Chapter Text
Things were going well. That was what hurt the most. After the reunion with Lestat, they both agreed they were not ready to go back to how things used to be. Lestat needed to get his life back together and Louis needed to learn how to live by himself. However, they exchanged phone numbers. They had the unspoken agreement of not calling each other. Both of them were too afraid of saying the wrong thing and sparking an argument that would pull them apart again. But Lestat texted him constantly, updating him about the decoration of his new apartment, about all the wonders of the modern world (Louis was not surprised when Lestat sent him the longest Spotify list he had ever seen). Even though Louis was living on the other side of the world, Lestat became a constant in his life, brightening his nights.
Then the book was published.
Louis could not even be upset at Daniel. He had lost his life for this book. It was his right to publish it. And neither of them (as much as Daniel liked to claim otherwise) could have anticipated its success. It became a bestseller, getting into the top five of the New York Times list. It felt unreal to see strangers on social media talking and analysing him, Lestat and, worst of all, Claudia.
Lestat had blocked his number, a fact that spoke louder than any words. Lestat was quick to anger and even quicker to forget about it. The silence was the true monster with him. Louis started to wonder if he would have to wait another 70 years to see him. He did not think he could survive that.
“Louis”.
“Hi, Daniel. How are you doing?”
“Oh, great. I bought a new house in Pasadena, just by the beach. Anyway, that's not why I’m contacting you. Have you listened to the radio recently?”
“The radio?"
“Or social media, but I know you’re taking a break from those”.
“I’m not very interested in modern music”.
“Ok, I’m gonna send you something” Louis’ phone beeped. It was a link to the Rolling Stone magazine. The headline left him reeling. “The Vampire Lestat takes rock by storm. What is this?”
“I was hoping you would tell me. It's a new rock band, their album is really popular. The singer claims to be the Lestat. Wanted to ask you if it's him. He definitely fits your description”.
Louis scrolled down the article, his heart beating wildly. There was a picture at the bottom. Lestat looked so much better than the last time he had seen him. Healthier, with his blond hair falling in waves over his shoulders. Louis wondered if that was his natural hair or the result of some sort of product. He didn’t remember his hair looking like that when they were together.
“Louis?”
“Yes, it's him”.
“Well, shit”.
He cut the connection with Daniel. The all-too-familiar frustration, the cause of which was always and forever Lestat, spread throughout him like wildfire. He should not be surprised. Of course Lestat would choose the most dramatic way of reacting to the situation instead of talking to him like the adult he was supposed to be. If Louis had gone public with his story, Lestat would outdo him.
Over the next few days, Louis listened to the lyrics of the album. They became the soundtrack of his life. Some of them were clearly about him. Others alluded to other chapters in Lestat’s life. That life that was almost unknown to Louis and the little he knew were lies. He listened to these songs over and over, obsessively, as if by doing so he would get to finally decipher Lestat. As if such a thing was possible.
He spent days locked up in his penthouse, the grey walls of the apartment in Dubai suffocating him like they had not done in a long time. When Daniel offered to visit, Louis almost rejected him until he thought of it better. He was repeating his old patterns, letting his life turn around Lestat. So what if Lestat was not talking to him? Did Louis not say he was companion enough for himself? He took a shower, caught up with the emails accumulating in his inbox and fed on a willing employee. When Daniel arrived early the next night, his eyes were on him like a hawk.
“You're doing better than I thought”.
“I’m not a teenage boy, Daniel”.
“You certainly act like one sometimes. You know what? Fuck it. You’re gonna find out anyway. I’m travelling with the Vampire Lestat tour”.
“What?”
“Your ex called me, said he wanted to tell his story. We’re doing a documentary, it’s good publicity for the band”.
Louis wanted to retort that they were not exes. What they had was too complicated to condense it in that modern word.
“I suppose he wants to tell his version of what happened in New Orleans”.
“We’re not there yet”.
“What do you mean? What are you two talking about then?”
“I told you. His story. His childhood, his family, how he was turned… well, we have not reached that part yet either. It’s only been a couple of interviews so far. It’s gone surprisingly well, he only tried to choke me twice”.
