This Holiday Season
Part Two
Armand had been thinking of his young ones, his Benjy and his Sybelle. This would be their first Christmas as independently wealthy immortal bloodsuckers. How he longed to spend it with them, but each night the tragedy of their young lives cut short dragged him more and more deeply into despair.
Fragile Sybelle had been engulfed by her love of the Appassionata, one could have said she was obsessed as a mortal, but now there was no doubt. She had ordered pianos of every shape and size. There were now seven in the massive building Armand had been forced to purchase in the heart of Manhattan, and more on the way, no doubt. She played the Appassionata on each piano successively all night, every night and they had been evicted from apartment complexes and even neighborhoods, until finally Armand purchased a lavish hotel, the size of one city block and ten stories high, had the entire building thoroughly soundproofed, and then moved them in. No complaints so far.
Sybelle no longer had to bathe or change her clothes, and so there was no reason for her to leave her piano. She left home only to feed, which she and Benjy both did early every night, as soon as possible upon waking, in fact. Sybelle fed voraciously, with no regard for her victim. She didn't have the interest to wait for those who wanted to die, so Armand called one for her. As soon as she saw the victim she grabbed the living flesh, sunk her teeth into the nearest artery without preamble, and sucked the mortal dry within seconds. She could not be made to dispose of the body, and set up unearthly wailing sobs if Armand tried to force her to do so. So, that chore fell to him and Benjy, while she returned to her pianos.
Benjy, however, never returned after the first kill of the night. That one was only to sate his appetite enough so that he could be among mortals, and it gave him the rosy glow of life so that he did not look too out of place. The rest of his night was spent in flirting with his potential victims, playing with them. Benjy had no specific preference between men and women, but they must be rich and powerful. This was dangerous and called too much undue attention, which Armand had explained to the young boy again and again, but Benjamin had an argument for all of his reasons.
"Who cares if they know, Armand, what can they do to me?" He would laugh, his brown eyes dancing in amusement, "Don't you see, Dybbuk, I WANT them to know! I want them to see that there is something out there much stronger than they, and that all of their money and their power cannot protect them! I want it to be the topic of conversation in their underworld meetings and at their charity balls!"
Benjy had already acquired a human slave. He was a wealthy young lawyer on the payroll of a major crime syndicate, and he was completely enthralled by exotic little Benjy. He wanted to spend every night with Benjy, and benjy loved to refuse him, so that the pathetic mortal would beg and plead and ply with gifts; solid gold watches, paper roses folded from 100 dollar bills and fine cheroots. Why had Armand once again been attracted to a child who smoked? Ah well, no matter. It saddened Armand to see how they reacted to their new vampiric lives. If only they'd had time to grow and mature, if only Marius had let them be. They still loved him, yes, and he still loved them, but it wasn't enough. Armand had had dreams for them, for Sybelle's future as a concert pianist, for Benjy's education and eventual profession. He still couldn't break free of envisioning them as adults, moving in the daylight world with the ease and grace of those who had all they wanted, and to whom every door was open.
But it was never to be, Sybelle would never be a full and beautiful woman, who might be an inspiration to musicians everywhere, young and old. She was stuck as a young girl, a sylph, without influence or strength. Benjamin would never be a charming and handsome man, moving in the circles of the rich and powerful as an envied peer and a respected equal. He was stunted as a precocious child, with a child's voice, manner and bearing, and would never bee seen as anything but a gifted and intelligent scamp, playing grown-up. How soon would this realization settle on them? What would they do then? If only Marius had more patience!
But of course, he never had, had he? He'd made Pandora soon after meeting up with her in Antioch. He'd given Armand, his Amadeo, a taste of his blood long before Armand had any idea of what it may lead to. Marius, whom everyone saw as a paragon of reason and patience, was in fact most reckless and impatient. How could he have left Lestat alone in the house with Those Who Must Be Kept? He KNEW Lestat, and knew that the brat would be unable to resist the temptation! He hadn't even been able to stop himself from feeding on the simple mortal who'd agreed to record Lestat's videos for him. He had no self-control, it was only that Marius, with his mortal maturity and infusions of the oldest blood, was almost always able to cover his mistakes. And Marius was always attracted to the beauty of children. Not a predator, no never, but he enjoyed their company, their look and their presence; 10 year old Lydia, his Chaldean boy-child slaves, all of the Venetian boys, Amadeo himself, Sybelle, Benjy. In his mortal household, he'd been the tallest being half Celtic, and probably the brightest, but he'd loved his smaller Roman brothers and sisters, possibly even loved teaching them and helping to care for them in a brotherly way, the way he'd cared for Akasha and Enkil later. Was it his early mortal years, when he was spoiled and beloved, that he was constantly, even now, trying to recreate?
