*

Louis was reading by the hearth when it happened. The room had been cozy, but the winter winds were crafty in finding ways through the cracks in the house and slipping over him. Firelight was difficult to read by, but years of practice made it easier. His brother was furthest from his mind then.

Suddenly heavy cloth fell over his eyes, blinding him, while his book was knocked away so his hands could be wrenched behind his back. Thick, rough cord lashed his wrists together and cut into his skin. He cried out in surprise and someone slapped him, silencing him. Pushed to the floor, he couldn't struggle while his legs were bound tight. Strong hands picked him up and slung him over a shoulder.

Louis' mind raced as he was carried out into the night air. I didn't hear the door, he thought. What are they going to do? Who are they? Where are they taking me? He kept silent, though, knowing he would be hit again if he spoke.

Whoever carried him was crossing through the forest near his house. Louis heard twigs snapping underfoot, and low branches tore his clothes in places. Water rushed beneath them, and heavy footsteps fell on the wooden bridge that spanned the small stream. How far were they going to take him? He pulled against the ropes, testing the knots, and immediately his head was struck again, this time bringing painful tears to his eyes. His movements became tame and small as the throb in his head got worse. He hung limp and fought down his rising nausea.

Minutes later, he slid from the man's shoulder onto the ground, the hard landing knocking the wind from him. They dragged Louis a few feet along the dirt and rocks and propped him up halfway against what felt like an old tree. More rope was strung around his chest, securing him upright against the coarse bark. He listened as the footsteps disappeared into the distance and abandoned him there.

Time stopped for him. Shivering in the frigid wind, Louis could hear crickets around him occasionally. He tried to drag the blindfold off against the tree, but he only scraped his cheek. He kicked his legs but the rope held. And then the crickets stopped chirping.

Louis grew still. Something was different, he could feel it. Something was nearby. Had he been left out as some kind of sacrifice? Someone was coming near. Dry leaves cracked under boots, but Louis still had to strain to hear the sound. No doubt about it, this person was heading straight for him.

Smooth but hard fingers brushed his cheek, and Louis pulled his head away so fast it re-ignited the pain in his head. The stranger gently undid the rope holding Louis to the tree, then made him lean forward. The ropes around his wrists was pulled away, gingerly separated from the drying blood, the soft skin bruised and torn by the harsh bonds. Once his legs were freed, Louis tried to escape, and he whipped the blindfold away as he stumbled to the side. Clouds covered the moon, however, and the night was pitch black. He tripped over a large rock and slammed into a tree, collapsing in the dirt.

"No, don't run," came a low voice. "I won't hurt you."

Louis looked back, but he could only see a dim silhouette of a person. "Who are you?" he asked, very close to weeping.

"I won't hurt you," the voice repeated. "My name is Lestat."

"Why was I brought here?" Louis asked, standing up again and backing away. "How did you know I was here?"

"Those men brought you here to placate a spirit that has been draining the blood of the local people," Lestat said, and Louis thought he could hear a playful tone in his rescuer's voice. "It told them to leave a beautiful mortal here as a sacrifice." In a softer voice, he added, "it looks like they chose well."

"A spirit?" Louis asked, backing away even faster. "What spirit?"

A chuckle escaped from Lestat's lips. "Me, of course."

Shocked into silence, Louis stumbled backwards and backed into the same tree he had hit before. As the dark figure came closer, he slid down the trunk and closed his eyes in anticipation. He turned his head aside.

Lestat smiled again and stroked the soft throat with his fingertips. "Baring yourself for me?" he said. "No, I wasn't lying when I said I wouldn't hurt you. You're safe with me."

Louis barely opened one eye. "You said...I was a sacrifice..."

"That's what I told them." Lestat caressed Louis' face to calm him down. "And they will think you are dead, since they will never see you again."

"What...?"

"I'm going to take you away with me."

Lestat put his hands on Louis' shoulders, about to pull him up, but Louis slapped his hands away.

"No, leave me alone. I will not go with you anywhere. I will not be commanded or led about or--"

"Hush," Lestat said, seizing his wrists and hauling him to his feet anyway. "Your neighbors will kill you if they see you again. Your life here is over."