His life story. Lestat was telling his life story to Daniel. Louis remembered all the nights in New Orleans when he begged Lestat to tell him something, anything about his life, and Lestat would take it as a personal affront. The past is irrelevant, mon cher, all that matters is us now, he would say. He only gave the shortest version of his turning to him and Claudia when it was already too little, too late.
“Louis?”
“Tell him I want to talk to him”.
“Oh, no. I’m not playing the role of carrier pigeon between the two of you”.
“Daniel, please”.
“He doesn't want to talk with you. I already asked him”.
Lestat wanted to play by human rules now, right? Being a rockstar, pretending he's taking advantage of the book to boost his career. Very well, Louis had a seventy year old start on him when it came to human society. He scrolled down the list of contacts on his phone until he found the number of his lawyer.
The copyright lawsuit went viral quickly. Louis did not plan on turning the lawsuit into a media circus, his goal was to settle before getting to court. In the end, this was only an excuse to talk to Lestat. Lestat's lawyer contacted his and they agreed to meet at the building of his record label. Louis took a deep breath (old human habits were hard to kick) and opened the door to the meeting room. It was weird to see Lestat wearing modern clothes. He was wearing a black, satin shirt, trousers of the same color and, of course, sunglasses even though they were indoors. Always so dramatic.
“Hello Lestat” Louis said with a placid smile.
Lestat did not say anything. He even looked angrier at Louis’ calm manner. After a tense silence, the woman sitting beside Lestat cleared her throat.
“I’m Emily Faraday, Mr. Lioncourt’s lawyer. Are you ready to start the discussion?”
“Sure” his own lawyer, Michael, said. ”My client is suing Mr. Lioncourt for copyright infringement”.
“You know it is a baseless accusation. Louis du Lac did not write Interview with the Vampire. The author is Daniel Molloy”.
“But it's the story of my life” Louis interrupted.
“And of mine”.
Lestat had taken off his sunglasses, blue eyes staring at him. The last time Louis saw them, it was dark and the streets were barely illuminated. Now the fluorescent lights of the room made them look almost violet. For a moment Louis forgot the world around him. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with Lestat, to have privacy and stop this stupid game. Alas, that was impossible right now.
“A heavily fictionalised story” Faraday added. “At least that is what the judge will say. Most people do not believe vampires are real after all”.
So even though she was a human, this lawyer knew about the existence of vampires. Michael was a vampire himself so that allowed them all to speak freely.
“That is true” Michael conceded, “but we will say there are real parts in the story. The loss of loved ones and toxic relationships are topics any human has experienced”.
“They are also deeply personal, painful topics that did not need to be fuel for BookTok” Lestat retorted.
“What is that?” Louis asked.
“It is a subgenre of social media in which people give their opinions about literature of varying degrees of quality. There is a lot of discourse about your book”.
“I didn't know”.
“Of course not! You gave the interview and now you refuse to deal with the consequences of the Pandora's box you opened. Poor me, innocent Louis under the yoke of Lestat, the big bad monster”.
“You were far from perfect”.
“Sure, I had defects. But I did not direct that play and then came home to canoodle with one of his victims. Who did that, I wonder? Repeat the name”.
“That would be Armand” Louis was surprised Lestat brought up that topic. It was still a sore subject for him, but he refused to let it show. “You want to get into Armand?”
“Armand!” Lestat laughed hysterically. “Santiago I could understand, at least he had a presence. But Armand?”
“I’m happy to discuss Armand if you think that would help you, Lestat”.
“Is it true you had a second home in Sausalito with him?”
He never told Daniel that information and yet, it was included in the book. One of the many edits done by the Talasmaca.
“We did”.
“Did you take turns driving across Golden Gate Bridge? Who held the wheel harder?”
Louis would have been furious if Lestat had made that comment in the 1910s. He probably was trying to get that reaction out of him. Fortunately a long time had passed, Louis was confident in his sexuality and bottoming did not make him ashamed anymore.
