Warnings: Violence, Adult Situations

Spoilers: To Queen

Hot. That was the most you could ever say for Hell. It was always hot. It seemed that something was always on fire, always burning. It is the Lake of Fire, after all. The seas were burning, the souls were burning, the fallen angels were burning, the demons were burning...

...but not always on the outside.

The minor demon stared into the pool, its dark edges ablaze, watching the figures on the surface. One of them so beautiful, the other just a little less so, fangs in both of their mouths. It was known that the darker one was not slated for this place at all, but the lighter one...his case was not yet decided. The vampire wanted to be good, but he delighted in being bad.

"Oh, no," he chuckled lowly, "you do not get to be saint and sinner at once."

The creatures were playing a game, a game of dominance and faith, the perfect opportunity for him to dabble in their affairs. And maybe even tip the scales one way, he realized. His eyes narrowed as he saw who would be vulnerable in this tryst. He would have preferred the dark one, but destroying the light one would be nice, too. Mere rope would not hold him, though. He said a soft chant, and the rope imperceivably changed color and strength. With a sigh of concentration, he shifted dimensions and started to emerge in the dark one's mind. He'd thought he'd need to create a few hellish images, but instead he found that the dark one's memories would serve well enough.

Lestat looked up at him with absolute trust in his eyes. He leaned his head on Louis' hand as his fledgling softly caressed his face. Louis smiled at him. Lestat had lowered all of his guards for him, leaving himself vulnerable and open. If anything bad were to happen now, the results could be traumatic.

"Have you been waiting long?" Louis asked.

"Longer than you can imagine," his maker answered, holding his hand against Louis'.

"Give me your hands."

Lestat obediently raised his hands, crossed at the wrists. Louis took an odd, black rope from beneath his coat and wound it around Lestat's hands, binding them together tightly. Once he was finished, Lestat jerked at his bonds. He was a little surprised at how strong they were.

"What is this made of?" he asked curiously.

Louis smiled mysteriously as he took a firmer grip of Lestat's wrists. "Something that can hold even you, my brat prince."

Lestat let Louis push him down on the mattress, allowing his hands to be forced up above his head as Louis smothered his face in kisses. When Louis finally pulled away, Lestat noticed the nightshade in his fledgling's hands.

"Are you certain your time with Armand had no effect on you?" he grinned.

Louis carefully set the nightshade over Lestat's eyes, blinding him. Now that his sight was denied, all of Lestat's other senses expanded. Every touch was increased, every sound amplified, every feeling exquisite. He sighed as he relaxed, surrendering himself.

"You are beautiful," Louis whispered, nuzzling against him. "Like a fallen angel."

Lestat smiled, about to reply, when Louis kissed him again.

"You know I love you?" Louis asked, caressing his lover's face and arms.

"Yes," Lestat sighed, giving himself up.

"And you love me?"

"For all eternity."

"What a sweet liar," Louis suddenly said harshly. "I suppose it was out of love that you that you treated me like a slave for sixty years?"

Lestat was too surprised to answer.

"And then when you made certain that my poor Claudia was destroyed, it was out of love?" Louis raised his hand, then struck Lestat's face. "And when you replaced me with David, when you burned my house, that was all out of love?!"

He hit Lestat again, cutting off whatever reply he was about to make. The brat prince was stunned by the sheer force of Louis' strength. Was this his weak Beautiful One striking him with more power than Marius had? Louis slapped him again, and his claws tore apart his skin.

"Louis, for God's sake!" Lestat screamed, trying to move out of his fledgling's range, but the lashes and blows were coming too fast and too hard to break away. For some reason, he was not healing when he was cut. Instead, blood fell out against the sheets, staining the white cloth red. His mind clouded by pain, Lestat tried to block Louis' claws, but his bound hands only received more lacerations. Being blind only made it worse, and he was beginning to panic. It was terrible that someone he had trusted so completely could turn like this against him.

"What's the matter, Lestat?" Louis snarled. "Don't you like your own treatment?"

