Trio in Rio

Chapter Two

"Louis, I'm here. Can you hear me? Louis?"

"David?" Louis asked. His voice came out as a raspy whisper.

"Yes, Louis, it's David. How do you feel?"

"David, I cannot see in this darkness, is there a light?"

David looked upward at the burning lamp. He looked back to Louis. "Don't try now. Don't strain yourself. Close your eyes. We should get you off this floor, the bed is much softer," David said. He was covering his worry. Blind? Could Louis be blind? Was that even possible? His mind consumed with this thought, David laid his hand down beside Louis's shoulder, gently beginning to lift it.

"DON'T!" Louis screamed, forcing his voice through his tortured throat. "Don't touch me!"

David pulled back immediately. "Alright, Louis, alright. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Louis was breathing in short gasps now. "Oh God . . . the nightmare . . . David, the burning, what happened? Lestat? Mon Dieu, I cannot . . ." Louis lay panting, opening his eyes as wide as possible, straining to see.

"Louis, you were burned. I didn't understand the difference between our tolerances. I thought since I was yet a very new vampire, perhaps we would be closer to comparable than we are. It was my mistake, Louis. I thought we had at least until the sun reached the horizon. You were exposed to the light. I haven't the words to atone for it. I wish it were me instead of you, Louis, I truly do." David realized he was rambling a bit. He took a deep breath. "Lestat will be back shortly. We are in Rio. Lestat says you will heal. The pain will lessen, and you will be well. It took him perhaps three nights, but he had been exposed to full sun for an entire day. We will keep you as comfortable as we can and this will all be over soon."

Louis's eyes searched frantically for something he could see. "I thought it was a nightmare. It was too late. I couldn't find the ground to dig. Someone . . . something . . .I was fighting it. I couldn't get away. There was pain. It was peeling my skin away. And it was Lestat. And then it was the other Lestat, singing to me. I couldn't tell if he was hurting me or something else. I was in a trap. He was there. He was talking to me, but he wouldn't help me get out." Louis took a breath. "David?"

"I'm here Louis."

"David, please, take it off of me, on my skin, it's like sand paper. It's cold, it burns. Please, David." Louis couldn't say what he was thinking. Suddenly the words wouldn't come. He hoped David could understand.

"Yes, Louis. I will," David said, lifting the remaining towels and ice from Louis's skin. "Is that better?"

"Better," Louis repeated. "Lestat?"

"Lestat isn't here, Louis. He will be soon. He'll be here soon, Louis," David reassured him.

Louis seemed to relax a bit, he closed his eyes. "My eyes are burning. Thirsty. I want to drink. Bloodthirst."

"I know, Louis. I understand. When Lestat returns we will feed you. I don't want to leave you alone," David explained.

"No, don't feed me, you and Lestat, non, non, don't!" Louis moaned.

"No Louis, not from ourselves. Don't worry. I know you don't want that. It's alright, Louis," David promised.

"No blood, David please no, no Lestat, non. I don't want it." Louis finally got the sentence out.

"I know, Louis, I know. I won't and Lestat won't. Rest easy, Louis."

Louis quieted and his face twisted into a tight grimace. "Lestat!" he called through clenched teeth. "Lestat!"

"I'm with you, beautiful one." Lestat appeared at Louis's side. David hadn't even heard him enter.

"Lestat!" Louis exclaimed with relief.

"Oui, mon cheri. I told you I wouldn't leave you. I've brought you something . . .something to drink." Lestat went out into the other room.

"David?" Louis asked, apprehensively.

"He won't, Louis, it's alright. Trust him, Louis," David told him.

Lestat returned with a dazed looking teenager in his arms. She was dressed in ragged jeans and nothing else. Lestat knelt down and bared her throat , he held her just above Louis's lips, not quite touching him. There was a pause, and then Louis lunged up and sunk his fangs into her, pulling deep draughts from her.

"Good, Louis, " Lestat said, "very good. Drink deep."

Louis had drained her in less than ten minutes. Lestat pulled her from Louis's mouth.

"The heart's about to stop, cher, no more now."

Louis made a cry of protest as Lestat pulled the girl from his mouth. Blood ran over his chin and down his neck. David reached to staunch the flow and his eyes met Lestat's over the body. David gave him a warm smile. Lestat lowered his eyes. He was ashamed to have his bluff called. Especially by his own fledgling. But David had always been able to do that, hadn't he, even from that first meeting. He couldn't fool David. He hated that.

David took the corpse. "I'll go and dispose of this, and I'll pick up the bags."

Lestat touched his arm. "In a moment." He turned to Louis. "Louis, we're going to lift you off this floor and put you on the bed."

