?"

"Help me, cure me, give me back Louis. Then join us, we three could be a coven," Lestat boldly offered.

Ah, you liar, Armand thought bitterly, Him you would never share with me. And I do not want to share you with anyone.

"Ransom, I require a ransom before I set you free. A small one. Very small, I want the girl. I'm entitled to the girl. She was never meant to be one of us," Armand said gently, "Look at what she has done to you. You've been punished enough for your crimes. Come out of the coffin Lestat. Join me." Armand lifted the lid so Lestat could sit up.

"The blood," Lestat said, touching Armand's wrist.

"Is yours, after she dies. After a trail if you will."

"Louis."

"Louis' fate in entangled with yours. If he lives then so will you," Armand said, "And if he dies."

"So will I?" Lestat said flatly, "What do you want?"

"An understanding between us that's all," Armand said playing with Lestat's blustered chest. Lestat winced at he touch. Armand's hand felt as cold as cream on his hot, bothered flesh. The paleness of Armand's hands cauterized his burns.

"Not till you give me the blood will we reach an understanding between us us," Lestat said coldly, ignoring the pleasure Armand's touch was giving him,

"Dine on this then" Armand laughed, throwing a rat into the coffin, slamming down the lid on Lestat.

Opening the lid after the rat was done with its squealing, Armand said, "How was dinner?"

"It will do for now," Lestat said frostily, throwing the rat out, climbing out of the coffin,

Armand jumped away. He laid himself out on his bed, "We will have to share this room. You and I."

Laurent, a radiant vampire who shed his mortal self at sixteen smiled respectfully at Lestat. "Do you remember me?" he asked Lestat, "At the catacombs. Do you remember I begged Armand to kill you and Gabrielle. He would not."

"Silence, Laurent. This time I may well kill him," Armand said coldly.

Santiago leered insolently at Lestat.. Lestat leered right back. Santiago marveled at the injured, naked vampire standing insolently before them.

You are an ugly vision from hell, a beast, your face and body in burned tatters, and yet here you as lording it over us as if you had us in your power, Santiago thought, knowing full well now why Armand referred to Lestat as being royalty.

"We're your kind Lestat," Armand said, "There is no need to hate us. We do not hate you." he reached his hands out to Lestat to have him join him under the covers.

"So, it always comes to this doesn't it?' Lestat said, desiring the slender boy's blood flowing through the ravishing flesh Armand was forever entombed in. Armand looked as seductive as any high class whore. Only he wasn't a slut. Armand rarely fell in love, or even in lust. Lestat knew the imp's affections were exclusive to him alone, so much so that what Armand felt for him caused Armand exquisite pain and longing.

"Look at you with your servants worshipping you. I'm Lestat, Prince of Brats, some fools say. I say I'm the Prince of Pride. My pride cannot find a place in your bed. Submission is not to be found in me."

"Not even for him, your fledgling? Bind yourself to my will. I will even put you back on the stage."

"Where you torture mortals and immortals alike with your twisted fancies? Non, give me Louis take Claudia," Lestat said with a rawness in his voice, "And we shall part friends,"

"Play a game of cards with me then my friend," Armand said pleasantly holding a stacked deck, "I sympathize with you my dear Lestat more and more, I do adore you. And this adoration of you leaves me with no choice but to help you. I know how it feels to lose one's family. More than once it has happened to me. I could not resist frightening you. I will return Louis to you. We will part friends and Claudia, well Claudia must die. She did after all try to kill her maker. We can't have that go unpunished, We will kill her for you. Not you. Your compassion for her will cause you to bumble the job!"

"Why do you say these words to me?"

Because Lestat love and hate. They are two strong emotions. Love for you my brother always out weighs the hate I feel for you. Now, you need help. Do you not? Do you have anyone else to go to besides me?"

"Non," Lestat said sitting on the bed.

"Then we are allies," Armand said. Grinning at Lestat, he slipped under the covers. Soon he tossed out his elegant, brown French coat, his breeches, and his shirt till he was naked under the blanket. Laurent dutifully picked up his clothes from the floor.

"Let me grieve for him," Lestat said in a hushed voice.

"Which him are we talking about?" Armand said his eyes as cold as ice water.

"Him."

"If you mean dear Stephen, don't be an ass. You would have lost interest in him without his music. If his hands never again could play the same notes you would have abandoned him."

"You are so very wrong about what I loved about him."

"Your love for another will always be polluted by your desire for Louis," Armand said, tossing his head, "I don't mind too terribly. Are we partners then?"

"Oui," Lestat said taking a card, knowing he had no choice. Santiago and Laurent left. Breathlessly, Lestat let Armand kiss him. His kisses felt more devouring than the flames.. He tried to imagine he was kissing Stephen, instead he kept thinking of Louis, with his emerald eyes half closed, murmuring the delightful endearments Armand was really whispering in his ear. His burned body stretched against his bones. Armand's hands moved against his aching flesh. Pressing his hard cock into Armand's hips, he rocked his swollen member inside the young boy's body. Armand clasped his hips with his long legs, making Lestat push harder and deeper inside of him. Pressed against his back, burying his face in Armand's curly hair, Lestat gave him practiced kisses on his face, rubbing his nipples with his skillful hands, lowering his hands to play with his sensitive cock. Armand undulated forward and backwards, letting Lestat work his cock with his
smooth hands. He was trapped between his hands, and his cock . With a shuddering moan, Armand ejaculated in Lestat's hand making it wet and sticky. Lestat ejaculated inside of Armand's quivering, arching body.

"Stephen," Lestat whispered, laying back on the bed.

I remember the night, the last night, I spent with him before my injuries. Stephen was playing his newest composition. He hurried to me, asking me if he liked it. His eyes earnestly searching my face to see if my words of praise were true. And my words were true, Lestat thought, I was again enraptured and enchanted. Stephen threw on his cloak, he was wearing one of his designs, it was green, damn me, I thought it would suit Louis better.

We went to a sidewalk cafe. Over the smells of horses and sewer, I could smell the scent of whip cream and tart backed apples from the crepe he was eating. He was laughing and talking, telling me how the cream tasted bland and sweet at the same time, ah what a contrast to the green apples. He then sipped on hazel nut liquor. His breath close to mine, smelling of hazel nuts, tasting of laughter. My God. We went to a tavern to party with his friends, our friends now. Bernard put on a velvet hat with an absurd feather on it. He was playing the role of Lelio, a role I once played. He teased Stephen into getting into a woman's skirt. Then he pretended to seduce him. It was hilarious He pounced on my lover, this heterosexual man, laughing, pretending to be making mad passionate love to him. Stephen legs were up in the air. Stout Bernard's body thrusting between his legs. Stephen grinned at me, he started to go, oh, oh, ohhh, and he was matching Bernard thrust for thrust. No arousal between them. Ah, I was so aroused. After it was over, I dragged Stephen outside. I was barely polite to our friends, they all understood.