"Louis, please stop," Lestat cried, tears building in his eyes. "I can't take this!"

"Oh, but you will," Louis replied. He grabbed Lestat's tied wrists with a strength even greater than his maker's, and pushed them down over Lestat's head. Now completely immobilized, Lestat could only beg and cry as he was tortured. Louis drove his claws down and began to slash at Lestat's face, gouging the hard skin easily. Lestat wanted to scream but moving his jaw was hideously painful. Louis pinched Lestat's left nipple, piercing it so that blood ran across his chest. Lestat whimpered as he twisted, but that only worsened the injuries. His attacker reached up, then viciously backhanded him. Lestat's head snapped to one side with the force of the blow. The first hit was awful, but the second one caused him to lose count of the rest. Suddenly Louis stopped hitting him. Lestat hoped the assault was over, but instead he was flipped almost casually onto his stomach, his tied hands caught beneath himself.

He felt Louis rub up against him, entirely erect. Lestat's mind was in a panic. How could Louis manage that? All of them were dead that way, or was Louis still so human that he could? But then how could he be strong enough to hold him down like this? The questions were driven away when he felt the first drive into him. He gasped loudly, and his back arched involuntarily. It hurt, it felt like he was being split apart. Another drive, and another and another...After several seconds of this Lestat started to scream, struggling to move and unable to get away. Louis slipped his fingers into Lestat's hair and jerked his head up, relishing the vampire's cry of pain, and then forced Lestat's face into the pillow to muffle his screams. Lestat felt his fledgling's claws tear the skin on his back. He heard Louis laughing sadistically with each thrust, pleasuring at the pain he was causing. He was using all of his strength to torment Lestat, plunging deeper and trying to tear him apart from the inside. It was wonderful to dominate the brat prince, to show him just how subservient he truly was. With each drive Louis owned him more completely. As the minutes passed, Lestat's screams grew hoarser until his throat was too raw to make any kind of real sound. He could only moan in agony as he was raped over and over again, laying helpless at his fledgling's nonexistent mercy.

Finally Louis turned him back over, mocking his tears. "Such a worthless creature," he sneered. "No wonder Akasha wanted to kill you. Akasha, and Claudia, and Gretchen, and Dora. None of them loved you. Nobody has ever loved you. You're just an inconvenience, Lestat, nothing more than an insect. You'll always be alone, alone and unloved."

"No, stop..." Lestat cried feebly. The words hurt as much as the physical abuse.

"Worthless whore. You're family knew it. They gave you exactly what you deserved. You're worthless, Lestat, I'm surprised they didn't drown you when they first saw you."

"Louis, please...no..."

"You expect everyone to bow down to your wishes," Louis hissed. "You're a selfish, idiotic monster. I never loved you, Lioncourt. I hate you. I have always hated you, I will hate you until you die. I only pretended long enough to do this!" With that he clawed Lestat again, criss-crossing the slices that already lined his skin.

"I will put you in your coffin, Father," Louis snarled, which only made Lestat cry harder. Louis backhanded him several times, increasing his strength with each hit. At length Louis struck Lestat's head with too much force and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"You won't escape me that easily..." were the last words Lestat heard before he started to dream. Nightmares that had recurred over the centuries suddenly came at him in a rush.

It was too much, even for him. Slowly he began to break down.

As Lestat wept in his sleep, the expression on Louis' face changed. The blood looked different, and Lestat's cries weren't as amusing. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a groan. Noticing the blood on his hands, he tried to back away from them, pushing himself up against the wall.

"No, this can't be real," he whispered. "No, no, I can't do this. This has to stop. I don't want to hurt him!"

Suddenly an invisible force slammed him back against the wall. He screamed as a dark shape shot up out of him and landed on the bed. Louis' astonishment turned to terror as he looked into the face of a demon.

"What are you?" he whispered frantically.

"A succubus. Actually, a rare male succubus, meant for your type," the demon grinned, exposing rows of sharklike teeth. "The embodiment of your hate. I let you do to Lestat in one day what he's been doing to you over two centuries." It took a step toward him and knelt, so that their faces were only inches apart. "Would you like to do it again?"