"NO!" Louis panicked. "Don't touch me! Don't!"

"Shh, Louis , calm down." Lestat said reprovingly. "Don't make such a fuss. You'll be much more comfortable on the bed. Don't worry, all of the windows will be covered."

"Non, Lestat, don't lift me, don't touch my skin! I cannot stand it!"

"Louis, I know. Believe me cher, I know. But it will only hurt for an instant. Now be quiet." Lestat looked at David and nodded toward the bed. David stood, opened the door wide and went to pull the covers down off of the bed.

"Lestat, don't please." Louis begged, his voice breaking. He was exhausted, he was in pain, the thirst was consuming, he just couldn't take any more.

Lestat sighed. "Louis, listen to me. I know the agony you are in. I know the intensity of it. And the last thing in the world I want to do is frighten you or hurt you more. But I am going to touch you. We cannot leave you here. It isn't safe. We are going to have to let housekeeping into this room, and better tonight than tomorrow morning. We can cover you on the bed. There is no explanation for you lying here on the floor. So we will move you to the bed. And you must not scream or yell. We have already had a visit from security due to your noise. Now I am going to lift you and carry you to the bed. And you are going to behave. Do you understand?"

Louis didn't answer at first. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Then, in a steady whisper he said, "Yes." He tensed his body. He heard Lestat move closer. He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He felt Lestat's hands touch him. He gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath.

Lestat folded Louis into his arms as quickly as he could and got him through the door and on to the bed. "Louis, it's over."

Louis released a long shuddering breath. Tears had filled his eyes. "Merci, Lestat," He whispered.

David pulled a thin sheet over him. The combination of the blood and the pain of being carried made this light weight tolerable against his skin. "Is this more comfortable, dear boy?"

"Oui." Louis breathed. "but please, David, light a lamp. The night is too thick and I cannot see."

"You can't see!" Lestat reacted angrily.

"Lestat . . ." David began.

Lestat grabbed the lamp at Louis's bedside. He tore off the shade and threw it to the floor. He held the bare bulb to Louis's eyes. The light reflected there, showing a deep brilliant green. "Louis, what do you see?"

"Nothing. It's all darkness," Louis answered. "What is wrong?"
"Lestat." David gave a quick negative shake of his head. Lestat stared at David, but stayed silent. The room was tense. Finally, the silence was broken by Louis's calm whisper.

"The light is on, isn't it." It wasn't a question. He knew. But neither wanted to confirm it for him.

"Isn't it, David?" Louis pressed quietly.
"Yes," David replied slowly.

"It's only temporary," Lestat burst out quickly. "You'll heal Louis."

Louis closed his eyes and sighed wearily.

"David, please dispose of that," Lestat said in a low voice, pointing to the girl who had been deposited in a heap on the floor. David nodded. He opened the window, looked to Louis, then took up the body and flew into the night with it.

Lestat stood still and thought of Louis's eyes. He remembered the wonder in them that first night when he was staring at moonlight and buttons and trees as if they were magical things. He had always loved the light that would flare in them when Louis was angry. He loved the way they would spark and flash when Louis would describe a beautiful piece of art, or a good book or anything that ignited his passion. He remembered the pure feeling in them when they met together in Carmel Valley. He remembered how cold and lifeless they had looked to him when he was in the mortal body. Glittering jewels, he had thought at the time. Louis's eyes . . .his beautiful emerald eyes . . .

"Lestat?" Louis asked.

"Yes, cher," Lestat answered, coming to the bed.

"I thought you might have gone," Louis said. His voice was stronger, a bit more than a whisper now.
"No, my darling, I won't leave you," Lestat said kindly.

"David feels guilty," Louis said.

Lestat slowly sat on the edge of the bed carefully. "It was a mistake, Louis."

"Yes, I know," Louis answered.

"You must forgive him. His new powers, his reunion with me and his haste to get to Rio, these all conspired against him, Louis. He was caught off guard, without preparation. He has gone so quickly from the elderly mortal who can almost hear his own death rattle, to a suddenly young robust mortal with many long years ahead, to an almost indestructible immortal, it confuses him. He cannot get his bearings. He cannot gauge his own powers and limitations, much less anyone else's. Louis," Lestat said with a grin, "He is only 76."

"It's my own fault, of course," Louis told him. "This is what I get for putting myself in the hands of James Bond and Indiana Jones."

Lestat laughed. Louis sense of humor showed at the oddest times. He wanted so to kiss Louis. He despised the thought that he couldn't.

"Do you forgive him, Lestat?" Louis asked.