We rolled on the ground. We hit against a tree. I hiked up his skirt, undoing his breeches, I barely remembered to lube him with blood. My cock was bone hard, so was his. I entered into him, quick with no tenderness. I fucked him. Playing with his pectoral muscles, his perfect taunt brown nipples, his perfect mouth smelling of wine and hazel nuts. My pubic hair was up against his ass as I thrust in and out of his tight chute. His mouth beautiful with movement and kisses. I couldn't get enough of his voice, his body, the music within him. After I deposited my seed in him, so much seed, I swear if he were a woman and I a man, he would be pregnant with twins. He then took my cock into his mouth, to the hilt, licking swirling his tongue around it, sucking it hard, cradling my balls. I thrust my fingers into his hot hole, he gasped with my cock in his mouth. I knew I hit the
pleasure spot inside of him. I stroked it as he gave me head, his head bobbing up and down. He ejaculated on my leg. I ejaculated once again inside of him. I never felt I owned a man as much as I owned him. When it was over, I caressed his face and lips with the silk gloves I was still wearing. I murmured to him, I love you. I love you. He said, I love you too. He told me I was hot in bed. Then he laughed. Telling me to get off of him because I was crushing him. I only shifted my weight. I didn't want to let him go. It all seemed so permanent. That night. The tree we hit was a peach tree. There were peach blossoms on his face, in his hair. He was bathed with sweat, moonlight, and starlight. I decided a commitment with him would burn the angry itch in my crotch for Louis, because I did love him. I did.

After Claduia, I was bitter. I convinced myself I couldn't trust Stephen or anyone else. I didn't want to touch him till my body and face healed, through I knew he wanted to make love to me, I couldn't. I didn't make him out of the love I had and still have for him. I made him to help me hurt Claudia.

"Stephen" Lestat said sadly, "forgive me."

"Non, Lestat, Stephen is dead. It is me in bed with you. I will have to do," Armand said, smiling at him.

Lestat with lizard like swiftness went for his wrist.

"No blood," Armand gasped, as Lestat tried to bite him, "Not until we both get what we want."

Once in Paris, Lestat was thrown into a hole, with nothing but the poisonous food of corpses to dine on, not even rats were allowed him.

"His spirit will break," Armand voice rang out under Lestat's screams of tormenting, torturous hunger, "He'll be driven near enough to insanity where I can compel him to testify against Claudia to save his Louis from the fate he is enjoying now."

"A vampire on trail with a mortal audience watching. You're a genius," Santiago said, This will be your masterpiece."

"You speak the truth," Armand said smiling pleasantly, "It will be my masterpiece,"

"Why torture him through?" Santiago said puzzled, through he did so enjoy listening to Lestat suffer, "He agreed you could have Claudia,"

"I do not trust him not to change his mind," Armand said , "I could tell from his thoughts he was too weak to shield from me, he still loves her. At the very last minute, he will end up trying to rescue her. Non, it's better this way, Every night I crack into his mind and I force him to relive the night Stephen died. The guilt alone will cause him to demand we put Claudia's head on a platter. And once she's dead. Ah, the hate he will have of himself. Revenge for Stephen cannot be sweet for him. He will forever weep for both Claudia and Stephen. He should have loved me as I demanded of him, and none of this would have happened. Non, Lestat you deserve to suffer for not falling into my trap. You always made me be responsible for your mistakes, Louis, Claudia, and Nicky. Now let me take responsibility for the biggest mistake I ever made. Being in love with a fool like you! Once she and Louis are dead my revenge and justice will prevail Lestat will not only be testifying against Claudia, his words will be an indictment against himself. He's nothing but a rabbit of a vampire, humping around, making one pathetic offspring after another. Let us hear in his own voice what a failure he is as a maker."

"Listen, he's stopped his caterwauling. Now he is humming that tune he likes to hum when he can not stand to scream anymore," Santiago said.

"Do you like it?"

"I've never been one for music, but this tune." Santiago said, starting to wave his finger about like a conductor.

"Write down the notes. Write me a play. We will use the music for a play. Write me a play about a vampire who loves music till he finds out the music does not love him back," Armand said smiling a winsome smile. "Write it, if you please."

"What is the music called?"

"Stephen's music? I do not know if he named this piece. I will call it: Put to rest"

(13)

"The two of them have made it to Paris then," Armand said dryly, standing on the latch door of Lestat's underground cell.

"Oui, they are a pretty pair to watch. Colorful in their fashionable human garb. She is as pretty as a bebe doll. He as ravishing as a sin."

"Execute him."

"With pleasure," Santiago said, towering over Armand. He almost laughed out loud with anticipation at the fun he would have with the elegant slender vampire before he set him on fire. Those thighs, those eyes, pure cream to the greedy cat.

Armand, Santiago thought, may be pretty in his boyish ways, but ah, Louis has the full bloom of a young man. Never have I seen such a sensual, yet guileless face.

Armand watched Santiago slip out. Fully aware of what Santiago had mind for Louis. He wondered if he should join in on Santiago's fun.

Collapsing on top of the door, a single red tear fell down his white face. Lestat, you have no idea what true evil is. The responsibility it takes to exist in this damnable world. The length one has to go to through to live in peace. Would you have us hunted down as the rogue vampire race is being hunted down by mortals in Romania? Lucky for us they think they are hunting down insane mortals. The vampire Germanic line is dying out from the blunders they have made. Many of them are born revenants because they did not follow the rules to keep their race's blood strong. You know Claudia, Nicky, and Louis would have to perish if they proved to be lacking. I, the coven master, the protector of our breed, I have no choice. You have no choice but to hate me. "

So, hate me, damn you," Armand whispered rebelliously, "I will give you just reason to hate me by my cruelty to you. What else did you ever have to offer me in the end, but your contempt for what I felt I must do?"

The next night, holding a dagger in her hand, Claudia stole to her father's coffin. Throwing off the lid, she sent the blade plunging down.

Thrusting his hand up, Louis stopped the dagger's descent. Twisting it out of her hand, he threw it across the room.

Laughing, her hand muffled her laughter.

"Never do that again," Louis said coldly.

"I wasn't gong to hurt you," Claudia said gaily, "I just wanted to remind you to be on guard."

"I need no such reminders," Louis said grimly, emerging from his coffin. "You have a taste for sharp objects, n'est-ce-pas?" he said dryly.

"Never mind," Claudia colored, "Don't you like to live your life tensely?" For a moment she remembered Jean asking her the same question. "Tell me again in every minute detail what happened last night." Claudia played nervously with her slash tied around her waist.