"Get out!" Louis screamed, backing away from it. "Leave him alone!"

The demon smiled indulgently. "As you wish. I've done my job in any case. But before I go, won't you admit that you enjoyed it?"

"Get out!" Louis staggered to his feet, looking around the room for anything to use as a weapon.

"But you called me," the demon started to laugh, "and it isn't like you tried to stop me. I had to possess you to do it, but it was your hate and anger that called me here. Admit it, you've wanted to do this ever since you met him. You enjoyed raping him. You hate him."

"You bastard," Louis hissed, about to attack the demon with his bare claws. He wished he could remember any prayers, but nothing came. "I love him!"

The demon sighed, smiled one more time, and then vanished in a cloud of smoke.

Louis weakly struggled to his feet and moved to the bed where Lestat was still sobbing uncontrollably. Louis eased his arms beneath his maker and pulled him up into his grip, along with a few of the bloody sheets that were still wrapped around him. He rushed out of the room, then, and headed for one of the guest rooms.

He gently set Lestat on the bed, first removing the blindfold and then gently taking the sheets off of him. Once he knew the extent of the damage, he retrieved a large roll of bandages from the bathroom. With as much care as he could, he began to dress the cuts and lacerations he had inflicted on his lover. While he worked, he frowned. Lestat's wounds were not healing at all. When he finished, he finally realized that Lestat was still bound. He undid the black rope from around his wrists and tossed it aside.

Lestat seemed to know that he was free again. He didn't wake up, but he managed to pull the pillow into his arms and hold it tightly. He curled up like a child, whimpering in pain. Louis brushed his hand softly against Lestat's face, but that only made Lestat cry harder.

"Louis..."

He hardly heard the faint whisper, and for a moment he thought that Lestat had woken up. He bent down and tried to catch his next words.

"Yes, Lestat?"

"Louis..." Lestat mumbled, not hearing him, "put me...in my coffin...Louis...please...my coffin..."

Louis collapsed into the chair beside him. Those words...Claudia had come close to killing Lestat before, and now he had nearly finished the job. Lestat must still be reliving past nightmares. He finally stopped murmuring, and Louis lay his fingers over his maker's lips to make sure that he was still breathing. The entire scene made Louis want to kill himself.

Is this what it was like when you were mortal? Louis wondered. He pulled the blanket up over Lestat, then settled back to wait. In a few hours Lestat would wake, and he would need Louis with him.

Lestat's head went from side to side, signaling that he was about to wake up. Louis braced himself for the worst. Lestat hadn't seen the demon or known that it wasn't his fledgling who had tortured him. He would wake up thinking Louis hated him.

Slowly Lestat's eyes opened, still exhausted. He glanced vacantly around the room, but when he saw Louis, he cried out in terror and buried his face in the pillow. Somehow he managed to pull himself into an even tighter, trembling ball.

"Lestat?" Louis whispered softly. "I won't hurt you, I swear it."

Lestat only choked on a sob.

Louis was ready to cry himself. Lestat was broken, it was obvious. He had given himself utterly to Louis, only to have his trust shattered and his faith destroyed. Nothing was left of the confident brat prince, Louis was certain of it. All that was left was this wounded, battered shell.

He knelt by Lestat, praying he wouldn't drive his lover into hysterics. "Lestat, please, you mustn't cry, you're too weak already. You'll hurt yourself."

Lestat barely seemed to notice. He cried and cried, threatening to make himself sick. Louis tried to reach forward, but his lover pulled back, wincing in pain. The cuts still had not healed.

Unable to do anything else, Louis began to draw away.

"Why?" came the smallest of whispers.

Louis whirled and knelt back by Lestat. "I'm sorry, mon amor, I am. I never meant to hurt you. I couldn't stop myself. It was a demon, Lestat, a terrible demon. If I could have stopped myself, I swear, I never would have done this!"

Lestat's eyes were unfocused, almost delirious. "Louis," he whimpered, "you raped me."