"Let me go!" Louis screamed, struggling so violently that he slipped out of Lestat's grasp. He ran headlong through the forest, somehow avoiding other trees and stones, and got as far as the bridge when Lestat came close behind him.

"You're a quick one," Lestat said, reaching out to snag his clothing.

Louis didn't waste time looking back, but instead threw himself across the bridge. He turned and smiled in profound relief at Lestat. "You can't cross running water, can you?"

"Do you really believe that old story?" Taking deliberate steps, he crossed over the bridge and stood inches away from Louis, dark green eyes widening as he watched. "I'm not an earthbound spirit, petit. You cannot escape me."

Louis took another step back, but this time Lestat didn't give him the chance to run. He wrapped his arms around Louis and crushed him against his body, tilting his head to the side. Louis' muffled screams echoed up to him, but he ignored them and sank his fangs into the soft flesh. Blood rushed up to meet his lips, and as he drank, Louis' efforts died down until he was slumped over in Lestat's grasp.

"You're going to be so happy," Lestat grinned, lifting Louis up like a child. "You'll never want for anything again in your life."

"Let...me...go..." Louis mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open.

"My sweet, pass out before I drink from you again," Lestat said, and Louis succumbed, lapsing into unconsciousness.

In his bed at home, Louis opened his eyes, and everything before had been a nightmare. The room was black, so the candle must have gone out on its own. He must have fallen asleep while reading. Odd, he felt rather weak and disoriented. Perhaps he was coming down with something. He tried to sit up, and found that his wrists were heavier than usual. Something metallic rustled in the darkness.

"Awake now?"

Louis froze at the sound of that voice. Not a dream.

A light flashed in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see a lit candle to his side, revealing an ornately carved nightstand next to his bed, which was covered in luxurious velvet and feather blankets. His head lay on a silk pillow. A cloaked figure, presumably his captor, sat or knelt beside him. He could not tell for the length of the robe. He looked down and found firelight reflecting off the iron manacles around his wrists.

Lestat followed his gaze and nodded. "I can't have you running around during the day. You'll stay locked up until I know you won't run."

"A guest in a velvet prison?" Louis said. He still couldn't see Lestat clearly, only a rough outline.

"Are you hungry?" Lestat asked. "I've had a meal prepared for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"It's chicken and dumplings, with cheese pastries for dessert," Lestat said.

Louis bit his lip and looked away. His favorites...and he was absolutely starving...

"I know you haven't been eating much lately," Lestat whispered, "and after all that excitement last night, you must be famished. It's already set on the table."

Louis looked up at him, then shook his head.

"There's no point in starving yourself," Lestat said. "I don't want to torture you. Please?"

The thought of his kidnapper pleading for him to eat struck Louis as absurd, and he wondered if he was to be fattened up for some monster.

"No, Louis, I swear I won't let anything bad happen to you," Lestat said. "Now, please, come have something to eat."

Did he hear...? Louis shook his head, no, just imagining things. He sighed. Lestat would probably sit here begging until he gave in. "Very well."

Lestat stood up and drew the blankets off of his prisoner, then put his arms beneath his back and legs.

"What are you doing?" Louis asked, trying to raise his hands in defense, but the manacles were too heavy to lift.

"You're too weak to walk, so I'm going to carry you," Lestat said. He heaved him up and took him out of the room, bearing him down long hallways and around corners until they came to a pair of double doors. Lestat put his foot up against the wood and softly kicked them forward.

Louis gasped as he looked inside. It was a banquet room, the walls were lined with mirrors that reflected the candle light from the candelabras on the table. The chandelier took up a great part of the ceiling, and Louis was afraid the sheer weight of the crystal would drag it down.

Lestat carried him to a tall chair and gently set him down without jarring his sore body. He drew a long key from beneath the cloak and unlocked the manacles. Before Louis could try to run, a golden chain was brought from the side of the chair, looped around his waist, and drawn around the other side. He heard it lock to the back of his seat.