"I was being followed. I was set upon by a vampire. He attacked me. Another one stopped him, from, from." Louis stopped, nausea over took him as he remembered how he after he tried his best to fight the vampire off, he was falling into unconsciousness. The vampire's breath was cold and brutal on his throat. His attacker's tongue was licking his throat, then along his jaw. The vampire's long gloved hands fumbled between his legs, squeezing him till he whimpered in agony. "He was determined to kill me when the other one stopped him," Louis siad coldly.

"The other, Armand!" Claudia breathed, "The master of the theatre of vampires."

Claudia went to her desk, her face went from exhalation to cold indifference. She deserted Louis to his loneliness. Caring nothing at all for him, she convinced herself over and over again.

She wrote:

My dearest Armand:

I love you so much! I love you differently than how I loved Jean. Jean was of the past. A product of my failure. You! When I think of you, I think of doors opening. A future of possibilities.

I could not live with Lestat, nor can I live with Louis. Please understand You are right children leave their parents. What other choice did I have? I was not attracted to either of them. I felt as
long as they were alive I would be frozen in time. Somehow welded to their continuing nightmare. And it was a nightmare, Fighting, resistance, all they did nightly was avoid their feelings for each
other, thrusting me in the middle. Always forcing me to take sides. making me feel guilty for whatever I did. All the love they should have given to each other, they lashed out with that love upon me, using love as a weapon. It was pride which kept Lestat from Louis' bed. Anger at having to to force Louis to stay with him by creating me. This pride made him vicious, mocking to the one he loved most of all. And Louis in return punished Lestat with his sorrow, guilt, and weaknesses.

Suffer, even underneath their rare occasions of laughter, hurting each other was all they spent their so called immortality on. A waste. I could not live this way forever. In vain, there was no escape for me with Jean, no escape after Jean died, till you, Armand, you tossed me the keys.

Kill him. Kill Louis. For it is a kindness you would be performing. I never thought he would miss Lestat so much. So much! He talks to me, but his dreams are all about Lestat. So be it, let him join his lover in the grave. As it should be for his sake. Beloved, once they are dead, my childhood is over. And I can start my life anew leaving my past with its numerous mistakes behind me. I have searched for you where I thought vampires existed. Nothing, I found nothing but imbeciles. Now I am here, frightened. nervous, and over overjoyed!! Why did you lie to me? Why? Lestat did not die till Louis himself killed him by setting him on fire. Love me, don't lie to me, you're my only hope. Only you.

Through we are not! Sometimes Louis and I seem like we are lovers. Just out of pure loneliness we both feel. And when I feel the attention we pay to each other is going too far. I'm cold to him
And he becomes dire and sad. He thinks I am angry with him, because I want to go further than the innocent kisses he gives me. He's unaware his kisses on my cheek feel carnal to me. He's wrong about why I am cold towards him, I'm too embarrassed to tell him that he is wrong. I do not want him. I only want you.

Your lover, Claudia

I only want you, Claudia thought to herself. A shudder went through her, she pictured Jean sitting on the grass with her.

"I only want you, Jean," she whispered. "I can not have you. Can I? This is foolishness. I cannot look back. It is Armand I love."

Angry and embarrassed at her weakness for remembering Jean, she crumbled the letter, tossing it in the fire place, taking up Armand's card, she ran out of the townhouse, Louis following her imploring her to wait.

They mingeld in the crowd of mortals, Claudia refused to take Louis' hand. Louis took a program from Santiago. Santiago reached out and tickled him under the chin.

Hissing with fury, Louis quickly slammed his fist into his face.

Smirking, Santiago touched the blood on his lip, licking the liquid off his finger. "Beautiful slave. You've been an immortal untouched far too long."

A child of twelve stood at Santiago's side. A mortal child. Roughly, Santiago caressed the boy. Armand joined them, laughing, bending down, kissing the boy's throat. "This little prize is Denis.
A drink perhaps Louis? Take a drink from him. I have much to offer you. The both of you."

Claudia watched amazed, disturbed as her father bit into the boy's wrist. The child whimpered, seduced, drugged by the pain. Armand caught Denis before he fell. Claudia noticed Armand didn't offer her the boy's wrist.

"This way," Denis said jauntily, leading them to their seats. He was dark haired, gypsy child beautiful. His clothes were very fine. "I'll lead you to where the best place is to view the show."

They took their seats. Watching the nude mortal woman being mentally tortured, and physically tormented on the stage. The lust Louis felt for the gang bang of feeding vampires on the screaming girl was surpassed by the longing her felt for the masterful Armand on the stage. Armand now caressing the dead woman's corpse.

It's not love, it's not even near love, Louis assured himself, I need him. To belong to him. To be held by another. I have no hope with Claudia for any type of real life. Children grow up, then their
parents they find a new life, with new people to love, Louis blushed at his horrible, rebellious thoughts, reminding himself Claudia was his life,

Armand watched Louis from the stage, enamored, bewitched, I can see why he loves you. You're beautiful. His smiled deepened and became a smile of sarcasm. You're nothing but a night animal like myself. I will bed you. Then destroy you.

Claudia and Louis went back stage. All the vampire actors are the dancers in my dream, she thought to herself, But they are all hostile to me, or indifferent. As indifferent and as bored with me as Armand is. Is he angry with me for Louis still being alive?

"Such a beautiful dress of yellow, cherie," Celeste, an actress all in black, said smirking, "Ah, cherie, the color it burns my eyes, it is so bright."

Claudia was tempted to step back and lean against Louis for comfort. Courageously, she made herself take a stand, "Merci, ma fair Mademoiselle Crow. And your sleek dress of black blends quite well with the evening. I would not notice you if you did not happen to talk to me."

I killed my family for nothing, Claudia thought dismayed, as she watched Celeste's smirk become an expression of dislike.

Before they left the theatre, Armand whispered to Louis, "Meet me here tonight," He said it loud enough for Claudia to hear. He made a cutting motion against his throat while Louis wasn't looking.

You mean to kill him tonight, Claudia thought a chill possessing her.

"I would like to kill them all," Claudia said angrily to her father as they left, her little hands folded into fists, "I would like to start with him, that damnable smart ass, Armand. I would love to suck him dry and have his powers, I would love for them to be afraid of me. I would love to rule over them with a tyrant's anger."

"Claudia," Louis said shocked, "You mustn't say such things." Then he coldly said, "Haven't you killed enough?"

Ah, if only you knew Armand. Father, if you only knew, Claudia thought, unable to confess to Louis what a fool she had been. She felt torn, thinking, There must be a reason for Armand's show of indifference. I know he loves me. Once Louis is dead, I will know the truth about how he feels about me. If he doesn't love me, I will just die!