“We were writing numbers on each other’s backs and pretending to guess wrong”.
A feeling of glee filled him when he realised he had left Lestat speechless, if only for a second.
“I bet” Lestat said, dumbfounded. “I bet! Very specific detail to pluck out of thin air! Va te faire foutre!”
Louis smiled. Oh, he had missed this. He had missed being told to go fuck himself in French and he had missed how easy it was to rile Lestat up. He touched his lawyer's arm. He had never done anything with him but, of course, Lestat would arrive at a very different conclusion. Lestat tracked the movement jealously and his face soured.
“Maybe we should get on with the proceedings?” Faraday asked. Louis sincerely hoped she was getting paid enough to deal with this shitshow.
“My client would like to avoid going to court and the public attention that would attract so we have a settlement proposal: Lestat de Lioncourt will do a series of promotions for my client’s establishments. Call it financial repairs”.
“How dare you?” Lestat stood up and slammed his hands on the table. “I will not be your slave. I am a musician, not a pretty jewel to be paraded around”.
“Several of my businesses are musical venues” Louis explained. That was not at all what he was trying to imply. “I will get a portion of the ticket sales, like any other similar business, and the prestige of hosting one of the most popular bands right now”.
Before Lestat could give his angry reply, they both heard a loud noise coming from further down the floor.
“Hey, what are you doing?” A male voice yelled on the other side of the door. “You can't be here!”
The door opened violently. Louis immediately recognised the enraged expressions and dull clothes of the five intruders. Coven vampires.
“Death to the vampire Lestat!” they yelled in unison.
Louis set one of them on fire before they could even get close to Lestat. That made two of them change targets and run towards him. He punched the closest one in the stomach, making him crash against the wall. The other one managed to slash him on the face. Louis was about to counterattack when a fist went through the attacker's chest from behind. The coven vampire looked at the hole in his chest for a second, until the fist retreated and he fell to the floor. Lestat flicked the blood off his hand and then kicked the fallen vampire in the stomach.
“He’s dead, Lestat”.
“He hurt you”.
“It's just a scratch, it will be healed by tomorrow”.
The other two vampires who had tried to attack Lestat lay on the floor, one headless and the other one with his throat cut. It must have taken him only a couple of seconds to do that. Louis wondered, not for the first time, how powerful Lestat really was. How many things he was hiding from him. Emily was standing on the corner, shaking but unhurt. Michael had not moved, trusting the two older vampires to take care of the problem.
“Michael, could you escort Ms. Faraday in case there are more intruders around? Lestat and I are their targets, so they should not attack you two”.
Michael nodded. He put his arm around Emily’s waist and escorted her out of the room. Once they were alone in the room, Louis sighed.
“This would not happen if it weren't for your stunt”.
“I am usually careful with my safety, but I had to come here tonight for this stupid lawsuit”.
“You were not picking up my calls. What did you want me to do?”
“Leave me alone? Oh wait” Lestat laughed sarcastically. “I forgot that only applies when you need space”.
“I tried to destroy the interview”.
“I don't care that it's published, but the things you said in it about me. The train! Do you really think I would do that to her?”
Lestat was pacing around the room, kicking the corpses out of his way as he walked around.
“I… I don't know. I’m not sure where I got the idea”.
Louis really didn't. Lestat said it didn't happen. It also was not in Claudia's diaries so then… what? Did Claudia lie to him in order to get him to hate Lestat? Did Armand put the memory there? He was so tired of sorting out what was real or what was not. Lestat stared at him, and Louis was sure he was seeing right through him.
“They were already targeting you for your book” Lestat said.
“Don’t compare a book everyone would have forgotten in a year with being the most famous rockstar in the US!”
“I have also topped the charts of several European countries”.
“You’re making it worse” Louis let out a sigh. “Look, my establishments have security dedicated to dealing with this kind of problem”.
“Do you mean you are employing vampires as security staff?”
“It's a good job, pays well. Not all of us have investments going back centuries”.
“Is that why you want me to take the settlement?”