"Could I really escape from here?" he asked.

"No sense taking chances," was his reply.

Unable to do anything else, Louis watched Lestat go the middle of the long table and bring the covered plates to him. When the covers were removed, the delicious aroma of rich foods, something he had not experienced in years, made him forget his bondage just for a moment. Lestat pulled a chair out and watched as Louis devoured everything. Louis ate quickly, but never inelegantly.

"Such a gentleman," Lestat smiled. At least, Louis thought Lestat was smiling. He couldn't see his face beneath the deep hood. When he had nearly finished, Lestat asked if he wanted even more.

Louis shook his head. "No, I think I have eaten too much as it is." He sighed. "Do I thank my captor for the fine fare?"

Lestat looked away for a moment. "I...wanted to show you something," he said. He unfastened Louis' gold chain and refastened the manacles. He stooped to pick Louis up again, but Louis held his hands up to stop him.

"I can walk on my own, thank you."

Not replying, Lestat merely added a small length of chain to the manacles as a tether. Lestat helped his guest up, and he was obviously surprised when Louis walked beside him, instead of attempting to rush off. He did not have to jerk the chain once.

"I know...I know you like to read," Lestat said. "I thought I would...um...show you something you might like."

Louis looked curiously at him, but he had no time to ask what was in his mind. They stopped only a little ways from the banquet room at another set of doors. Lestat pushed the doors in and escorted Louis into a murky room. Louis could not see the edges of the room, but he knew it must be huge. He could hear his footsteps echoing around him.

After lighting a large candelabra, Lestat revealed a gigantic library filled with thousands of books. Louis gasped, surrounded by more books than he had ever dreamed existed. Lestat followed behind him, still holding the chain, while Louis explored the shelves and ladders. There were two tall floors to the room, long scaffoldings that would allow Louis to climb up and search the highest volumes.

"The Comedy," Louis gasped, pulling out a thin book. "You have a copy of Aristotle's Comedy. I thought they were all destroyed."

"All but my copy," Lestat smiled. "There are hundreds of books that are thought lost. You could never hope to read everything in this library, there are so many books. And if even those are not enough, I can bring more for you. Everything here is yours."

Louis shook his head in confused wonder. "I don't understand any of this. You seize me from my home, lock me up in chains, and yet you give me the greatest treasure in the world. No one is that selfless."

"…I do want something in return..."

Louis stared at him. "And what is that? My immortal soul?"

"Souls are not the only things that are immortal," Lestat whispered. "No...I want...I...you will see, later. For now, I still need to show you the rest of the house."

Louis followed after he felt a tiny tug on his manacles, taken past tall paintings and fine tapestries, past ancient statues and more mirrors. Lestat showed him each room, different places to explore later on, and soon they stopped in the front room and a gigantic door, locked tight with chains.

"You must not try to leave," Lestat said. "There are vicious creatures outside who would hurt you if they could. You are safe inside. Do not try to open windows or smash them. I doubt you would be able to, but there is no sense in tempting fate."

"What kind of creatures?" Louis asked.

"Monsters," Lestat answered. "Half-formed creatures, basilisks and manticores, mermecolions and catoblepas, the gulon and perytons."

Louis just stared at him. "What on earth are those? I've only heard of the first two."

Lestat nodded. "Very rare things. Very deadly. I'll explain what they are later. The garden is next."

"Garden?" Louis asked, stumbling along as he was drawn by the chain. "Wait, why are we moving so quickly? Why are we rushing?"

Lestat did not turn around as he answered. "The sun will be up soon and I must be sure you are secure before I go to sleep."

"Sleep during the day?" Louis asked.

There was no reply.

They went down another long hallway and came out into a darkened greenhouse. Louis gazed over the exotic flowers and plants, all closed up for the night, some vivid orange, some yellow, some blue or pink or red...and the plants were huge, towering over both of them. Beyond the glass, however, Louis could see twisted trees and thorny briars, and every few seconds a bush would shake a bit, showing him that there was something behind it.