That night the naked boy Denis was stretched out upon the bed. Armand bit into the child's abdomen, blood seeped out from out of the wound making the boy's stomach sticky and rosy. His slender boy's body had the oil of orange blossoms rubbed into its flesh, his bloody thighs smelled of orange blossoms and blood. The more Denis sweated the more he smelled of flowers, as if he were a scented candle melting between the two vampires. Gently, Denis caressed Armand's hair. Denis hummed a Stephen's tune to himself. He gasped intermittently as Armand sucked. Armand rolled him over to be abandoned in to the arms of Santiago. Santiago caressed the bleeding boy's lacerated limbs, rubbing and stroking his small brown nipples, sliding his hand on the child's erect small cock.

Hooking his pinkie finger between the boy's ass crack, Armand moved his finger up and down, pressing it inward. Driving his fangs into the boy's chest. Santiago drank little drinks. The child's legs wrapped themselves around Santiago's slender nude pelvis.

"Join us Louis," Armand sighed, "He's delicious."

Louis stood stuffily by the bed, "I'm leaving," he said coldly.

"Don't leave. I have news of you, of yourself, and Claudia too," Armand said taking back Denis to fall back into his arms, "Take a small drink with me," he coaxed.

Louis shook his head, "This is too simple for me. I need complexity." Louis turned away.

"Then I leave the boy with you," Armand said imperiously, "Mortals are complex."

Raising from the bed, dragging a lazy Santiago along with him, all the dream aspects left the room along with the two vampires. And there on the bed was a very earthy mortal smiling at Louis.

Louis cut into his own wrist, he knew his blood couldn't cause any more damage to the injured. addicted boy than what had already been done to him, Putting his bleeding arm to Denis' wounds, he closed the flesh to heal.

"Why the devil do you care?" Armand said curiously, spying though the key hole of the closed door. He watched Louis tenderly hold the child. Louis let the mortal boy taste from his wrist, not out of lust, but out of compassion. Louis knew the child was in pain, desiring to be fed blood, only to later fall into more pain again and again, helplessly drawn to vampire blood, helpless to hunt for it on his own. The only way he could attain it was to allow himself to be used by any vampire in the theatre who desired his mortal warm flesh, and mortal taste.

Denis drew himself up. A resentful, rebellious dignity on his face. It all crumbled away into a child's ' wishful shyness as he whispered, "This isn't all I do for my master. You know? I clean the theatre during the day. Sometimes, I paint the backdrops. I painted the one you saw last night. Did you like it? Did I use enough black? That seems to be their favorite color," the boy laughed.

"Oui," Louis said, feeling shocked that the child could still make a joke. It made him more aware he was addressing a human child. "Oui. Yet, is there enough darkness in all the world for them?"
Louis said seriously, "It was enough black for me."

A tray of food was on the bed stand, Louis stomach turned. The steak, the fried potatoes, even the dressing on the greens were dyed red with food color. All of the food lie cold in a puddle of red.

"I'm going to be like you some day," Denis said dreamily. His creamy flesh was brazenly glamorous against the black bedspread.

Evil, you're going to be an actor on the stage, laughing at mortals you're destroying, Louis thought his deep set eyes were troubled. Have I made things too complicated. Have I? Is this all the meaning life holds for a creature like myself? This brand of brutality. Have I been lying to myself with my mortals ways, and my mortal conscience?"

Hesitating, Louis said, "The woman murdered on the stage. Did you like watching her die?"

Denis eyes grew large and ashamed, "Non," he confessed, "Forgive me for being a weakling."
He closed his eyes tightly as if he wanted to banish the memory of her dying, then he opened his eyes, staring steadily at Louis, "I felt sorry for her. When I'm a vampire like you, I will have no
feelings for mortals. I will enjoy killing a woman just as well as you, just as well as anyone else."

Denis coughed, falling back on the pillows. Louis felt both sympathy for him, and distance from him.

Cutting the steak, Louis speared a piece of meat, "Here, let me feed you. You're tired," Louis said, holding the fork to the boy's lips.

Amazed, the boy gingerly bit the meat. He swallowed it in a quick gulp, taking another piece when Louis offered it up.

"Take a drink, drink it slowly," Louis commanded, holding the wine glass to Denis.

Obediently, Denis drank. "But monsieur, the wine the food," he confessed, "None of it has any more taste for me non, not any more. I'm fed to be kept alive until they kill me. I can't wait till they kill me monsieur. Finally. I will make a good vampire. You will see."

Denis tried not to, but he surrendered to sighing on Louis' chest. His mouth hiccuping with wine and blood. He was hungry, almost more hungry for the kindness he was being offered than for Louis' fragrant blood. Louis wrapped the blanket around Denis' nudity. Nudity which was bedeviled by the puncture wounds of many vampire bites.

(14)

"He has an almost human heart, just like that damn fool cousin of mine, Henri has. Damn Louis. He has the beauty to complement the beauty inside of him, Armand thought awed, falling fatally for Louis' spell. Love him. I want to love an angel like that, Armand thought greedily.

"What do you see?" Santiago laughed, "What is he doing to our boy?"

"Get away!" Armand screamed, irritated, slapping Santiago hard in the face.

Louis is right, he thought, Santiago is a buffoon. They all are buffoons.

Armand gritted his teeth, sick to death of his coven. I can arrange for the deaths of many, he thought coldly, watching Louis and Denis through the key hole. And I have the weapon to do it with. Louis is strong enough to rid these walls of the rot which lives undead here. He can be made to be desperate enough so he will be easy to manipulate.

Smiling at Santiago, Armand whispered, "Charming. Isn't he?"

Slipping on his breeches, putting on his day shirt, he next put on his frock coat. Armand said while pulling up his fine, gray stockings, "Santiago, I would have you go hunting for me. If you please, for as many roses as you can find. For the scenery of tomorrow night's play. Make sure they are long stemmed. I want to whip the woman we have locked in the cell with roses before we kill her. First, we shall caress her with the flowers calling her beautiful, praising her for her good works with the poor. You will seduce her of course," Armand waved his hand about, "I will have you be dressed as a priest. You will do the praising and the flattering, the touching. Then you will beat her with the thorns. Call her a filthy devil who has no redeemable soul. A whip shall be added to
the play too. Would you be a dear and do this for me?"

Santiago knew he had no choice but to go on this wild goose chase. Armand's use of the words "would you" was his polite way of saying: You shall do this, or I shall toast your head. Once Santiago left him in peace, Armand strode into his bedroom, "Denis, be a good lad, and leave Monsieur du Pointe de Lac and I alone to talk."

Denis raised his head from Louis' protective arms. "Oui, master," he said, taking his bundle of clothing alone with him.

"I do not like how you treat him," Louis said coldly, stretched out on the bed.

