speed. The pain was like a deep glow settling over my body. I imagined myself giving a warm light to the entire room.
I picked up the scent of mortals. A servant had come into the room and quickly gone out. Poor old guy. It made me laugh to myself in my half sleep, to think what he had seen-a dark-skinned naked man, with a mop of unkempt blond hair, lying atop David's tiger in the darkened room.
Suddenly, I caught David's scent, and I heard again the low familiar thunder of blood in mortal veins. Blood. I was so thirsty for blood. My burnt skin cried for it, and my burning eyes.
A soft flannel blanket was laid over me, very light and cool-feeling to me. There followed a series of little sounds. David was pulling the heavy velvet draperies closed over the windows, which he had not bothered to do all winter. He was fussing with the cloth so that there would be no seams of light.
Lestat, he whispered. Let me take you down into the cellar, where you'll surely be safe.
Doesn't matter, David. May I stay here in this room?
Yes, of course, you may stay. Such solicitude.
Thank you, David. I started to sleep again, and snow was blowing through the window of my room in the castle, but then it was wholly different. I saw the little hospital bed once more, and the child was in it, and thank God that nurse wasn't there but had gone to stop the one who was crying. Oh, such a terrible, terrible sound. I hated it. I wanted to be ... where Home in the deep French winter, of course.
This time the oil lamp was being lighted, instead of going out.
I told you it wasn't time. Her dress was so perfectly white, and look, how very tiny her pearl buttons! And what a fine band of pretty roses around her head.
But why? I asked.
What did you say? David asked.
Talking to Claudia, I explained. She was sitting in the petit-point armchair with her legs straight out before her, toes together and pointed at the ceiling. Were those satin slippers I grabbed her ankle and kissed it, and when I looked up I saw her chin and her eyelashes as she threw back her head and laughed. Such an exquisite full-throated laugh.
There are others out there, David said.
I opened my eyes, though it hurt to do it, hurt to see the dim shapes of the room. Sun almost coining. I felt the claws of the tiger under my fingers. Ah, precious beast. David stood at the window. He was peering through a tiny seam between the two panels of drapery.
Out there, he went on. They've come to see that you're all right.
Imagine that. Who are they? I couldn't hear them, didn't want to hear them. Was it Marius Surely not the very ancient ones. Why would they care about such a thing
I don't know, he said. But they are there.
You know the old story, I whispered. Ignore them and they'll go away. Almost sunrise anyway. They have to go. And they certainly won't hurt you, David.
I know.
Don't read my mind if you won't let me read yours, I said.
Don't be cross. No one will come into this room or disturb you.
Yes, I can be a danger even in repose ... I wanted to say more, to warn him further, but then I realized he was the one mortal who did not require such a warning. Talamasca. Scholars of the paranormal. He knew.
Sleep now, he said.
I had to laugh at that. What else can I do when the sun rises Even if it shines full upon my face. But he sounded so firm and reassuring.
To think, in the olden times, I always had the coffin, and sometimes I would polish it slowly until the wood had a great luster to it, and then I'd shine the tiny crucifix on top of it, smiling at myself, at the care with which I buffed the little twisted body of the massacred Christ, the Son of God. I'd loved the satin lining of the box. I'd loved the shape, and the twilight act of rising from the dead. But no more . . .
The sun was truly coming, the cold winter sun of England. I could feel it for certain, and suddenly I was afraid. I could feel the light stealing over the ground outside and striking the windows. But the darkness held on this side of the velvet