"You may come here whenever you wish," Lestat said. "There are no doors and the glass is magickally reinforced. If you do try to escape, the plants themselves will retaliate and hold you here until I come get you. If you do this early in the morning, you will have a long wait until I wake again."

"Are you finished threatening me?" Louis asked. "Do not do this, do not attempt that, you will be held, eaten, mauled, destroyed...I am sick of this. Why have I been brought here? I demand that you tell me."

Lestat's posture altered a bit, and Louis knew Lestat was angry.

"Very well," Lestat whispered. "You want to know, then I will show you." He tightened his grip on the chain and all but dragged Louis after him as he returned down the hallway. Louis nearly tripped on the rugs but kept up with the rapid pace until he noticed that they were returning to the bedroom where he had awakened. In an instant he knew what Lestat wanted.

"No, stop," Louis said, pulling back on the chain and trying to claw his way back through the hallway. "I will not, it's sinful."

"You will!" Lestat hauled him back into the room and threw him onto the bed. Louis clawed at Lestat's face beneath the hood. Lestat slung the manacles over his head and locked them to the headboard, then tossed the covers aside, revealing another set of chains which he clamped around each ankle, binding them in a spread out position.

"Don't do this, please don't do this," Louis said, doing his best to wrench out of the chains even if it meant tearing himself apart. "Please, I won't try to escape, just don't do this to me."

"I'm sorry, I have to," was the only answer he received. The candle on the nightstand, still burning, was snuffed out, and the whole room went dark. Louis heard Lestat's heavy robe hitting the floor, and then his clothes were being removed. He whimpered and begged and cursed him, but his clothing came off piece by piece. By the time he was naked, he was too exhausted to continue fighting. Resigning himself to what was about to come, he lay his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

"I won't take you until...unless you are ready," Lestat whispered. "Not that way. But I must have you in bed every night."

"Why?" Tears springing to his eyes.

"I have to."

Lestat's hand stroked Louis' cheek, then started to heavily caress his throat and chest. He rubbed the mortal nipples until they were firm, then bent to kiss them. Louis shuddered, and Lestat started to lick at one, chewing lovingly on the tender skin. The manacles rattled in the darkness, and Louis was relieved that at least Lestat could not see his blush, or that his body was growing excited despite himself.

While he continued his ministrations, Lestat's hand wandered down to Louis' side, petting the skin where the ribs ended down to the hip. He moved down to kiss the joint, the skin soft to his lips, and kept rubbing Louis' thighs, loosening the taut muscles. He briefly wondered if Louis was malnourished, he was sickeningly thin. He put his ear to Louis' chest, glorying in the beating heart, the rush of the lungs, the blood flowing through the veins...He placed another kiss at Louis' thigh, then one directly between his legs. Louis groaned, but Lestat couldn't tell if it was in agony or ecstasy.

"I won't do...what you think..." he whispered. "Not if you don't want me to. I only needed this much."

Louis moaned.

"I could please you," Lestat offered. "I can't...as a mortal would...but my mouth still works...I could..."

"No," Louis whimpered. "No, go away...stop..."

"Louis, please, I--"
"Just go..." Louis said. "Stop torturing me."

Lestat unlocked Louis' ankles and wrists, leaving him free on the bed, but Louis only curled on his side and started to sob. Lestat sat on the edge of the bed, watching his prisoner, then reached under the bed and took out a longer length of chain. He slipped it under Louis' waist and looped it there, locking it with a small clasp.

"Please don't cry, Louis," Lestat said, putting one hand on his captive's arm.

"Go!"

Lestat started to cry, and he gathered up the robe and ran out of the room, racing downstairs as fast as he could to the basement.

Louis opened his eyes, blinking away the restless sleep and nauseating nightmares as he sat up. His manacles were gone and there was a strong chain around his hips, but that did not surprise him. What was surprising, though, was the steady stream of sunlight pouring into his room. He pushed the blankets away and got up, gazing in amazement at the furnishings.