"Denis? Waste no tears for him my friend, unless you're in the habit of crying for anything and everyone. Denis made his choice to join us. He witnessed me at a kill, and he begged me to bring him on the devil's road. Sweet little Judas, he wants me to teach him to be a killer of men. When he is of age he will be rewarded. As for you. monsieur, you are a fine one to talk about children. Tell me did your Claduia have a choice?"

"Non," Louis spiritedly, "Does any child have a choice when they are brought into this world?"

"Ah, and does she love you for not giving her a choice?" Armand said intimately, sitting on the bed.

"Where are the children?" Louis said briskly.

"The children?" Armand said smiling thinly.

"The children, children made to be vampires just as Claudia was made to be," Louis insisted, "Surely in a coven of this size there has to be children."

"Louis, you have to understand very few of our kind would ever dream of bringing a child over simply because of the moral implications of such a deed."

"Still a mother, or a father who left a child behind, may they not be tempted?"

"Louis, if a child is brought into our world, by law the child is executed."

"What! Why?" Louis said fearing for Claudia, "Did Lestat know?"

"Who is Lestat?" Armand asked with a cat ate the canary smile

"He's, he's," Louis said warily

"He's your maker of course," Armand said, staring at his nails, "Is he still alive, and how did he die if he's not?" He turned tuned his amber owl eyes on Louis

"I know what Santiago hinted at when he attacked me, he's wrong! Neither I nor Claudia killed our maker. It was an accident. Lestat and I had a fight. I threw a lantern at him. I didn't mean to kill him. I don't even know if he is dead or not."

"You believe him to be dead, don't you?"

"Oui, I do," Louis admitted.

"If he wasn't dead he would come after you, Ca Va?"

"Oui," Louis said in a weak voice. "Perhaps he ran off with his fledgling, Stephen. I have no idea what happened to either one of them."

"He is more than likely dead. It's hard to know for sure. Our kind seldom leave a body after death. It is a capital crime to kill your master as Santiago already informed you," Armand said

"Throw me to the wolves, I don't care," Louis said furiously.

"You're a mighty fine wolf yourself. A splendid killer."

"You mock me. I did not murder Lestat!" Louis insisted

"I believe you didn't, and if you did he probably drove you to it," Armand said coolly . "Lestat and I have been friends, very close friends, we've been lovers even before you were created"

"I see," Louis said carefully, feeling like he was being trapped "Did Lestat know about the law concerning children?"

"I doubt it," Armand mused, "Or perhaps he thought he could hide her from our kind for forever. A child can not care for itself. You think my coven to be terrible in how they treat Claudia. They do not want to feel for her. She's marked for death. It is hard for them to feel compassion for her because they know by law she may not live. So they distance themselves form her, make themselves despise her. They make fun of her so they will not feel for her death. They do the same with mortals. Make fun of them, torment them, so when they kill them they will not be weakened with compassion. It's our way Louis. The vampire race has to be strong. We live in a world of humans who could very easily destroy us. We could destroy ourselves if we start to feel compassion for the human race. Lestat may have thought coven laws no longer existed with the dissolution of my coven. He was wrong. These laws have been in place long before my coven of the Children of Darkness was created." Armand said blandly. "All vampire children have to be put to death."

"You will make an exception for Claudia. She is no longer a child. She is an adult in a child's body. The law no longer applies for her," Louis said coldly, watching Armand's hand steal up his calf.

"Do you think that I, Armand, the coven master, is above laws made long before I was even created?" Armand said, his hand reaching up to Louis' thigh. "My coven is scandalized by this child you both brought into darkness. They are ashamed for you both."

"I will take the lead here," Louis said, surprising Armand by pinning him on the bed. Slowly, Louis undid his two top buttons, licking and teasing the Adam's Apple of his youthful throat. Armand's body tingled at the wet touch on his throat. Armand felt amazed. With a wicked flourish, Louis ripped open Armand's shirt. Armand succumbed to his rough, grasping mouth licking and biting at his chest, his tongue teasingly lapping at his nipples, his lips kissing the aroused flesh and giving the small nubs little, biting tugs. He slid his fingers down his flat abdomen, pressing his forefinger inside his tummy button. Sliding his hands all over his exposed chest and stomach. Louis reached down between his legs, touching his arousal with a firm, forceful hand. Pulling down Armand's breeches, he turned him to be face down on the bed, he fingered, caressed, and smacked Armand's ass. The sight of red welts spreading on Armand's pale undead flesh gave Louis a nasty thrill which he hated himself for having. Armand wiggled, "Frig me, take your hand and stimulate my cock, and slap my ass while you're going it, "Armand breathed lustfully.

"What are you doing?" Armand almost wailed as Louis got of the bed.

"I am going to Claudia of course," Louis said, "You can make an exception."

"I will see what I can do," Armand said trying to sound as official as he could while being partially nude on the bed, his ass burning with delicious pain, knowing he could do nothing for her.

"Oui, you do that. I am not repelled by you Armand. I feel I can learn from you," Louis said, pulling Armand's hair, kissing his ready mouth. Releasing him to fall back on the bed, Louis said, "I wish to be engulfed into what a vampire's nature truly is. With Lestat, there was nothing but petty hurts and evils. I resisted my nature out of pure rebellion against him. I want to learn more about what we are. Your coven may have the key to myself. But, only if I can trust Claudia will be kept safe."

"I would be more enthusiastic about helping to keep Claudia safe, if I knew for sure you would leave her, and stay with me," Armand said between two kisses.

"She probably prefers my leaving her," Louis said, tracing his fingers on Armand's abdomen, with a quick slap to Armand's face, he reiterated, "If there is a way to do it. I will leave her. And you
and your coven will leave her in peace."

"I promise. I will not be the one who kills her. Nor will my coven," Armand said, pressing his hand where Louis had hit him. He enjoyed the sting playing on his face. He wondered how in the hell he could make such a promise, "nor will I allow any other to kill her."

"See to it," Louis said, brushing his lips just almost against Armand's mouth.

Claudia ran down the cobbled streets for the fist time in her life she felt impossibly afraid.

Where is Louis? she thought, the wind smothering her cries for her father. Is he dead finally? she thought numbly, wishing with all her heart Lestat was still alive so he could help her save Louis from Armand. A mistake this is all a mistake, I should have never brought Louis here. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think! She pictured Louis and Lestat together. The occasional loving words between them. Ruined always eventually ruined by Lestat's anger against Louis. Everything, even the angry words between her fathers she now desperately missed. And Stephen. It was all over for them all once Lestat took him for a lover.

Entering a doll store she stared at the doll of an adult lady, perfect in its fairness with joined limbs, it's face as white as a vampire actress. Claudia's arms feel uselessly to her sides, her lips trembled.

