Armand leaned in closer towards Jamie.
He gazed into her eyes, and what he saw surprised him. Her eyes were
wary, yet not unfriendly. She simply returned his gaze, with an equal
amount of curiosity. He was aware though that she was a little confused,
and he sensed that there was absolutely no fear present in her. She
asked him, in her soft voice, "Armand, what is it you want?"
He considered this a moment, unsure of his
answer. He was so used to taking what he wanted, that this subtle
acquiescence on her part was unbalancing him a bit. What did he want?,
he asked himself. Did he simply want to drive his fangs into her
throat and uncover all of her secrets, whether she was willing or not?
No, he thought to himself. Daniel would never forgive me, and Lestat
would probably kill me. With an inward smile, he knew exactly how
much Lestat was fascinated with this mortal.
What amazed him was the way she really looked
at him. She looked at him as if what he wanted mattered very much
to her. This really floored him. Even though he could not read
her thoughts, he could definitely sense that she wanted to befriend him,
and that she wanted absolutely nothing from him. Even Daniel, during
the chase and the aftermath, had always wanted something from him.
Usually, what he wanted was the immortal "gift." Armand felt that
Daniel had never understood how it nearly destroyed him to bestow this
existence upon him, even though Armand couldn't have borne it if Daniel
had died during the Akasha fiasco or as a result of his excessive drinking.
Of all of the others in the coven, Armand
knew that Lestat was the only one who truly understood him and his feelings.
Yes, they fought at times, well, most of the time, actually. But
at the same time, Lestat was the one who never pressed in on him, demanding
answers. And now, he found another one who wouldn't demand answers
that he couldn't give. This very reason was what kept him from taking
her right now.
But as soon as he realized this, he realized
something else. He wanted to know what Lestat and Daniel knew.
With surprise, he wanted to know what she was like in bed. It had
been a very long time since he felt something so elementary. He lifted
his hand, and ran his finger along her jawline. He noticed that her
eyes had darkened and that her breathing had become shallow. "Well?"
she asked softly, "what is it you wanted to know about me?"
Then he dropped his hand from her face and
backed away from her. She seemed to relax some, now that he wasn't
quite so close. "I can't," he said more to himself than Jamie.
"What's the matter?" she asked him.
"I want to make love to you, cara, but I cannot
do it," he said, "I cannot do that to Daniel."
Jamie smiled at him. She closed the
distance between them and rested her palm against his cheek. She
responded, "That's quite all right, Armand. That wasn't really the
reason why you came to visit me, is it?"
Surprised by her insight, he nodded.
"You're quite correct," he responded, "I really wanted to come talk to
you about Daniel. I want to know why the way he is at times."
"Do you have about 50 years?" she joked.
He grinned and said, "Well, actually, as a
matter of fact, I do."
She laughed heartily, "Well, then, come into
the living room, and we'll talk. We can sit more comfortably there."
"As you wish," Armand said, and followed her
out of the bedroom.
I seriously thought that Armand was going to
kiss me for a second there, and was I relieved when he backed off.
Not that I would have objected to it by any means, but we did have to consider
Daniel's feelings about the matter. If Daniel didn't object, well,
then....but right now, no. It could not happen.
Armand followed me into the living room, and
we both sat down next to each other on the sofa. "So, Armand," I
said, "what exactly do you want to know?"
"Everything," he said simply.
"Well," I said, "a little shocked. That's
quite a lot of territory....is there anything specific in that 'everything'?"
He appeared a little frustrated. He
muttered to himself, almost too low for me to hear. "If I could only
read you....I could get my answers that way."
I asked him, "What do you mean, read me?
I thought you people were telepathic, or empathic, or whatever the hell
it's called."
He looked at me, "As a rule, we are, with
a few exceptions." At my questioning look, he continued, "Well, fledglings
cannot hear the thoughts of their makers, and vice versa. Also, if
one of us puts up a shield, he or she cannot send or receive thoughts."
"That's pretty neat," I said, "but you muttered
something about not being able to read me? Why is that?
He leveled a look at me, and said, "That is
something that I want to know myself, but sometimes there are mortals who
can naturally shield themselves without even realizing it."
I asked him, "I am like that then?"
And when he nodded, I continued, "How would you usually go about reading
someone?"
"We drink their blood, of course. The
thoughts are present in the blood. That is when we are truly connected
with another creature. But, unfortunately, the person does not survive
the experience," he said bluntly.
Well, that startled me a bit. Unconsciously,
I put my hand up to my throat, and Armand noticed my gesture. He
smiled his seductive little smile, but refrained from commenting.
"Well, then," I said, "aside from drinking my blood, is there any other
way you could read me? I mean I would love to oblige you my blood,
but I'm pretty partial to it right now. You understand where I'm
coming from?"
He laughed, but then quickly sobered, as he
considered my question. "There might be a way,"
he mused.
"Well?" I asked, "what is it? What can
you do?"