Louis lowered his eyes. He could still hear Lestat's screams in his mind. How could he try to blame all of it on a demon?

"Why did you...?" Lestat couldn't say the words again. "I would have given it to you if you'd asked."

Louis couldn't hold back the tears. He merely cried at his lover's side, knowing better than to expect forgiveness.

"I trusted you," Lestat whispered. "Why, Louis? Am I so evil?" He unfolded a little but he held the pillow as tight as he could still. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't, I don't," Louis sobbed. "I love you! God, I'm the one who should have been tortured."

"I don't understand," Lestat cried. "I don't understand anything now. I thought you loved me. I thought you wouldn't ever hurt me. Louis, why?"

Louis couldn't answer.

"I loved you!" Lestat continued. "Heaven help me, I still love you. But...but..."

Louis suddenly grasped Lestat's hands. Lestat was too weak to pull away, so he closed his eyes, wondering if he would be hit again.

"I'm sorry, Lestat, it was a demon, a succubus, it said. It said it possessed me, it used my anger to make me hurt you! I didn't realize what I was doing until you blacked out. I didn't know..."

"Louis..."

The fledgling looked up, expecting to be told to leave, to never set foot in New Orleans again. Instead, Lestat lay his hand on Louis' face.

"Hold me," Lestat begged, desperate to be loved despite any circumstances. "Please?"

Louis, stunned that his lover could trust him again already, slowly got up and eased into the bed behind Lestat. As softly as he could, he wrapped his right arm over Lestat's body and pulled him close. To his surprise, Lestat pressed up against him, eager to feel safer. Louis pulled the blankets back over their shoulders. Tentatively, he pressed his lips against Lestat's shoulder, one of the few places that hadn't been cut. Lestat sighed in relief, then sighed even more as Louis stroked his hair.

"I'm afraid," he suddenly whispered.

"Of me?" Louis asked.

"No. I don't know what I'm afraid of," Lestat said. "I just am."

"There's nothing to be afraid of now," Louis told him. "I'll keep you safe, I swear it."

"I believe you." Lestat fell asleep in Louis' arms, his breathing still irregular. Louis was close to crying again, and he glanced back over Lestat's body. To his amazement, the cuts were beginning to heal. He smiled in relief and hugged Lestat closer.

The next evening, Lestat woke up out of a string of nightmares, gasping for breath. He leaned back, expecting to feel Louis' body behind him, but instead he only felt empty sheets. He sat up too quickly, grimacing with pain as the cuts pulled in different directions. Glancing wildly around the room, his worst fear was realized. Louis was nowhere in sight.

He closed his eyes and listened. There was nobody downstairs. He was all alone.

Lestat opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Several minutes passed before he could force out a strangled whimper. "L-Louis," he stuttered in an inaudible whisper, as if it was a prayer that would make his lover return. He tried to say the name louder, to call his fledgling back, or at least make a sound he himself could hear, but it was as if his voice had died. He kept mouthing the words, silently, over and over, staring at the open window. The pillow was pulled up into his arms and crushed against his chest. Long minutes passed by, and Lestat grew more desolate each second. He lowered his head onto the pillow, beginning to weep again.

A faint scrape on the windowsill echoed through the room, and Lestat looked up as Louis climbed in the window, brushing dirt from his coat. Louis closed the sill and turned, stopping suddenly when he saw Lestat's face.

The blonde vampire had a lost look on his face, like a puppy that's been kicked and doesn't know why. His eyes had dilated until they were almost entirely black and were full of tears. Still bearing the wounds and bandages he'd received the night before, Lestat looked every bit like an abandoned child.

Louis tossed his coat onto the floor, kicking off his boots as well. He raced to Lestat's side, collecting him into his arms. Lestat sobbed softly, incapable of doing anything other than laying limply in his fledgling's arms. The pillow slipped from his hands and for what seemed like hours he just relaxed in Louis' grip, taking comfort in his presence.

"Don't leave me alone here, Louis," he begged. "Please, Louis, please..."

