of the tiger. I was afraid for you. And now the menace of the dream will be fulfilled.
What do you mean?
I'm going to do it to you, David. I'm going to bring you to me.
What? His voice dropped to a whisper. What are you saying to me? He leant forward, trying to see clearly the expression on my face. But the light was behind us, and his mortal vision wasn't sharp enough for that.
I just told you. I'm going to do it to you, David.
Why, why are you saying this?
Because it's true, I said. I stood up and pushed the chair aside with my leg.
He stared up at me. Only now did his body register the danger. I saw the fine muscles of his arms tense. His eyes were fixed on mine.
Why are you saying this You couldn't do this to me, he said.
Of course I could. And I shall. Now. All along I've told you I was evil. I've told you I'm the very devil. The devil in your Faust, the devil of your visions, the tiger in my dream!
No, that's not true. He climbed to his feet, knocking the chair over behind him, and almost losing his balance. He stepped back into the room. You're not the devil, and you know that you're not. Don't do this to me! I forbid it! He clenched his teeth on the last words. You are in your own heart as human as I am. And you will not do it.
The hell I won't, I said. I laughed. I couldn't help it suddenly. David the Superior General, I said. David the Candomble priest.
He backed across the tiled floor, the light fully illuminating his face, and the tense powerful muscles of his arms.
Want to fight me It's useless. There's no force on earth that can stop me from doing this.
I'll die first, he said, in a low strangled voice. His face was darkening, flushed with blood. Ah, David's blood.
I won't let you die. Why don't you call on your old Brazilian spirits You don't remember how to do it, do you Your heart's not in it. Well, it wouldn't do you the slightest good if you did.
You can't do this, he said. He was struggling for calm. You can't repay me in this fashion.
Oh, but this is how the devil repays his helpers!
Lestat, I helped you against Raglan! I helped you recover this body, and what was your pledge to me of loyalty! What were your words?
I lied to you, David. I lie to myself and to others. That's what my little excursion in the flesh taught me. I lie. You surprise me, David. You're angry, so very angry, but you're not afraid. You're like me, David-you and Claudia-the only ones who really have my strength.
Claudia, he said, with a little nod. Ah, yes, Claudia. I have something for you, my dear friend. He moved away, deliberately turning his back on me, letting me see the fearlessness of this gesture, and he went slowly, refusing to hurry, to the chest beside the bed. When he turned around again he had a small locket in his hands. From the Motherhouse. The locket you described to me.
Oh, yes, the locket. Give it to me.
Only now did I see how his hands shook as he struggled with the little oval gold case. And the fingers, he did not know them so very well, did he At last he had it opened and he thrust it at me, and I looked down at the painted miniature-her face, her eyes, her golden curls. A child staring back at me out of the mask of innocence. Or was this a mask
And slowly, out of the vast dim vortex of memory, came the moment when I had first laid eyes upon that trinket and upon its golden chain . . . when in the dark muddy street, I had happened upon the plague-ridden hovel where her mother lay dead, and the mortal child herself had become food for the vampire, a tiny white body shivering helplessly in Louis's arms.
How I'd laughed at him, how I'd pointed my finger, and then snatched up from the stinking bed the body of the dead woman-Claudia's mother-and danced with it round and round the room. And there gleaming on her throat had been the golden chain and the locket, for not even the boldest thief would have entered that hovel to steal the bauble from the very maw of the plague.