He looked at me, and said, "Jamie, cara, look
directly into my eyes, and let yourself completely relax."
"Is it sort of like hypnotism, because if
it is, I've never been able to be hypnotized," I said.
"Just do it," he urged, calmly, "just look
into my eyes."
I did as he instructed. I gazed into
those beautiful smoky-brown eyes of his and I felt myself go completely
liquid. Distantly, I was amazed that this had actually worked, but
then I sensed something pressing in on my mind. That I could actually
sense the intrusion astonished me, but then I heard Armand's distant voice,
"Relax, cara.... Let me in."
His voice was so alluring that I had no choice
but to acquiesce to his desire to enter my mind. And then suddenly,
he was there.
{{{Can you hear me?}}}
Armand thought at me.
{{{Yes, I can, Armand}}},
I thought back at him.
{{{Good, good.
Now just relax and let me do the work.}}}
Armand found himself linked to this creature
that had so fascinated him since that first night in New Orleans.
Deep inside his own thoughts, he was laughing with a delighted humor.
Lestat would probably kill to be in his position. But he had other
things to discover first. He then directed both his and her thoughts
towards Daniel.
Daniel--the one who connected them both.
He gasped as he felt the full force of her feelings for his own beloved.
He followed as her memory flashed back to the night that she was told that
he had died.
 (Jamie's
memory) Approximately twenty years earlier...
I looked at the clock, and I was becoming more
and more concerned. Daniel had said that he would be home by 10pm,
and now it was after 2am. Where was he? I had so much
to tell him. I smiled as I recalled what the doctor had told
me today. Now if he would just get himself home, I thought.
I heard a knock on the front door, and my
blood ran cold. Nothing ever good came out of late-night visits.
I walked to the door and opened it. I almost burst into tears when
I saw the police officer standing on the other side. He didn't have
to say a word. I knew that Daniel was either hurt or dead, and I
couldn't bear either option.
"Is the Molloy residence?" the police officer
asked.
"Yes, it is. I'm Mrs. Molloy," I responded.
"Ma'am, I hate to be the one to have to say
this, but I'm afraid your husband has been killed tonight. He was
in an automobile accident," he said, sorrowfully.
I was too devastated to even cry. I said,
numbly, "I want to see the body."
He looked uncertain. "Uh, ma'am, you
don't want to do that. He was pretty messed up."
"I HAVE to see him," I insisted.
"Well, ma'am, I can't let you see the body,
but I am allowed to let you view the pictures the coroner took," he said.
"Fine, then," I said, "Let's go."
The
Present...
Armand watched as Jamie suffered through Daniel's
funeral, and the consequent rebuilding of her life. Then he watched
as nine months later, she give birth to Daniel's children. He saw
how she first gave birth to a daughter, Michelle Jamie Molloy Stephens,
and then a son, Michael Daniel Molloy Stephens.
Armand then watched as Jamie remembered how
they became a team against the outside world, with only a few outsiders
being allowed into their realm. He watched as Michelle grew up in the image
of her mother. But his heart twisted as he saw that Michael was the
mirror image of his father.
Through the link, I showed Armand all that
happened in my and my children's lives after Daniel's "death." I
allowed him to experience the agony and loneliness that I had felt every
day that Daniel was gone.
{{{But I'm not angry,
Armand. Believe me when I say this.}}}
{{{How can that be?
I took him away from you and your children.}}}
{{{I know that Armand,
but he's been so happy with you. I cannot grudge you that.}}}
{{{But it hasn't always
been good Cara...}}}
And then the link turned two-way. He
showed me all that had happened to he and Daniel over the years.
He showed me their initial meeting in Lestat's old house in New Orleans.
He showed me how he had imprisoned Daniel for three days with no food,
drink, or anything. He showed me the chase, the seduction, and Daniel's
ultimate conversion to the Dark way. {{{See
how evil I am?}}}
{{{Armand, if you were
truly as evil as you think you are, you would not be experiencing this
agony.}}}
He practically shouted in my mind, {{{BUT
THAT'S NOT ALL OF IT! That's what I'm trying to show you.}}}
He then poured everything into me—from his childhood in Russia, his experiences
in the whorehouse, his love affair with Marius and his conversion to vampirism,
his kidnapping by the Children of Darkness and the dark years in between;
his re-emergence to the world via his interaction with Lestat; and his
time with Louis.
I wept as these images flowed into my mind.
{{{You may think you're evil after all of this, but
you're not. You're 500 years old, yes, but in your heart, you're
still a young boy. You're very much human, but you just don't let
anyone know that you still have a human heart.}}}
He was astonished and amused at my words and
feelings, and I felt it through the link. {{{You
still think I'm human? No one thinks I'm human and Lestat would have
one of his god-forsaken laughing fits at that.}}}
Just then another presence broke into the
link. {{{I wouldn't be too sure of that, Armand,
my friend.}}}
.............Lestat.
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