Perhaps Marius would also answer Louis and Lestat's invitation, as he had, and then he might be able to ask his maker such a question, if he had the audacity. He mentally checked on his young ones, they were well and safe. It was due to this telepathic connection, for which he had Marius to thank, that he was able to overcome his qualms about leaving them. He wished he still had that contact with his Daniel, his first-born, who he sorely missed. Perhaps Daniel might come as well, and he could see him once more. If only they could come together once again.
"Armand?"
Ah, the familiar comfort of that soft voice.
"Yes, caro?" Armand turned to see the beautific face of Louis.
"Are you well?"
A silly question, but polite. Louis didn't sit, though it was his own garden, because Armand hadn't invited him to, such were his manners. "Why do you ask?"
"You seemed a bit preoccupied."
"Did I?"
"Well, yes, I wondered if perhaps you'd like to come inside, or if you wanted something?"
"What could I possibly want, Louis? A brandy? A small sandwich? A nice walk in the sun?" Armand was being nasty without wanting too. He was hurting Louis and he didn't know why.
Louis absorbed the barbs without comment and returned to the house.
Armand watched Louis go, regretting his actions, but unable to make the effort at apologizing. Instead he lapsed back into his thoughts.
Louis felt himself swept up by an unstoppable force as he stepped from the kitchen into the parlour.
"Louis, Cheri! Mon Amour! Joyeaux Noël!"
Kisses fell all over his face and neck, he was swung in circles and couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up out of him. "Lestat!"
"You must see what I've bought!" Lestat sang out, settling Louis back down on his feet.
"Heaven save me." Louis commented as Lestat took his hand and led him to the front hall.
There on the floor were bags and boxes of every size and shape. Spilling out of the packages was an explosion of shiny, sparkly plastic color; tinsel, foil garland, snowflakes, bright ribbons, giant candy canes, flashy reindeer, elves, snowmen, and every other commercialized Christmas symbol that could be punched out of a plastic mold.
Louis was speechless. "Oh," he finally said faintly, looking at all of the merchandise. "Oh, Lestat." And then he murmured, "Mon Dieu."
Lestat doubled up and fell over with mirth at the expression on Louis's face. He rolled on the floor, wrapping himself in red and silver garlands. Gasping for breath, he held his hand out to Louis to be helped up. Knowing the trick, Louis folded his arms and shook his head at Lestat. So Lestat was forced to pull Louis's legs out from under him, catching him as he fell to the floor. Before Louis could protest, Lestat wrapped a shiny green garland around his neck.
"Goes so well with your eyes, mon beau." Lestat said in a low voice.
Louis surprised Lestat by wrapping his arms and legs around his blond maker and putting his lips to Lestat's ear. "Tu es mon joli diable."
Lestat snuggled even closer to his fledgling and kissed his mouth, "Precious darling."
Louis tickled Lestat's jugular vein with the tips of his fangs, "Tomcat," he whispered the endearment so softly that it was only audible to Lestat's acute vampiric hearing.
A shock of lust went through Lestat at the sound of that private name, he thrust his tongue into Louis's mouth. Louis accepted it and greedily sucked it deeper in. They remained entangled in the kiss for several long minutes. They finally separated with a groan, when they needed air.
"Now Lis-Lis, I know that we agreed to decorate together, and we WILL, but this was SHOPPING! And you know how you hate shopping." Lestat brushed his lips against Louis's.
"But Statchat, this is so crass," Louis answered, but the words held no anger, only amused resignation.
"Non, Lis, non, non, non, c'est magnifique! You shall make it so! Just wrap it all around your oranges and pine boughs and it will be tastefully stunning, just as you want it, believe me!" Lestat sat up and pulled a box of lights out of a nearby bag. "Don't tell me you don't love theeeeeeese!" He pulled a strand out and waved it in Louis's face.
Louis's emerald eyes widened in delight. One would think that they were ordinary Christmas lights until one got close enough to see the shape and the small cross embossed on one side. They were tiny coffins of clear plastic which glowed brightly in all colors when lit. Just the thing for a subtle and discreet practical joke, of the kind which Louis was famous.
"They'll be perfect for the wreath over the mantle!" Louis said, examining the lights.
"You see, you devious little imp! I knew you'd love them!"