“You don't have to take the settlement. We don't need to make it legal. Just… please. Now it's five vampires, but what are you gonna do when it's twenty? They're gonna start organising at some point”.
“There’s Daniel”.
“3-month-old fledging Daniel?”
Lestat scowled at him, but his shoulders relaxed and he raised his hands in defeat.
“Fine. You win”.
Louis wanted to retort that this was not about winning, it was about him not losing the last person that meant something to him. Of course no good would come from telling Lestat this. Their relationship was too fragile right now for such grand declarations.
Instead he nodded. They exchanged numbers (again). This time Lestat promised not to block him.
“You can't just sign a legal agreement that affects the entire band without telling me!”
Lestat tracked the frantic gestures of Christine. It was rare to see her so agitated. She was usually very calm and rational, fundamental requisites to deal with the chaotic job of being his manager.
He could try to explain it was about safety, but who was he kidding? It was about Louis. It was always about Louis. He had begged him to accept the deal and Lestat had been incapable of saying no.
“Amazing job, Romeo”.
Lestat cursed. Daniel, who was watching the show from the couch, had heard that last thought and decided to give his two telepathic cents.
“You two should just fuck. This is ridiculous”.
“How are things going with the gremlin, Daniel? Still ignoring your calls?”
“Touche”.
“Hey” Christine snapped her fingers to get their attention. “No telepathic conversations when I’m talking”.
“My apologies” Lestat said sincerely. He knew how isolating it was to be left out. He tried not to be that rude in front of Christine, but Daniel tested his patience sometimes.
“Just… I hope this doesn't come back to bite us in the ass. I know you trust Louis, but he could easily use this to get complete control over you”.
“Louis already has a tremendous power over me. A little piece of paper is not going to change things much”.
Christine let out an exasperated sigh at his antics. Daniel just laughed.
The first concert in Los Angeles was set to play in a small venue owned by Louis’ company. He hoped that meant Louis would attend, but Lestat had not dared ask him. He did not want to pressure or guilt Louis into doing things for his sake. He was trying to be different this time. Louis probably did not like his songs anyway. He could not imagine rock was one of his favorite genres.
“My fucking god, just text him!”
“Stay out of my head, Daniel”.
“I didn’t listen to a single thought, but thanks for confirming my suspicions. It’s just one simple text, you big coward: hey, you coming tonight?”
“Do you know? He would tell you, you’re friends”.
“Sorry, have you met Louis? You need to pry the words out of him”.
Lestat scanned Daniel’s mind, but he found a solid wall in place. He raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“Does this mean you're seeing the gremlin after all?”
“I could have learned this trick on my own”.
“No, you couldn't. You would need the lessons of a vampire exceptionally capable in the use of the mind gift”.
“Is this going to be a problem, man?”
“As long as he stays far away from me, there is no problem. It's your unlife, ruin it however you like”.
“How ironic coming from you”.
Lestat chuckled. Daniel was infuriating and Lestat ended up cursing him and yelling at him more often than not. And yet, he liked his fearlessness. Most fledglings would be terrified of talking back to an older vampire, but not him. It reminded Lestat of his early years after he got turned.
“Five minutes!” Christine shouted, a warning for him and for the members of his band.
Lestat looked at himself in the mirror. He had put special care into his clothes tonight, just in case. Glitter sprinkled on his face, tight green trousers, a corset that accentuated his silhouette and a black shirt with way too many buttons open. He looked gorgeous.
He came out on stage to thunderous applause and cheers. And yet, none of that mattered. Louis was there after all, in a seat in the upper gallery that provided the best view of the stage. He was smiling, aware that Lestat had noticed his presence. Oh, how Lestat wished he could communicate from this distance. The Dark Gift was cruel indeed.
He strutted around the stage, his body moving sensually, making the crowd go crazy. He did not care about that. He was moving only for Louis. He looked up at him from time to time, gauging his reactions. Louis' gaze held the same desire and lust they had in their early days of New Orleans, when he sang and played the piano for the crowd of Storyville.