"Yes, of course I do," Lestat answered.

"As do I."

Lestat was relieved to hear it. Hopefully it wouldn't become a standard issue to be brought up during terrible fights when it could cause the most terrible pain, as so many other incidents were. "Are you feeling any better?" Lestat asked.

"Yes . . .better since . . .since I fed," Louis answered.

"The blood helps the healing," Lestat told him.

A look of uncertainty crossed Louis's face. " . . .Lestat?"

"What Louis?"

"Could . . .would you . . .is it possible for me to . . .drink again tonight?" Louis asked, hating to want such a thing.

"You want me to bring you more?" Lestat asked.

Louis's face betrayed the guilt he felt. "Yes."
"It's alright Louis. Yes, I'll bring you more, but not too much I should think. You don't need to be ill on top of all of this," Lestat answered. "After David returns, I'll go out again."

"No," Louis said. "I'd rather if we could . . .finish it, before David returns."

"I don't want to leave you alone, Louis. It isn't safe."

"Please Lestat. Please, you can do it quickly, I know you can."

"Alright, Louis, if you wish."

Lestat went to the window, pulled himself out and dropped soundlessly to the ground. He scanned the thoughts around him. He located an elderly man, poor, drunk and dancing in the streets with no shoes on, because he owned none. He was small, perhaps 5'2. Lestat centered on him, grabbed him up quickly and was back in the hotel room within five minutes. Lestat had grabbed him by the throat, choking him to unconsciousness, so that he was limp and quiet. Lestat took him to Louis and pushed the thin skin over his jugular up to Louis's mouth.

Louis moaned softly and bit deeply into the vein. The blood filled his mouth and ran down his throat in a cooling flood. Lestat held his finger on the pulse point of the mortal's wrist. As the heartbeat slowed, he let Louis drink as long as he could, but eventually he knew he had to pull the man away. In Louis's weakened state, he thought it might be dangerous for him to drink to the death.

Lestat reached under the man's neck to pull him out of Louis's mouth without jerking Louis's head up. In doing so, his fingers wandered a bit too close to Louis's fangs and he nicked himself on the sharp point. A few tiny drops of his blood fell into Louis's mouth before the wound closed. Louis gave a small cry of pleasure when the droplets hit his tongue, but remained unaware of what had happened.

Lestat did entertain the idea of forcing his wrist to Louis's mouth, but then he abandoned it. He didn't want to think about why he was abandoning it, he simply pushed it out of his mind. While Louis was still in the swoon, Lestat took the body out and dropped in the nearest river.

Louis felt the blood spreading out through his body, and it was not the familiar surge up and down through his veins and arteries, though that was there as well. This was more delicate and sweet. He could feel the blood enter each tiny capillary, enlivening every cell with its rich sensation. His mind swirled with images of Carnaval, images of dancing and singing, the colorful costumes, the beautiful people, and somehow, within in it, was Lestat, and David and himself. But these images flashed and careened wildly. Lestat was standing on the stage, singing, but the stage was in a Samba Parade. David changed quickly from his vampire self to his mortal self and then back again, and all the while dancing in the street. Louis saw himself; mortal, vampire, child, man, seemingly all at the same time. He was a child and with Lestat, running through a cold and barren wood to a burnt out clearing, but beyond the clearing were dancers in red spangles and pink feathers. And David with a gun, tall and young as a mortal, taking them both in his arms and carrying them away. And three of them laughing, and loving each other and speaking in English, and French and Portuguese and Louis could understand it all.

Memories and dreams, time and place, melded and twisted and crashed against each other. There was Lestat on the floor, bleeding and calling to him, and clearly the thought forms in his mind that Lestat won't kill her if he saves him. Lestat would never kill her. And so he rushes forth and pulls Lestat over his shoulder and runs to Lestat's room and flips open the coffin lid. He tends to the wounds. He feeds Lestat from himself. And she comes, and she is frightened and sorry and Lestat forgives her. And David comes and he picks her up and cradles her in his arms and she is happy. They go out and it is Mardi Gras, but as they run joyously down the Rue Royale, he sees that they have run over the river and into Rio.

He sees David in Rio, but long ago, with Carlos, the lover he had described to Lestat. And they are dancing into the hotel, and preparing to go into the jungles. Louis reaches for Lestat's hand and tells him. Lestat is dressed in his finest blue silk frock coat and breeches, his golden hair tied back in a blue velvet ribbon, and he looks out of place as he runs to the hotel. Louis follows him, seeing himself briefly reflected in the glass of the hotel door. He is dressed as Lestat is, in the fashions of their century. Green velvet frock coat, embroidered with gold, silk breeches, white satin stockings, small leather shoes on his feet. They were dressed for a ball, for dancing. But Louis saw that he was not so pale, and not so . . . he smiled, no fangs! Lestat reached back for him and pulled him into the hotel. They ran to David's room and Lestat pulled the door off of it's hinges. But Carlos was not there. 'I know.' David told them, laughing at the unhinged door. 'I know it all. Don't worry, they will not trap me again in their hallowed halls! Come let us find the tiger!'