"It's all right," Louis whispered soothingly, stroking Lestat's hair. "I'll never leave you, I promise. I'll always be right here. I love you."

"Where did you go? You didn't tell me you were going. I woke up and you were gone and I thought..."

"I went to feed, and you were still asleep. I didn't want to wake you. You needed your rest. You still do. I only went out to eat enough for both of us."

Lestat hesitated, then nodded in reluctant understanding.

Louis adjusted himself so that he could lift his wrist to Lestat's mouth. "Here, drink. You can sleep again afterward."

Obediently, Lestat bit down on Louis' skin, then started to draw out the blood. When he felt as if he might be nauseous, he pulled away.

"Is that all?" Louis asked incredibly. "Lestat, you hardly took anything."

"If I drink anymore I might get sick," Lestat admitted.

Louis caressed his lover's face. "All right, but if you feel hungry again, tell me." He began to ease toward the side of the bed. Lestat's hand suddenly clasped around his fledgling's arm, holding him as tightly as he could, shaking. Louis understood and instead moved to sit behind him, wrapping his arms around the blonde vampire. Lestat sighed in relief and relaxed, feeling safe.

"Lestat? Do you mind if I check your bandages?"

Lestat shook his head silently. He didn't want to think about any of the night before, but he knew it needed to be done. As gently as he could, Louis pulled Lestat further back against him, then proceeded to examine the bandages, which had turned crimson during the day. To his delight all of the cuts were healing up, albeit slowly. Narrow gouges on Lestat's legs where he had sunk his claws in for a better hold were now just thick scratches. The slashes on his arms, chest and back were still a webwork of deep cuts, but they were more than halfway healed. The slice to his face was nearly gone, and his broken arm was no longer useless. Still, Louis had to wonder how the mental wounds would heal, if at all.

"You'll be much better soon," he whispered. "Very soon, now."

Lestat felt something damp hit his shoulder, and when he glanced down, he saw that it was a tear. He lay his head back and looked up at his fledgling. The misery only shallowly hidden on his lover's face erased any pain he still felt. Louis was hurting. That was what needed to be fixed right now. "Don't cry, chere," he started, pausing to take deep breaths. "It's all right. It's not permanent. Don't tear yourself up. I'll be fine."

"Oh, Lestat...how can you forgive me so quickly?" Louis murmured.

"I love you," he smiled. "And you love me."

"Yes, I love you," Louis whispered furiously, kissing his unhurt eyes. "I'll take care of you for ever and ever."

"Strange," Lestat sighed. "I was about to say the same thing." He yawned suddenly, and Louis pulled the blanket farther up.

"Go to sleep, mon amor, you still need the rest."

"You won't go anywhere--" Lestat started, but Louis lay his fingertips over his lips.

"Shh. Don't worry, I'll stay right here for the rest of the night and day. Sleep."

He didn't hear a reply, and when he looked down, Lestat's eyes were shut and his breathing quiet. He looked like a fallen angel, banged and bruised in the tumble with dissheveled hair and bloodied wounds. Louis knew he'd have to get Lestat in the shower the next night, but for now, it was enough to keep him warm and safe.

Louis glanced over to the nightstand beside the bed. He smiled when he noticed the poetry book on it, and reached over for it. For several hours they lay like that, Louis reading quietly and Lestat fast asleep. When dawn came, the pair didn't move.

The next night when Lestat woke up, Louis had disappeared again. He sat up slowly, glancing sadly around the room. It seemed so empty without his fledgling. He felt empty without Louis nearby. It'll be all right, he just went out to eat, he told himself over and over again. He'll be right back, he'll be right back.

The familiar scrape scratched out from the window. Louis looked up, wondering if Lestat would be as panicked as he was last night, but instead he found his maker with a relieved smile on his face. He tossed his coat on a chair and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Feeling better, lover?"

Lestat grinned and leaned forward, enjoying a long kiss before he answered. "Much better now that you're back."

Louis smiled and hooked an arm around Lestat's waist. "Think you can handle a night downstairs?"