"Why do you cry little girl?" said a splendid woman with her red hair knotted in a bun. The woman had tender, clever eyes and hands.

"The doll I hate it," Claduia spit out, reaching for the porcelain head, she crushed the face to powder.

"Child?" Madeline wondered, fathering Claudia in her arms, "What matter of child are you?"

Claudia could sense loss in the woman who was surprised over her red tears, "I am not a child,
Claudia said. Clasping her hand's gently on Madeleine's face, she said, "Perhaps, I am a child. Even an adult misses her mother." Claduia wept on her shoulder.

Patting her back, Madeleine sang a lullaby she once sang to the child who has died in her arms mere months ago, "It's all right," Madeleine cooed to her. Wiping her tears with a lawn handkerchief. "Who are you?"

"You mean rather what am I. I'm a vampire. Don't laugh at me, "Claudia said in a small voice, "I am. See." She exposed her fangs, "You needn't be afraid of me. I'm searching for my father."

"He should not have left one as small as you are alone," Madeline said, ignoring Claudia's fangs. She basked in Claudia's winter plum cheeks, her angelic beauty.

Throwing her arms around Madeleine's neck, she felt warm, comforted, and she was in such need for comfort.

All the dolls surrounding them, stared at her with their lifeless glass eyes, in their pretty laces.

Shivering, Claudia kissed Madeline's mortal eye lids, "I know where he is, but I'm afraid to find him," Claudia cried, "I must go. I'll return to you. Please wait for me. I will not hurt you."

Leaving the doll shop, Madeleine's warmth still tingling on her cold flesh, she crept to the darkened theatre. The dawn had but an hours to go.

The doors of the theatre flew open, there stood Armand to greet her. A blood stain on his neck, a thin line of blood falling from his lower lip. His wild auburn hair flew about in the breeze. He was
dressed in tawny finery. Claudia held her breath, drinking in his beauty feeling as if she was in the middle of saying a prayer.

"Claudia," Armand frowned, "Why are you here?"

"Did you kill him?" she gasped.

"Ah," Armand said, smiling, leaning against the door. He didn't want to tell her how before Louis left, they had an enrapturing conversation of sin, heaven and hell, of how Louis yearned to put an end to all things mortal in his thinking. Armand even took him to his tower showing him all his books. He had to smile remembering long ago when he took Louis to see his books when Louis was but fifteen years old, and he ended up throwing his books at Louis. He was glad Henri had taken all those memories away from Louis. The blood staining him was Louis' blood got there by a more gentle, intimate moment than the one they had while in bed together.

"I see in you thoughts you made a new friend, a Madeleine. Claudia I decided Louis is now my new friend."

"What do you mean?" Claudia said in a hushed voice shocked and angry with jealousy, "I, I want you to kill him! He doesn't belong to you! He belongs to Lestat! He doesn't want to be with you! Kill him so he can have peace with Lestat!"

"I probably shall," Armand said winsomely. "Kill him. Claduia, do not be angry. He's not near to being anything to me, unlike yourself. You are my little one the one I adore," Armand cried, lifting her up in his arms, tossing kisses on her face, "You love me Claduia, don't you? Say it."

"I love you," Claudia said, wincing at the words, "small one", submitting to the dainty nibbles on her ears and throat.

"You know what I promised you? I can perform a masterful trick," Armand said thoughtfully, his amber eyes grinning into hers, "Louis will not leave you unless he feels you have a protector. Madeleine. And even then," he said ruefully, "I doubt if he's ever really going to leave you."

"I no longer want his protection, or Madeline's. I want yours," Claudia said, snuggling into his chest.

"You won't have to deal with him for much longer. I will compel him my lovely one to take Madeline to the dark side. Then, I shall kidnap you," he smiled at her, lying to her, "he, I will lock in a coffin, he will not walk out of the theatre believing you to be still alive. You my beloved, will walk out on long luscious legs. Then you and I will runaway together. This coven bores me. We will have a fresh start." He delighted in his cruel deception.

"Can you really give me legs?" she cried , clapping her hands.

"You shall have control over our coven if you would rather, instead of our running away together. I can put up with them for another century with you at my side," Armand lied, caressing her face, "It's almost dawn. I'll shall take you home."

Strolling to Louis' home, he deposited Claduia in Louis' arms. Armand kissed Louis' cheek over Claudia's watchful eyes. Licking Claudia's face under Louis' cautious eyes. Armand treasured them both.

It's a damnable pity I must kill her, he thought, It is impossible for me to keep my promise to Louis, much less to her. Or is it? It is possible to reattach an arm once its been severed from a vampire's
body. Could I fix Claudia's head on to an adult's body? What a freak she would be! What if her face aged and grew to be compatible to her new body? I wouldn't have to kill her then. Oui, perhaps there is a way to make her into a woman. At least that may be one way, there is yet one more way to make Claudia into a woman, Armand thought, trying not to grin.

He stroked Claudia's face, leaning over her, he whispered into Louis' ear, "Madeleine, pretty woman. You should meet her."

"Who is Madeleine?" Louis asked. Claudia spent what was left of the night telling him on and on about how much she wanted Madeleine to be hers. Louis realized this may be his way out so he could live up to his end of his bargain with Armand: himself for Claudia's safety.

The next night, Louis sat in a chair, his head in his hands, his cloak around him Claw marks on his chest.

"She doesn't like you very much does she?" Claudia said, patting Louis' back.

Madeline emerged from the bedroom, her gown in shreds on her preternatural body. A grimace was on her face. Weak, pretty, and not at all like my late husband was, she thought disdainfully of Louis. She adored the womanly child standing beside him

The both of them stared at Louis. Their faces blank; both indifferent to him.

Louis held out his hand for Claduia to take. Laughing, Claudia dashed to Madeleine.

Both of them waited expectantly for him to leave, wanting him to leave them alone.

Louis instead picked up a book and read.

Claudia and Madeleine sighed, if he would not leave; they would leave. Madeline and Claduia hurried into Madeleine's bedroom. Claudia laughed as Madeleine tried on different ball room dresses till they found the perfect one. They went put to hunt and catch. Their voices merry and intimate.

He heard the door shut. He couldn't help but feel ridiculously jealous at how Madeleine won Claudia's heart. How she mothered and tended to Claudia. How Claduia responded to her as a grown up daughter would. It chipped his father's heart to be so abandoned for another. Wiping a tear from his eye, Louis looked into the flames. He swore he could see Lestat's face wearing the same lonely depressed expression on his face. "I love you," he whispered into the flames, warming his hands.

A hand caressed his hair, turning his head he was face to face with Armand.

"Who are you talking to Louis? All of us night breeds have so many ghosts crowded into our evenings. Uninvited guests."