Lestat is laughing as well and he embraces Louis and kisses him full on the mouth for hours.
But then it is David kissing him. Then breaking off the kiss, hugging him, and then pulling him along. 'Come, Louis, the tiger!' David says excitedly.

Louis sees that they are moving toward Pointe du Lac but there is no oratory, and his father is standing at the door. In his arms are two blond boys, both beautiful and robust. David reaches the doors first and his father smiles at him.

'Davide.' Louis's father smiles.

David kisses his father and takes one boy. He is Paul. Perfect and whole and impossibly sweet as he always had been.

Louis reaches his father and kisses him.

'Louis, mon fils, this is Lestat." His father says, handing Louis the other child. Louis stares down into his eyes and indeed it is Lestat. His large grey eyes are innocently dancing and his smile is pure and without irony or malice. 'His father was . . .not suited to family life.' Louis's father explained, decorously. "And so he has come to be with us. He was born in France, as you were. He is the son of Le Marquis d'Avergne. He is precious and precocious.' Louis's father laughs. 'I want you to take special charge of him and keep him safe.'

'From his father, Papa?' Louis asks.

'Non, Louis, mon coeur.' His father smiles proudly. 'You have already killed his father. You know that.' Then he looks out toward the fields. 'Ah, look mes petits, the Bandas have come!"

And they have, they come as a wave, covering the fields, thousands of them. And the music is so thrilling and so overwhelming. It washes through Louis and seems to raise him up off of his feet and into the heavens. He is in ecstasy, free, unafraid and gloriously happy.

Then he begins to float down, closer to the ground. The music is fading and seems to come from a distance now. He is uncomfortable and he wants to move. He realizes the darkness has descended again, and no matter how hard he strains, he can see nothing. The pain grows more noticeable. The swoon is over. He hears the door open. He tenses for a moment.

"Relax Louis, it is only David," Lestat told him.

David entered the room pulling a luggage cart piled high with their bags. "Lestat, did you make the other arrangements you mentioned before?"

"Yes, but we need not change accommodations until tomorrow night," Lestat said, coming and pulling down one of the suitcases.

"Where are we going?" Louis asked.

"The penthouse suite," Lestat told him. "Just six floors up."

"Why?" Louis asked.

"Why?" Lestat answered him. "Look around you, Louis, do these look like the surroundings of the Vampire Lestat? There isn't even room to turn around in here."

Louis said nothing. David stared at Lestat.

"What is the matter with you, David?" Lestat asked in annoyance.

David's mouth hardened. He waved his hand in front of his eyes and pointed to Louis, indicating 'He can't see.'

Lestat closed his eyes and grimaced in pain. "Louis?"

"It's alright." Louis answered.

"Besides," David said, "someone seems to have broken the television."

Lestat ignored that last comment and commenced to change his clothing. David watched him for a minute and then did the same. The only sounds in the room were the faint rustling of garments, the zippers being pulled and clicking locks of the luggage. It wore on Louis nerves. It was tense and unnatural. It made him too aware his lack of sight. He tried to think of other things. He came to the somewhat horrifying realization that he was not clothed, himself . . .at all. He thought about asking Lestat or David to bring him his case, and then thought that as he couldn't even sit up, how did he expect to dress himself? Of course, Lestat or David would help him if he asked. Suddenly nearly 700 things he would rather ask for invaded his mind; these included a request to be doused with tobasco sauce and rolled in hot tar. Come to think of it, covering his skin with clothing right now, would probably be a very similar experience. Still no one was talking.

"What time is it?" Louis asked.

David looked at his watch and did a quick calculation in his head. "It must be near midnight here, I should think."

"It is Friday here?" Louis asked him.

"Yes, nearly Saturday," David told him.

"So you still have time," Louis said.

"Time for what, cher?" Lestat asked with concern.

"To go out. To see Rio before Carnaval proper starts. I believe that was the purpose of this visit, was it not?" Louis answered him.


"Not tonight, Louis," David said.
"You don't need to keep watch over me," Louis said. "The windows can be covered, can they not?"

"Yes," Lestat answered him. "But it wouldn't be safe to leave you here alone, cheri."