After a moment Lestat nodded. Louis stood and helped Lestat stand, putting an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

"First, let's get those bandages off of you." He took Lestat into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. Each white strip was gingerly removed and lain aside, making a small pile on the floor. Louis surprised at how much better he looked. The cuts had healed to where they were just thin lines, like red lace on Lestat's skin. He just wished he could see the psychological scars as well.

"We need to clean all of that blood off of you," Louis said, turning the water on and adjusting the temperature. Once he was certain it was perfect, he helped Lestat get in. His lover groaned in pleasure as the warm water washed over his body, soothing the sore spots.

"Louis...I think I'm going to fall asleep again," Lestat mumbled, eyes rapidly closing.

"Then fall asleep," Louis assured him. "I'll hold you."

A few seconds later he was sponging away the scarlet streaks from the pale body he held in one arm. Nothing mattered more right then than taking care of his maker. The guilt was still overwhelming.

"I'll always take care of you," he promised silently. "From now on, no more pain. Never again."

After fifteen minutes the water started to cool, so he let the drain open and turned on the radiator. By the time Lestat was exposed to the air, the room was almost uncomfortably hot. The towels above the radiator were now heated and exceedingly cozy, and dried Lestat before he could chill.

Lestat woke up as Louis finished. "Over already?" he smiled lazily.

Louis smiled back. "Come on, lover, time to go downstairs."

"But chere, I'm not wearing a stitch of clothing."

"Downstairs is warm enough, and I'll get you another blanket." Louis could see Lestat was still a little hesitant, so unlike his usual self. "You can lie down in my lap." That convinced him.

Slowly they made their way down the hall and stairs, then into the living room. At once, Lestat felt more at ease in the different surroundings. The bedroom was starting to make him nervous. They both sat down on a large sofa and Louis spread out the large knitted afghan over his body. This time, Lestat drank a decent amount of blood from Louis, but the large volume made him sleepy. He lay down with his head on Louis' lap and drifted off again. Half an hour later he woke up to find Mojo inside and asleep by the couch and Louis with another book in his hand.

"What're you reading?" he asked in a soft whisper, reaching down to scratch behind Mojo's ears.

"The Devil's Dictionary," Louis answered. "By Ambrose Bierce."

"What? I thought you hated that sort of thing."

"It's not Satanic," Louis smiled indulgently. "It's more like a cynic's dictionary. It's very good."

"Oh?" Lestat asked in a tone that asked for an explanation.

Louis flipped the pages to a fairly interesting passage. "Marriage: The state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress and two slaves, making in all, two."

Lestat smiled. "That sounds rather like us. Any other fun passages?"

Louis eagerly found another. It was so rare when Lestat took a genuine interest in his books that now he leaped at the opportunity. "King: A male person commonly known in America as a 'crowned head,' although he never wears a crown and has usually no head to speak of."

"Are you making fun of me, Louis?"

"Never, my prince, never."

Lestat smiled as Louis' fingers ran through his hair. "What else?"

"Weaknesses: Certain primal powers of Tyrant Woman wherewith she holds dominion over the male of her species, binding him to the service of her will and paralyzing his rebellious energies."

Lestat rose a hand to Louis' face, gently brushing his cheek. "Now I know you're making fun of me."

"What do you mean?"

"Substitute 'Louis' for 'Tyrant Woman' and 'Lestat' for 'male,' and you're describing our relationship."

"I don't control you, Lestat," Louis argued. "If anything, it's the other way around."

Lestat smiled knowingly. "No, Beautiful One, you're wrong. I belong to you. I would do anything for you."

Louis wanted to disagree, but he paused as he realized that Lestat was sincere. The Brat Prince was truly subservient to the weakest vampire in the coven. The idea both relieved and frightened him at once. He wanted to tell Lestat that he shouldn't be a slave, that there shouldn't be any domination or submission like that in their romance, that he wanted to love him as an equal and full partner. Instead he just smiled softly and kept reading aloud.