Suddenly, Louis frowned and looked down at the floor. Lestat was so caught up in the moment he did not realize another vampire had entered the concert. A vampire he would recognise anywhere. For a moment he stumbled over his lines and lost the rhythm, but he recovered quickly.
Gabrielle was standing in the middle of the crowd. She was dressed down compared to everyone else, a simple black t-shirt and linen trousers. She had not changed at all. Lestat knew it was impossible for her to change but it still surprised him. She looked amused by the performance, like a mother seeing a childish tantrum. The excitement he had felt for the concert was gone. When he finished, he left the stage without a word of thanks to the public.
If Gabrielle wanted to talk to him, she would find him. And if she didn't, maybe he would not see her again in another two centuries. God, only the thought of living for that long exhausted him.
“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, eyeing him warily. “You looked a bit shocked for a minute”.
“My mother was in the crowd”.
“Your mother” Daniel repeated slowly. “The one you talked about in the interviews?”
“I have no other mother. And to answer your next question, she’s alive because I turned her. Sorry for the spoiler”.
“And when did that happen?” Louis’ voice came from behind him.
Lestat turned around with dread. Louis was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a mask of neutrality on his face. He was keeping his distance again, just when Lestat thought they were doing better.
“Shortly after I was turned” Lestat explained, hoping Louis would understand. “She was my first fledgling”.
“You never talked about her”.
“I have not seen her in 200 years. She left long before I moved to New Orleans”.
It was a bitter sentence that left ashes on his tongue. She had not just left. She had abandoned him despite him begging her not to. The story of his life, truly.
“That's not the point, Lestat!” Louis yelled. “All those times you told me to cut my mortal ties, to stop talking to my family? And you didn't think to mention you had turned your own mother!”
“Did you ever stop to think I was talking based on my own experience?”
“No! Because you never told me a single thing about your life so how could I have known that? We spent three decades together. That's more than a lot of marriages. You knew everything about me, but you were a closed book for me”.
“You knew my soul, my essence. I laid myself bare for you, Louis”.
“But I can't read your thoughts. Things would have been different if you had just…”
“What? If I told you all my miseries, if I reopened every wound and agony I suffered during my life? I moved to America trying to forget, to start anew”.
“People do not work like that. We are not blank slates that can choose when to erase what happened to us”.
“We are also not just the accumulation of our suffering. That is not all I am”.
“And yet you are giving all details of your life to Daniel. So what changed?”
Lestat laughed. He couldn't help it. He laughed manically, uncontrollably, as if Louis had told the best joke in the world. In a way, he had.
“Nothing, that's the problem” he said between bouts of snickering. “I have long since realized there is no starting anew and the ghosts of my past will always follow me so I may as well put them all out there”.
He knew what happened when Louis was in that mood. He would take every vulnerable thing Lestat had ever told him and hurl it back at him like David throwing rocks at Goliath. Lestat braced himself when Louis opened his mouth. However, no words came out. Louis frowned, hesitating, and took a step back.
“I think it’s better if we leave it here for tonight” Louis said.
Lestat nodded, relieved. He watched Louis turn around and leave. He suddenly felt tired beyond his years or maybe in accordance to them. Unfortunately for him, his night was not over. Gabrielle was waiting for him in the parking lot reserved for the band, leaning on his green car. He was so glad she was here. He was so angry she was here. It was all a whirlwind of emotions he could not make sense of. Gabrielle had always been chaos and love in unequal measure.
“What wonderful timing, mother” he said flippantly.
He used the title on purpose, knowing it would irk Gabrielle.
“You look… different, Lestat”.
“You don't. What jungles have you been gallivanting around?”
“Is this how our reunion shall go? You know I could not stay”.
He knew, yes. They both had embraced vampirism, but in complete opposite ways. They were doomed to fall apart and Gabrielle had simply decided to jump ship before it happened. She had always been a very practical person. It didn't make it hurt any less.
“I am overjoyed to see you, Gabrielle, you must believe me”.
“But you wonder why I’m here. Fine, I am worried about your wellbeing”.