"You are welcome," Louis said calmly, "in these fours walls which I mockingly call a home."

"Leave, if it's not to your liking. And come live with me."

"Enough, Armand," Louis said, staring at the fire, thinking, What will happen if you have me in your bed? Can I be sure you will protect her? He looked at Armand. " I miss your talk. Talk to
me."

They fell into a gentle exchange of antidotes from each others beliefs and dreams.

Kissing Louis good be, telling him he had to leave for the theatre, Armand's heart almost stopped. He is reneging on our bargain. A bargain I can not keep. I told my coven I am waiting for the right moment to kill the child.. I can not put it off forever. Gossip spreads fast. If another coven master finds out, Santino, Aloysius who now heads the Roman coven, Isstar who holds Egypt in her grip, any one of them, they will mock me if they assume I refuse to kill the child. I will be a laughing stock. Any one of them will gladly fly here to murder her. Damn, why did I make such an impossible promise to Louis? The whole world of vampires are against the concept of vampire children None of us endorses such an evil act, and we all are as evil as monsters can be. All of us! What will the other covens think if my wishes come true and they see the flames from afar of my coven burning. Ah, they will think me to be the most coldest, strongest, master vampire of them all. How they will fear me! Still fear me or not, she must die. Can't you see Louis making her was a mistake which no one will tolerate! Damn, why must you love her? She doesn't love you. She may be a woman's age, but she never learned how to be anything but a vampire. All she does is takes and takes, she never gives the way a woman knows how to give. And whose fault is
that? Yours and Lestat's, damn the both of you. Damn me for falling in love with you and Lestat. Through, ah Louis, if Lestat loved me, you might will become a cinder. And her. Even her. I like her, through, I don't love her.

He didn't have to look in flames to see Lestat. Lestat was safely locked away ready to play his role in the judgment of Claduia's, like it or not.

Weeks later, breaking through the windows, Santiago, and Laurent plucked Claudia and Madeline up in their arms. Other vampires subdued Louis slamming his head repetitively into a wall till his head was a bloody ball

Claudia, at first, had to scream to keep from laughing. It's going perfect, perfect just as Armand promised it would go if Louis refused to leave.

Santiago went to Louis, taking his pulse, happy to see he was unconscious. Going to Claudia who was being held by Laurent, Santiago picked her up, tossing her, and catching her to hug. "Lovely lady. My master wants you.."

"See, its all right, " Claudia thrilled to a terrified Madeline "They are not going to harm us."

The vampires surprised her by all bowing and curtsying to her. Her eyes grew wide with succulent pleasure.

"A bride should wear white," Santiago, whispered in her ear "No matter. Your dress of yellow is brilliant.

In triumph they escorted her to Armand.

The vampires danced around, arm in arm, swinging around, pretending to throw petals. Madeleine walked on air on the arm of a handsome, masculine vampire who tickled her ego with his words of praise for her womanly charms.

They came into the theater, but is was clothed in darkness. Claudia waited for any light, candles, gas lights, anything, her eyes cried out for light.

Suddenly, they lit all the candles at once, and the room shimmered and exploded with light.

"Lestat!" she screamed.

Standing in the glow, rays seemed to radiate from his slashed and scared face, his lips were frozen with dread. He knew Louis was locked in a coffin. Santiago was ready to drive a sword through a slit in the coffin right through Louis' throat if Lestat dared to mess up his lines.

Give the performance of your life, Santiago, projected into Lestat's mind, "Or at least for his life.

(15)

Claudia looked around. There were mortals watching the stage The vampires now wore black robes.

"I condemn you, my, my Claudia," Lestat said, almost falling to his knees in terror at his words, "I condemn you for attempting to kill me," His stomach turned, "your master."

Angrily his chest rose and fell, he was ready to strangle Armand, inching closer towards him, Lestat stopped when he saw Santiago shaking his finger at him. Santiago sprinkled kerosene on the coffin which was holding a terrified Louis.

"I condemn you for killing my lover, Stephen, your brother in darkness. I condemn you to death," Lestat said, wishing he had a sword to murder them all. Stumbling, weak from polluted corpse
blood, he fell to his knees.

"You hear your master," Armand said taking her hand. "True you did not kill him, but that my dear is a mere legal technicality. Now you must die."

"Lestat's alive, he's been alive all this time," Claudia cried, "What do you mean to do with him?' she asked as he opened the door of his bedroom to her.

The vampries performed a mock execution of Lestat, pretending to lop off his head with an ax. Santiago held up a doll's blond head. Another vampire squeezed a pig's badder, blood spilled on the stage, another put a a black cloth over Lestat's head. Louis heard it all. Freeing him from his coffin, Laurant shook his head, warning Louis to look sharp. The mortals all laughed at the comedy on the stage. Louis cursing Lestat for a fool.

"Louis you have to listen to me! I didn't want to do this!" Lestat begged.

The vampires held Louis by the arms as he struggled to vent his anger out on Lestat, "Damn you to hell. You impotent creature. It was your words which condemned her. You should have stayed dead!''

"Louis," Lestat screamed, "I didn't want to be a part of this.I didn't want it to end this way. I love her. Louis, believe me, I loved her!"

Lestat's words broke the ice around his heart. With a wild lunge Louis tried to free himself.

"Lestat!" he screamed twisting and writhing in the vampires' hands, "Lestat! Let me go. I want to be with him. Claudia! Lestat. Leave us alone. Damn you. I'll kill you all, if you hurt any one of
them! Lestat! I believe you!"

Armand quickly projected into Louis' mind. This is all Santiago's fault, and my coven's fault. When they discovered Lestat all wounded and in rags they forced him to tell them who injured him. Santiago threatened to take over the coven if I continued to ignore coven law. I could well have been killed myself, and you all would have perished without me. I will still try my best to save Claduia, Lestat, and you, too. I am your only hope, Louis.

"Lestat," Louis screamed as he was being dragged away to be put back in the coffin, "Armand," he whispered as the lid came down on him. "Our only hope! Santiago! Noooo!" he screamed as the lid slammed shut.

He can't be lying to me, Louis thought, banging his fists on the coffin lid. He can't be. What if he's trying to control my mind. Claudia, Claduia, he screamed over and over again.

Armand closed the door of his bedroom trapping Claudia inside. "It's time to work the magic," he laughed.

Taking out a scalpel, Armand threw back the covers on his bed, there lay a trussed up Madeleine.

"What are you going to to to her?" Claudia screamed.

Making jagged cuts in her throat, Armand quickly decapitated her.

"Working the magic, Claduia working the magic," Armand said happily as the blood swam around him.

"Madeleine, non."