What a change a little light makes, he said to himself. The carpet here was dark red with darker roses patterned along it. Roses covered the wallpaper all the way up to the crystal chandelier in the ceiling, and he found that if he stared hard enough, he could spot little white roses etched in the glass. The curtains had roses embroidered on them, the chairs and dressers had the flowers carved into them, and now that he could see them clearly, his blanket seemed to be in one large rose shape. Lestat must certainly love roses, he thought.

He got out of bed and went to the dresser, intuitively knowing that was where he would find something to wear. He pulled open the first mahogany drawer and found a stark white poet's shirt of loose fabric that bunched at the wrists and flowed again with another four or five inches of material over the hands and fingers. It had a few buttons at the neckline, which drooped halfway down his chest. The shirt also gathered at the waist with enough excess cloth to completely cover his rear, which was a good thing since the next thing he found was a pair of needlessly tight brown leggings. They were the only things offered to him, however, so he slipped them on, buttoning up the shirt and lacing up the pants. Despite himself, he felt comfortable in them. There was a pair of black boots standing next to the dresser, and when he stepped into them, they came up to his knees in a perfect fit.

"He said he sleeps during the day," he murmured. Louis went to the door and pushed it open cautiously, looking around for anything unusual. When he was certain he was alone, he left the room. The chain trailed behind him, continuously unwinding from beneath the bed.

Louis had not noticed how tall the house really was before, but now in the light, he could see that the arched ceilings were nearly fifteen feet high and made his boots echo, despite the thick rug that ran the entire length of the floor. Tapestries hung on the wall, but they did not show the scenes he expected. There were no unicorns or lions, no knights or dragons. Instead there were shadowy creatures, apparitions and ghostly things, all lurking about in crumbling castles and cemeteries. Eyes glowed out from behind bushes and clawed hands loomed over representations of dead flowers. The worst was a completely black tapestry with a door in the center. It was a large door, almost life-size, and quite realistic. Louis' body went cold as he looked at it, and he turned away.

Along the walls were small tables with vases of roses on them, and chairs set in odd places, like behind corners and in gloomy niches. Here it was harder to see, because there were no windows, but there were candles spaced about. He hurried past them until he came to another room whose door was ajar. Not wanting to go too far from his room, he pushed this door further and went inside.

This room was entirely blue, with a blue rug that had white cloudy designs. In fact, the walls and even the ceiling were painted like a cloudy sky. The bed sheets were blue with white covers and a matching canopy. Blue roses sat in the vase beside the bed here. A beautiful desk next to a set of shelves caught his eye, and he wandered closer. Instead of books here, though, he found small boxes of different types.

Louis took the first one and opened it up, finding golden coins inside. No two coins were alike. One resembled a doubloon, while another had Latin writing, and yet another was Greek. Some of them had faces and symbols he did not recognize. He put that box back and took another.

When he opened it up, a small mechanical bird flapped its wings and chirped like a sweet nightingale. He opened another one, this time holding an odd black liquid he did not dare to touch. Another box had eyes torn from their sockets that glared up at him. He shrieked in disgust and dropped it, thanking Heaven when the box closed tight before any eyes rolled out. His hand shaking, he put the boxes back and left the room.

Hugging his arms around himself, he debated further exploration or simply returning to his room. Reminding himself that there was a library somewhere down the hallways, he pushed forward. Stone statues, some with their heads off, some with their limbs missing, stood stiff at each twist of the path. He shut his eyes tight and prayed that they would not come to life. He opened his eyes just a bit to see where he was headed, and found himself in front of a large door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and glanced inside.

There were no windows so it was dark inside, but suddenly the fireplace sprang to life directly in front of him. Louis stepped inside and found himself in what appeared to be a sitting room. There were a few paintings on the walls, pleasanter things than the tapestries, of mermaids and unicorns, and of a phoenix directly above the fireplace. In the center of the room was a soft, high-backed chair, and Louis came closer. , Worried that it may somehow bite, he sat down when it seemed safe.

There was a tapping sound to his left, and he stared in astonishment as a small table rushed forward to him, bringing a thick book and a glass of wine on its top. It stopped in arm's reach and held still.