Lestat let out a bark of laughter. People kept surprising him tonight.
“Now you are worried? I’ve had some very rough 200 years. I came close to dying several times. I’m doing pretty well now by comparison”.
“I’ve heard vampires all over the world plotting your murder. You and your lover have angered a lot of people”.
His lover… If it only was that easy. He wished Louis was only his lover to him, and not so much more.
“Let them come” Lestat shrugged. “There have already been attempts and none have succeeded”.
“So you will continue with this venture”.
“It is not a venture. It is the passion of my life. I have never felt more fulfilled”.
That was a lie. He had felt more fulfilled lying in a coffin with Louis in his arms. But this was the next best thing.
“It is unsustainable. You cannot keep dodging attacks while you go around the country playing with your band”.
“We’re going around the world, actually. We will land in London in a couple of weeks”.
“So you will not stop?”s
“I can't. It will kill me, and with much more certainty than any overzealous little creature could”.
Gabrielle stared at him. Her eyes were very similar to his, even when they both had been human. He resembled her the most out of all his brothers. It was one of the reasons why his father had hated him. Lestat never looked at himself in a mirror when he was a human. That was a privilege reserved for rich people and not penniless country aristocrats. But he liked to imagine his eyes had been the same shade of blue as Gabrielle's, just like now they were the same shade of icy violet.
Still his gaze could never be as penetrating and discerning as hers. He felt naked, his soul open for her. Finally, she nodded.
“Very well. I will be around then”.
He hated how his heart lifted at those words.
“How long?”
“Until the danger has passed”.
“Do you have a place to sleep tonight? I could book a room for you in the hotel where I am staying”.
As he expected, Gabrielle rejected the offer.
“There is a national park nearby. I will sleep there”.
Gabrielle left quickly after that, no pleasantries exchanged. Lestat sighed, absolutely drained, and opened his car. He just wanted to arrive at the hotel, get into his coffin and forget about this confusing night.
Lestat woke up the following night in a horrible mood, irritated at the world and with the urge to take it out on some poor bystander who looked at him the wrong way. Unfortunately nowadays every street has CCTV, not to mention the portable camera known as a smartphone that everyone carries with them. So instead he opened the mini fridge of the room and took one of the blood bags. He poured the contents into a mug and put it into the microwave to heat it up. He could drink it cold but it tasted weird, unnatural. Blood was supposed to be warm.
While he waited, he checked Twitter. Some people were calling him rude for not saying thanks or goodbye to the public last night while others thought it added character to his stage persona. Lestat didn't care much what some strangers thought of him. If his music called out to them, they could come see him. It was as easy as that.
He saw he had a message from Christine. He let out a long suffering sigh, knowing he would not like the text.
“Don't forget about the party tonight. You are legally obligated to go. 10 pm sharp”.
Part of the settlement included arranged publicitary events the band should attend, including promoting a club the night after the concert. Lestat was initially quite excited for it but now he would rather eat glass.
He looked at the clock. 9.30. Shit. He dressed really quickly: white trousers, a pink shirt and a corset of the same color. The sunglasses would cover for his lack of makeup. He arrived at the venue ten minutes late. The rest of the band was already at the photocall and he almost ran them over in his hurry.
“What the fuck, dude?” Alex shouted. “I’ve seen 90 year old geriatrics drive better. You should not have a license”.
“Great, because I do not have one” Lestat said, slamming the door of the car.
He ignored Alex’ alarmed look and posed for the photographers. Lestat thought it ironic. All these people were screaming his name, asking for his attention, and yet the only one Lestat wanted would not speak to him. The club was full of party goers who celebrated his entrance loudly. Lestat took off his sunglasses and pirouetted. He scanned the crowd, but Louis was nowhere to be seen.
“Lestat, are you okay?” Tough Cookie asked worriedly.
Out of the whole band, she seemed to read him the best. He plastered a smile they both knew was fake.
“Of course, my darling. It is nothing of importance. Let us go drink”.
“You can't get drunk” she said, rolling her eyes.