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"May I enter?" Khayman called out.
"Silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmas time in the city," Daniel sang along with the piped in music as he and Marius waited for their luggage at the New Orleans Airport carousel. He jabbed Marius, "Sing!"
Marius grinned and shook his head. "No, I have trouble controlling the volume of my voice when I sing."
"Ah," Daniel frowned, "no self control, I should have known," then continued his singing. "City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style, in the air there's a feeling of Christmas."
Marius grabbed their bags as they appeared, and handed Daniel his. "Shall we find a taxi cab?"
"Hear the snow crush, see the kids rush, this is Santa's big day," Daniel nodded. They turned and walked to the terminal exit.
There, as always, was a line of cabs, limos and handicapped vans, waiting for their next passengers. Marius hailed one with a big red crawfish on the side and at least 25 strands of red and green Mardi Gras beads hanging from the rear view mirror. Marius wondered how it stayed attached to the windshield.
"Well, Nepote, would you like to stay at the town house or the orphanage?" Marius asked.
"Actually, Grandad, I think I'll hole up at the Dauphine Orleans instead," Daniel said nonchalantly, knowing that Marius wasn't going to like hearing it.
"Daniel! Don't you think that's a bit rude?"
"Four fifteen Dumaine, it's between St. Louis and Conti," Daniel said, handing the driver a fifty dollar bill.
"Yes sir!" She said, taking the money and pulling out into the stream of traffic leaving the airport.
"Daniel, they'll be expecting us, I already contacted Lestat."
"Look, you can do whatever you want, Marius, but I have some business that I need to attend to in private, before I dive into "Christmas Eve with the Bloodsucking Bickersons", all right?"
"Why must you always expect the worst of the Coven, Nepote?"
"Experience is a good teacher. I can tell you exactly what is going to happen. Everybody will be all smiles and kisses for about an hour, then Louis and Lestat will get into a little tiff, and everyone will be all up in arms over that, as if it isn't an everyday occurrence. Then everyone will separate off into their little groups. David will be trying to interrogate everyone, Louis will be trying to play the good host, making sure that everyone is comfortable, which is impossible. Jesse and Eric will start singing showtunes, and Santino will get jealous and take it out on Mael, if he is even there, or Lestat if he isn't or possibly Armand, who will be so involved with his little toy fledglings that he won't even notice. That is until Gabrielle starts in on him which will set off a whole other argument, and then YOU'LL get into the middle of that and try to calm everyone down, but in the process of doing that you and Pandora will end up in a knock-down drag-out and Khayman will finally have to step in and slap everybody around, mentally, if not physically, then Maharet will send us all to bed. And that is only assuming that everyone has the intelligence to keep their fangs out of anyone else's lover. Ya wanna hear round two?"
"Daniel, you're exaggerating and you're wrong." Marius stated. " . . .I am sure that Pandora and I will be fighting long before Jesse and Eric launch into the score of 'Gypsy'."
Daniel didn't laugh, which was a terribly bad sign.
"It's Armand, isn't it?" Marius asked quietly.
That earned him a violet glare which would freeze the blood of an ordinary mortal. It gave even Marius a bit of a chill. Daniel then pointedly turned to stare out the window, until they arrived at his hotel.
Daniel got out of the car and followed the driver to the trunk where the luggage was stored. After a few moments, Marius joined them as well.
"I think I'll stay as well, if you don't mind." Marius said to Daniel, politely. Daniel ignored him, gave the driver another fifty and walked into the Dauphine Orleans.
The night staff was upon them immediately, taking their bags and ushering them to the front desk.
"How many I help you?" asked the pretty little receptionist with the large blue eyes. He had just a trace of the distinctive New Orleans accent.
Daniel smiled at him. "Hi, I reserved the cottage suite."
The receptionist tapped a few keys on his computer. "Name sir?"
"Slater." Daniel reached for his wallet and took out a credit card.
"First name Chris?"
"That's me," Daniel handed him the card.
"Will the gentleman be staying as well?" Blue-eyes asked, looking at Marius.
Daniel turned and looked at him as well, his face was blank.
"Yes," Marius said, "I will."
The receptionist looked back at Daniel who gave a short nod. At that the card was run through and the keys handed over. "Enjoy your stay, gentlemen."
The porter led them to the cottage and left their luggage in the large room. Marius tipped him twenty dollars and sent him on his way.
"'Scuse me, Marius, I have some calls to make." With that Daniel shut himself into the master bedroom. Marius sighed and went out to feed.
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