bottle of Scotch beside him, and the thick-bottomed crystal glass, and the pack of small thin cigars—when he looked up and saw me there.
I stood on the sand, well outside the little porch with its low cement railing, but quite visible in the light.
“Lestat,” he whispered. His face brightened beautifully. He rose at once and came towards me with the familiar graceful stride. “Thank God you’ve come.”
“You think so?” I said. I thought of that moment in New Orleans when I’d watched the Body Thief scurrying out of the Café du Monde and thought that body could move like a panther with someone else inside.
He wanted to take me in his arms, but when I stiffened and moved just a little away, he stood still, and folded his arms across his chest—a gesture that seemed to belong entirely to this body, as I couldn’t remember ever seeing him do it before we’d met in Miami. These arms were heavier than his old arms. The chest was broader too.
How naked it looked. How darkly pink the nipples. How fierce and clear his eyes.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“Really? Surely you haven’t been living as a recluse here?”
“No, I’ve seen too much of others, I think. Too many little supper parties in Bridgetown. And my friend Aaron has come and gone several times. Other members have been here.” He paused. “I can’t bear to be around them, Lestat. I can’t bear to be at Talbot Manor among the servants, pretending to be a cousin of my old self. There’s something really appalling about what’s happened. Sometimes I can’t bear to look in the mirror. But I don’t want to talk about that side of it.”
“Why not?”
“This is a temporary period, one of adjustment. These shocks will eventually pass. I have so much to do. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come. I had a feeling you would. I almost left for Rio this morning, but I had the distinct feeling I’d see you tonight.”
“Is that so.”
“What’s the matter? Why the dark face? Why are you angry?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really require a reason to be angry these days. And I ought to be happy. I will be soon. Always happens, and after all—it’s an important night.”
He stared at me, trying to figure what I meant by these words, or more properly what was the right thing for him to reply.
“Come inside,” he said finally.
“Why not sit here on the porch in the shadows? I like the breeze.”
“Certainly, as you say.”
He went into the little room to take up the bottle of Scotch, pour himself a drink, and then he joined me at the wooden table. I had just seated myself in one of the chairs and was looking directly out over the sea.
“So what have you been doing?” I asked.
“Ah, where do I begin?” he asked. “I’ve been writing about it continuously—trying to describe all the little sensations, the new discoveries.”
“Is there any doubt that you’re securely anchored in the body?”
“None.” He took a deep drink of his Scotch. “And there seems to be no deterioration of any kind. You know, I feared that. I feared it even when you were in this body, but I didn’t want to say it. We had enough to worry about, didn’t we?” He turned and looked at me, and quite suddenly he smiled. In a low stunned voice he said, “You’re looking at a man you know from the inside out.”
“No, not really,” I said. “Tell me, how do you deal with the perception of strangers … those who don’t guess. Do women invite you into their bedrooms? What about young men?”
He looked out to the sea, and there was a little bitterness in his face suddenly. “You know the answer. I can’t make a vocation of those encounters. They mean nothing to me. I don’t say I haven’t enjoyed a few safaris into the bedroom. I have more important things to do, Lestat, far more important things to do.
“There are places I want to go—lands and cities I always dreamt I would visit. Rio is only the beginning. There are mysteries I must solve; things I must find out.”
“Yes, I can imagine.”
“You said something very important to me when we were together last. You said, surely you won’t give the Talamasca this life too. Well, I won’t give it to them. What’s paramount in my mind is that I must not waste it. That I must do something of absolute importance with it. Of course