things I must tell him, things I must explain. He would be the same for all time as he was at this moment; was there any small physical thing he wished to change? Shave the beard closer; trim the hair.

“None of that matters,” he said, in that soft cultured English voice. “What’s wrong?” So kind, as if I were the one who needed reassurance. “Isn’t it what you wanted?”

“Oh, yes, truly yes. But you have to be sure you want it,” I said, and only now I turned around.

He stood there in the shadows, so composed in his trim white linen suit, pale silk tie properly knotted at the neck. The light from the street shone brightly on his eyes, and flashed for one instant on the tiny gold stud in the tie.

“I can’t explain it,” I whispered. “It’s happened so quickly, so suddenly, when I was sure it wouldn’t. I’m afraid for you. Afraid you’re making a terrible mistake.”

“I want it,” he said, but how strained his voice was, how dark, how without that bright lyric note. “I want it more than you can know. Do it now, please. Don’t prolong my agony. Come to me. What can I do to invite you? To assure you? Oh, I’ve had longer than you know to brood on this decision. Remember how long I’ve known your secrets, all of you.”

How strange his face looked, how hard his eyes, and how stiff and bitter his mouth.

“David, something is wrong,” I said. “I know it is. Listen to me. We must talk it out together. It is the most crucial conversation perhaps that we will ever have. What’s happened to make you want it? What was it? Our time on the island together? Spell it out for me. I must understand.”

“You waste time, Lestat.”

“Oh, but for this, one must take time, David, it’s the very last time that time really matters.”

I drew closer to him, deliberately letting his scent fill my nostrils, deliberately letting the scent of his blood come to me, and awaken the desire in me which cared little who he was or what I was—the sharp hunger for him that wanted only his death. The thirst twisted and snapped inside me like a great whip.

He stepped backwards. I saw fear in his eyes.

“No, don’t be frightened. You think I would hurt you? How could I have beaten that stupid little Body Thief if it hadn’t been for you?”

His face stiffened all over, eyes becoming smaller, his mouth stretching in what seemed a grimace. Why, how dreadful and unlike himself he looked. What in God’s name was going on in his mind? Everything was wrong about this moment, this decision! There was no joy, no intimacy. It was wrong.

“Open to me!” I whispered.

He shook his head, eyes flashing as they narrowed again. “Won’t it happen when the blood flows?” Brittle, his voice!

“Give me an image, Lestat, to hold in mind. An image to hold against fear.”

I was confused. I wasn’t sure I knew what he meant.

“Shall I think of you and how beautiful you are,” he said tenderly, “and that we shall be together, companions always? Will that bring me through?”

“Think of India,” I whispered. “Think of the mangrove forest, and when you were most happy … ”

I wanted to say more, I wanted to say, no, not that, but I didn’t know why! And the hunger surged in me, and the burning loneliness mingled with it, and once again I saw Gretchen, saw the pure horror in her face. I moved closer to him. David, David at last … Do it! and be done with talking, what do the images matter, do it! What’s wrong with you that you fear to do it?

And this time I caught him firmly in my embrace.

There came his fear again, a spasm, but he did not truly struggle against me, and I savored it for one moment, this lush physical intimacy, the tall regal body in my arms. I let my lips move over his dark gray hair, breathing in the familiar fragrance, I let my fingers cradle his head. And then my teeth broke through the surface of the skin before I meant to do it and the hot salted blood flowed over my tongue and filled my mouth.

David, David at last.

In a torrent the images came—the great forests of India, and the great gray elephants thundering past, knees lifted awkwardly, giant heads wagging, tiny ears flapping like loose leaves. Sunlight striking the

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