Biting his lip, Louis put his hand and grasped the book, reading the title. A Thousand Cats in the Cathedral, by Allison Benster. He had never heard of the title nor the author, but he opened the book anyway and began to read, occasionally taking sips from the wine.

He was halfway through when he felt the chain tug. He looked down and saw it tug again, harder this time. "It is nightfall, isn't it?" he asked sadly. He placed the bookmark the table provided between the pages and left it on the chair, then stood up. The chain started to pull even harder, and he put his hands on the metal links, following the taut line back until he was back in his bedroom.

Lestat, still wrapped in his cloak, had his gloved hands on the chain. He seemed to stare at Louis' body, set off by his clothing. "I was wondering where you had gotten to," he said.

Louis did not reply.

"Do you prefer this chain, or would you rather wear the manacles?" Lestat asked.

"What a choice," Louis muttered. He watched sullenly while Lestat fetched the manacles from the nightstand and locked them around his wrists again. The chain around his waist was removed, and he couldn't hold his sigh of relief that the dragging weight was gone.

"Are you hungry?" Lestat asked, turning his back to put away the chain.

Louis did not try to run. "Yes, very much." He followed Lestat back to the banquet room, where the food was once again set out. Lestat pulled Louis' seat out for him, then pushed him close to the table. When Louis heard the next tether being prepared, he held his hand up.

"I'm not going to run," he whispered. "You do not have to bind me further."

Lestat halted, then let the chain hang and went back to the table. He picked up the plates and served them before Louis, taking the covers off to reveal marinated sirloin and fresh vegetables beside, along with chocolate covered strawberries in a bowl.

Once again, Lestat watched as Louis ate, but without the sting of hunger so hard on him, Louis could take his time eating. As he finished the main course and went to dessert, he glanced up at the dark void that should have been Lestat's face.

"Why do you wear that cloak?" he asked quietly. "Why can I not see you?"

Lestat leaned back and turned away a bit, not answering.

"I want to know what you look like."

"Why?"

"You have so much power over me, I want to at least see my captor's face."

Lestat chuckled. "Not while you are eating."

Louis fell silent and finished the strawberries. When he was done, Lestat helped him stand and took him back outside to the hall.

"Did you explore any of the rooms while I was asleep?" he asked, walking with Louis.

"I did," Louis said.

"What did you see?" Lestat prodded.

"A box full of gore and eyes." He stopped and looked at the dark cloak, trying to remind himself that there was someone inside of that black hole of a hood. "Is that what you do to your prisoners? Rip their eyes out?"

Lestat sighed and shook his head. "No...those are the eyes of monsters that used to roam nearby in the forest. They were little goblins, and they had a habit of trying to chew through the doors and walls. When I destroyed them, I took the eyes as a warning to other inhabitants of the woods. Whenever they become too aggressive, I display that box, and all is quiet again."

"You live in a savage garden," Louis said. "How did you destroy them?"

"Would you care to return to the library?" Lestat asked. "We can talk comfortably there."

"I am your captive. You decide what I do."

No answer. They went down the hall and turned a few corners, coming up to the large doors of the library. When they entered, however, there was no talking. Louis immediately climbed up to the next level and looked through the rows of books, picking one out at random. He sat down against the shelf and began to read.

On the floor, Lestat paced around a little, stopped to glance at Louis, then began to pace again. This was not at all what he'd had in mind. He'd wanted a conversation, the sounds of speech in the quiet manor. Now it was still brutally silent.

Restless, he leaped up to where Louis was and landed without a sound beside him. Louis did not stir, apparently not even noticing him. Lestat looked at the books here, then sat beside his prisoner.

"Why do you enjoy doing that?" he asked, interrupting Louis.

"What, reading?" Louis looked back at the page and took a few seconds before answering. "I...enjoy the escape. I do not have to think about reality when I am reading. Haven't you read these books, at least some of them?"

Lestat laughed. "Of course not. They are merely piles of dust and kindling."

"Why haven't you burned these then?" Louis all but hissed.

"You want them, and the ones I have here make an impression on my few visitors. But that does not mean I read them. There are other things to do. I must attend to the garden, see that the manor is in good condition, hunt...there are other things to do."