“True. But I do need to keep up appearances. Who has ever heard of a sober rockstar?”
He let Tough Cookie choose the drinks since they all tasted the same to him. He drank the bland beverage without much thought.
“Ah, it's a shame you can't taste it” Cookie lamented. “Did you have vodka and gin in your time?”
“They probably had vodka in Russia, but not in Paris. We had a lot of wine instead”.
“What a stereotype”.
“Stereotypes come from somewhere”.
He liked how casually Cookie and the other members of the band asked him about his human life. He usually did not like to remember such times, but they only ever asked trivial questions, curiosities he didn't realize would be captivating for people in this time. It was fun, and it let him reminisce without dragging up all the painful episodes.
During the next hours, he danced and accepted the occasional drinks he was offered. He relished the love of his fans, an ephemeral mending for the hole in his heart. The inconvenience of consuming so many drinks unfit for his nature is that his body tries to kick them out as soon as possible. He felt the pressure in his bladder that urged him to go to the toilet. Up until the start of the tour, he had not known such a thing was possible. He thought his bodily functions stopped working the night his humanity was stolen from him. But then again, he had never mingled with mortals so much that he needed to keep up appearances. He refused to eat human food though. He was not looking forward to his body remembering it could do that.
The toilets were blessedly empty so he used the urinal quickly. Unfortunately the piss was blood which would raise a few questions if anyone saw. He had heard humans in very ill health experienced this effect as well, but Lestat looked too young to have those sorts of problems. He was zipping up his trousers when an alarm started blaring through the building. The loudness hurt his sensitive hearing and he hissed.
“Putain, now what?” he murmured, annoyed.
The lights changed from white to bright red. He recognised, thanks to all the times Christine had drilled into him the security details of their venues, this was some sort of evacuation system. He could hear people escaping in a panic, the band amongst them. The door of the toilets opened and two vampires ran in. They zoomed towards him. Lestat kicked one of them in the chest before he could reach him. He turned around quickly towards the other one, but he stumbled.
He was suddenly feeling very dizzy. He grabbed the corner of the washbasin in order not to fall. His legs felt weak, as if they could not support him. Overall, all these feelings felt very familiar. He almost expected to see Claudia, his fantastical evil child, looming over him. Instead it was just a painfully mundane man who Lestat doubted was worthy of the Dark Gift.
“We sneaked some poisoned blood in your drinks” one of the vampires, a tall man with red hair, said with a vicious smile. “Tonight your disgrace to our race ends here”.
Lestat had been called a disgracement many times and better people than him, so his words did not affect him much. As he got kicked in the stomach, smashing his back against the wall, he only regretted being killed by such inferior people. Sometimes he thought he should have died in New Orleans, that he should not have begged Louis to bring him back to his coffin. This night was definitely proving him right.
He tried to grab the neck of the redhead, but his movements were clumsy and he only managed to nick his throat. The vampire grabbed him by his hair and smashed his face against the large mirror above the washbasin, once, twice… He lost count after that. He fell to the floor. He could only see from one eye, the other one stuck shut by the blood falling from his head wounds. He saw the two pairs of shoes, cheap sneakers because God forbid coven vampires got something nice or, worse, a sense of style.
“Dude, kill him already” The other vampire urged. “The staff is almost done with the rest of us. We need to go”.
The redhead hissed, but walked towards him, a bottle of alcohol in his right hand and a lighter in the left one. Well, Lestat thought, at least they know what they are doing. He wondered how much it would hurt. Even Magnus, as ancient as Rome, had not been able to keep the grimace of pain from his face as he burned. Lestat had thought of doing it a few times over his seven decades of isolation, but he never had the guts to follow through. It was almost nice that the decision was being taken for him.
He wondered if Louis would mourn him. Lestat wanted to believe Louis cared that much for him. But maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe, as he saw his ashes on the dirty floor of this bathroom, Louis would realize this is what he needed to do a century ago. Maybe he would feel relief at not having an anchor pulling him down anymore. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he felt the cold liquid being poured over him.