Louis was about to answer as a knock came at the door. "Housekeeping," said a female voice.

Lestat crossed the room and answered the door. David quickly pulled the heavy blanket and bedspread over Louis. Louis winced. David stroked his hair lightly in apology.

Lestat had admitted the woman. She went immediately to the bathroom. At the sight of fourteen or so towels lying on the floor, soaking wet, she exclaimed something in Portuguese that described tourists in general and their unwholesome sexual habits in particular. She exited the bathroom with a furious glance at David, who was a bit stunned, and at Lestat, who was trying to hide his laughter, but not trying very hard. She pulled her laundry hamper in from the hall and angrily threw the towels into it, while making rather rude comments about their parentage. She mopped up the water and changed the other towels in the bathroom. Coming back into the room with David and Lestat she demanded, in English, "How did you get all these towels here?"

Lestat gave her a blank look and turned to David. "What do you think of this color on me?" he asked in classical French.

"Hideous, brings out the blue in your skin," David answered him in Italian, looking toward the bathroom and shrugging.

Lestat turned back to the woman. "Perhaps the buttonhooks." He suggested in the old Creole dialect he had learned from Louis.

The woman pulled a wet towel out of the hamper and spoke very loudly and slowly. "THESE TOWELS. HERE. HOW?" She pointed to the bathroom floor.

David looked as if he had just understood her meaning. "Ah, it cannot be without the sauerbraten." He told Lestat in German. Louis was biting his lips, painful as it was, and trying to look asleep.

Lestat smiled and nodded to the woman. "Do not operate machinery while taking this drug," Lestat explained to her in modern French.

The woman stared at them. Valiantly she tried once more. "TOWELS!" she said shaking one in her fist.

"Zima," Lestat said nodding to David.

"Altoids," David agreed. They smiled at the woman.

Thinking she had gotten this concept through to them, she went on to the next one. "FLOOR." She said walking to the bathroom doorway and kneeling and smacking the floor with her hand.

"Should I just confuse her mind and get rid of her, or are you still having fun?" Lestat asked David in French, looking seriously at the floor.

"You know you are really only speaking a lower class gutter form of Latin," David answered in Latin, looking at the woman and rubbing his chin, thoughtfully.

"YES, FLOOR." The woman said. " HOW DID THE TOWELS," she shook a towel, "GET ON THE FLOOR?" She threw a towel to the floor in explanation and frustration.

"You are enflaming me with passion," David told her Polish while politely retrieving the towel and handing it to her.

She took the towel and looked from one to the other. They smiled and nodded. She sighed deeply and swore some more in Portuguese as she rolled the hamper back out into the hall, slamming the door behind her.

Louis was shaking with laughter. Lestat pulled the covers down off of him, leaving the sheet. David collapsed onto the other bed and laughed. Lestat walked over to the bathroom, and in a quick motion knelt down and slapped the floor. "FLOOR!" he demanded.

David curled up with laughter and in the process rolled off of the bed. Lestat fell over in giggles.

This mayhem lasted perhaps ten minutes, perhaps longer, but finally it did wear itself out, leaving them all with smiles and an overall feeling of camaraderie that has been lost in the tense atmosphere before.

"As I was saying," Louis continued. "As long as you cover the windows and lock the door, I don't see why the two of you cannot go."

"Oh, Louis, are you trying to get rid of us?" Lestat teased.

"Yes," Louis said. "Desperately."

"We aren't wanted," David smiled at Lestat.

Lestat sighed dramatically. "How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!"

"King Lear act 1, scene 4," Louis recited. "Now exuent."

"Louis, how positively insolent!" Lestat said with mock horror.

"Lestat, really, what are you going to do in here all night? Stare at me? Nothing is going to happen. And to be honest I'd rather like to go to sleep. So, please, just go," Louis said. His voice was getting much better. It sounded almost normal.

"Louis, are you certain?" David asked.

"Yes, absolutely," Louis answered him.

"David, I'm not going anywhere," Lestat said seriously.

"David, please?" Louis asked politely.

"Well, Lestat, I do see his point. No one else will come in here this evening. We can cover the windows, lock the doors and hook the chain mentally from the hallway, that way no one can get in. If he'd really rather have some quiet, perhaps we should," David said.

"Merci, David," Louis thanked him.

"No," Lestat answered. "Louis if you want to sleep, then sleep. We won't disturb you."

"But Lestat, why?" Louis asked. "There is no reason."

"Because you are blind and helpless, that is the reason," Lestat hadn't yet raised his voice, but he was fighting his temper.

Trio in Rio - Chapter Three

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