While Lestat was speaking, he lowered his guard, and Louis noticed. He knew this might be his only chance, and despite the imagined consequences, his curiosity overpowered him. Moving faster than he thought humanly possible, he reached out and pushed the hood back.

Lestat snarled and recovered instantly, throwing the hood forward again before it had revealed much, but in that time Louis had seen a glimpse of his face. The skin was ghastly white, whiter than milk, while his lips were in stark contrast, a deep ruby red. His deep set eyes were smoky gray with flecks of blue and flashed angrily in the candle light. His cheekbones were high, and his hair, soft gold, floated around his face.

Louis was stunned by his sheer beauty.

"How dare you!" Lestat yelled, slapping Louis hard enough to knock him to the ground. Louis yelped as he fell, his cheek stinging. Lestat grabbed his shoulders and heaved him to his feet, slamming him against the wall and slapping him again. "Don't ever do that again, ever." He backhanded him and smiled when Louis whimpered in pain. "Understand?"

Louis nodded, his eyes shut tight. Lestat refrained from striking him once more, but he looked over Louis' body. He narrowed his eyes and leaned close, nuzzling his lips to Louis' throat. Louis braced himself for an attack.

"You need a bath," Lestat said.

"What?"

"Yes, right now." Lestat unlocked Louis' manacles and let them drop to the floor, then tightened his hold on Louis' wrist and dragged him after. Louis struggled to keep up as they went out and down the stairs, nearly tripping a few times.

"Slow down!" he pleaded, his wrist throbbing in pain.

"Stop whining!" Lestat growled back.

They came to a small door and Lestat opened it. Louis barely had time to see the porcelain fixtures and red tiles before he was pushed into the tub. He groaned in pain as he hit the hard surface, but Lestat had no mercy, stripping his clothes away. Louis started to cry openly and stopped trying to move. Water rushed over his body, breathtakingly cold, and he tried to turn on his side to curl up. After a moment, the water heated up, and a sponge was dragged roughly over his skin. A sweet smell wafted into the air, and even more water rinsed the soap from him.

Lestat's fingers gradually turned gentle, though, as he came to Louis' hair. The scented soap lathered up on his head and Lestat massaged it in, relaxing his prisoner, until he pushed him beneath the surface. Louis put his hands on the sides of the tub, trying to rise, but a second later Lestat brought him back up. Louis did not even have to gasp for air.

"What, did you think I would drown you?" He helped Louis up in the slippery tub and tied a towel about his waist before putting one over his hair. Drying the rest of his body, he made him sit down on a nearby stool.

Lestat lay his fingers on Louis' face, examining the bruises he'd left. Louis winced when the dark spots were touched, and more tears coursed down his cheeks. Lestat sighed and brushed his wet hair aside.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you so. But you made me angry and...you must not make me angry, you are too beautiful to mar. You are my Beautiful One."

"Do I belong to you?" Louis asked. "Even slaves are not beaten so."

"No," Lestat said. "Slaves are beaten worse. A slave would never be bathed by his master. But you are mine, in ways much more profound than mere property rights." He could feel the waves of misery coming from Louis, so he brought him close and bit into his throat, drinking up his sadness until Louis lay limp in his arms. Lestat picked him up, ignoring the towels as they slipped away, and carried him back upstairs.

He put Louis back in bed and slipped one manacle around his right ankle, just so he would be locked to the bed. While Louis was unconscious, Lestat stole a kiss from him and stroked his abdomen, fondling his thighs. Louis whimpered in his sleep, lost in erotic dreams. Lestat bent over and placed his mouth between Louis' legs, kissing him several times before getting up again. He would not take Louis until he was willing.

Lestat covered him up beneath the blankets again and placed the iron key on the nightstand so Louis could free himself when he woke up. Blowing out the candle, he left the room and went downstairs, deep into the lower level of the house. Still fast asleep, Louis groaned and turned to the side. He dreamed that someone unnaturally beautiful was assaulting his body, gently, like a real lover. In his dreams, he spread his legs in invitation even while he was struggling to escape.

Part 2