"Madeleine, oui. You wanted to walk out of here on your fine adult legs," Armand cursed, "You sold lives to the devil," he taunted her. Tearing at her clothes, leaving her naked, thrusting his mouth on hers he savagely kissed her, then bit her hard on the neck. Pulling away her blood running down his mouth, he said, " Listen to me. I sympathize with your fears. I'm so tired of not changing myself. I'm more than happy to cause changes in you. I can keep my promise to Louis, if you walk out of here with an adult body. There will be no need to kill you. Little girls are not allowed to live Clauida," he purred, stripping himself naked, "I promised to make a woman out of
you. Touch me here."

Claudia couldn't believe this was the same kind boy who escorted her to operas, to the theatre, who bought her little presents. Caressing his hardness between his legs, Claudia bit back her wails. All she wanted was to convince the blood soaked vampire not to kill her.

Hiking up her dress, he put himself on top of her. She felt impaled on top of his cock. Madeline's blind claws scratching her face.

"Why!" she whispered, terrified as he drew the knife across her neck. "First tell me why! Why!"

"You wanted to be made into a woman. Now your a woman," Armand said in a controlled voice, "I kept you my promise."

She put her hands to her throat, staring at the blood, then her hand went to the wetness seeping out between her legs. "Oh God," she whispered.

"Grown women bleed down there. Didn't your father not tell you abut this? You are ignorant are you not?"

"I just thought it would never happen to me. Please, leave me alone!" she said hysterically. He made another slice in her throat.

"This may work," Armand said with deadly seriousness, holding aloft her head. "Who knows what your blood is capable of? Cut of a limb and it will grow back, or it can be reattached. If this works
Claudia, if the veins connect, the arteries connect too, and if it works, I will let you walk out of here. Your head will grow to accommodate your body."

Sewing on the head to Madeleine's body, he commanded, "Leave me then to my new life with Louis."

The head fell off rolling to the floor, Angrily, he pulled back a sheet from another rogue vampire on the floor. Several throats were cut for the operations he performed.

"Drink, damn you drink, "he snarled, letting his blood fall in drops on her head sewn to a beautiful vampire's body.

Claudia gibbered and roared out her desires for his blood, but drink she could not do, blood already was gushing out of her mouth, down to her full stolen breasts.

"You cannot live like this can you?" Armand said. Unsewing Claudia's head from the young female vampire's body., he sewed it back on to Claudia's body. Drenching her with all the blood from all the bodies in the room, including his own blood till her head did pay heed to the stitches to stay on. It was fully attached.

"Attach Madeline's, too," Claudia begged.

"Why? I'm going to kill her anyway. She's a weak rogue. All of them," Armand's mind set fire to one of the trembling bodies. The rogue vampire's body became a ball of fire before Claudia's
terrorized eyes. "Listen to me Claudia. I promised Louis I wouldn't kill you. And I mean to keep my promise. Run away from here. Never come back."

"You're killing all these poor creatures, Madeleine too, just to keep a promise to Louis? I will be be hunted down if I leave here. Outcast alone." Claduia pleaded. All the headless bodies were breathing with silent moans. Heads rolled aimlessly about. All of a sudden Claudia felt something which she had never felt before, she felt pity. Non," I will die with them. I am one of them. They died because like me they are outcasts. They are my sisters. I will not desert them, through only one," she ran to Madeelieine's body on the bed, "Only one loved me. I will not leave her. She's like a mother to me. I will not be separated from my mother for a second time. She needs me."

"Then I have kept my promise to Louis. This is a suicide. You killed yourself, " Armand said relieved.

Reattaching Madeline's head back to her body, the two of them held each other as Armand dragged the women's bodies out into the courtyard. They could hear heads scream as he set them all on fire. Madeline begged Claudia to flee, but she refused.

Pulling them both roughly out into the courtyard, Armand locked the door behind him. They stood there with all the ashes of these who had been cremated before them.

Madeline and Claduia heard the shutting of numerous coffin lids just before dawn.

The evening sky was turning gray. Tints of lavender shot through the darkness than indigo.

"I did it for love," Claudia wept on Madeleine's breast, "I did it for my freedom. I love you Louis, father. I love you, Lestat, father. Forgive me. Forgive me Jean. Mother, Madeleine forgive me.

Christmas, it's Christmas, she thought, and Lestat he has brought home a tree. And Louis he is decorating it with blown glass decorations. I love the blue one's the best. Lestat is lighting the candles on the tree. Louis is coming in the house with my gown, it's Mardi Gra. We are so excited. Lestat is dressed as a harlequin; Louis refuses to dress up. He's wearing but a half mask. And he's wearing that only because I urged him to. Oh, my father is rolling his eyes at my
other father's disagreeable refusal to wear a costume. It's my birthday. Lestat is saying, ta da! He bought me a ballerina doll. and I think her pink dress is as glittery as pink sugar. My finches
are singing. I took off the cover I put on their cage so they will sleep during the day, so they will be awake at night. Louis is reminding me to feed them, as if I would forget! Lestat and I are
hunting. He holds down a woman, and I'm killing her. I'm going to die now too. He didn't know. Lestat He thought I would stay a child forever. He wanted me to be happy forever. I couldn't.
Father, why couldn't I? I just couldn't. We vampires, we are like old people no matter how young we look. We have so many memories.

The sun loomed into the courtyard, Claudia hummed Stephen's song, hoping it would bring her closer to Lestat The music died on her lips screaming she became a blast of fire, words of childish prayers she suddenly remembered danced on her lips along with the dance of the flames.

Ghosts of her victims arose from the flames, talking to her, begging her for a reason why they had to die too early. The ghosts of children hop scotched in the flames. Some jumped ropes, some threw balls, all sang songs. Why did we die was being asked less and less. They all knew why, the ghosts, knew why. People died, and then went on. Out of the din of purgatory, she heard a pure voice.

"Claudia," Jean said, "I thought I would have to wait for you forever."

"Jean, you're not dead," she cried, dancing in the light of silver, "Its wonderful here," she cried dancing above a galaxy.

She held her breath, then she realized she had no breath to hold. There sitting under a laurel tree was a woman in eighteenth century dress along with Madeleine. A child was playing with Omphale. They are waved to her. The woman with Madeline started to come towards her.

"Mother," Claudia whispered I came back for you."

"So you did," Jean cried catching up her in his arm, "Purgatory is over. He said mischievously, "They had some issues with me about stealing. His copper hair was shining, "Flowers for a little girl? Non, not hardly," he pulled out of his sleeve flowers made of stars. "Flowers for Miss Claudia."

Her mother gave her a kiss, then she stood back, smiling at Jean with clever understanding in her eyes. All the ghosts' visual bodies dissolved so that Claudia was no longer a little girl. They were all but disembodied spirits. Jean and Claudia, two souls, pressed close together, and they finally kissed.

The end