Things went fairly much like that for days, even after Lestat was fully healed. Night after night he lay stretched over Louis' lap, listening quietly as his lover read selections of poetry or bits and pieces out of his favorite stories, usually with Mojo asleep at their feet. Louis didn't mind, enjoying the quiet time that he had never been able to share with Lestat before. Besides, he knew that Lestat was still frightened of just about everything except his favorite fledgling and Mojo. Lestat rarely went out to hunt, preferring either to drink what Louis willingly provided or, if he had to leave, to just snatch one mortal right outside the house, dispose of the body, and dart back inside. Louis had to reassure himself that Lestat was getting better about staying out longer, but in two months so far the longest he had roamed was only twenty minutes.

One particular night Louis had actually brought up the subject, pausing in the middle of his book. He looked up at Lestat, who was sitting across from him on the sofa. "Lestat, love?"

"Oui, ma chere?" Lestat gazed at him from the other side of the fireplace.

"Have you eaten tonight?"

Lestat gave him a playful smirk, turning in his seat so that he could drape his legs over one arm of the sofa and lean back against the other. "I don't have to drink every night, you know."

Louis set his book down his lap and stared determinedly at Lestat. The blonde demon almost withered under his stare, knowing that a lecture was on its way.

"You may not have to drink each night, but you should eat more than a single mortal every other night, especially after what...happned. If you don't you might grow as weak as I am."

Lestat grinned. "Don't worry, I'll always be strong enough to force you into bed when I want to."

Louis sighed something under his breath. Lestat looked up sharply at his fledgling, silently asking him to speak up.

"I said," Louis responded reluctantly, "when will that be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Lestat, it's been over two months since you were attacked, but you still act as if you're terrified that something will pop out of the shadows at you. You are the strongest vampire in our coven, aside from the twins and Khayman, but you hardly eat and you haven't done anything other than listen to me read! What happened to the confident Brat Prince that used to drag me out to concerts and movies?"

"Who used to take you against your will," Lestat muttered dismally.

Louis moved beside the sofa, kneeling by Lestat and clasping his hands in his own. "Who used to take me to the very edge of ecstasy," he whispered intensely, staring straight into the blue eyes. "Who made me feel as if nothing could hurt me because I was protected."

Lestat was a little surprised by Louis' sudden outpouring of emotion. He looked down at his hands, held by his fledgling, and closed his eyes. "Not yet...soon, Louis, but I can't yet...I promise, though, soon."

"I wish I could make you feel as secure as you do for me," Louis sighed.

"But you do," Lestat insisted. "Why else would I cling to you so tightly right now? You're my anchor, Beautiful One, my life line. Just give me a little more time. Not much longer now."

Louis nodded slowly. "Take as long as you need. I'll be here for you."

"I know." Lestat smiled sadly as his fledgling stood again, then rose up beside him. "I'm going upstairs, chere. I'll see you at dawn." He leaned forward slightly to kiss him, then turned away and headed up to their room.

As soon as the door shut, Mojo let out a small whine and looked up at Louis. The vampire sighed and his shoulders drooped.

"You're worried about him as well, aren't you?" he whispered. He slid back onto the sofa, his head lowered in his hands. "Oh, Mojo, I love him and yet it seems as if I am his worst enemy. I do nothing but hurt him, and this time I nearly killed him, but he just keeps forgiving me..."

Mojo, as if he understood, walked over and pushed his nose up under Louis' face, trying to lick at him with his tongue. Louis smiled and dropped back, which let Mojo continue his assault by placing his front paws on the vampire's knees.

"I can see why he loves you," he said, stroking the dog's back and ears. "You're so persistent." He took a deep breath and gently pushed the animal down. "And I should be, too. I'd better go check on him, just to make certain he's all right. Stay here, and don't do anything indecent on the carpet."

Mojo barked at him, insulted at the idea, then circled three times and went to sleep.

Louis ascended the stairs, not making a sound, then walked down the hall and lay his hand on the doorknob to the bedroom. With a resolved breath, he turned the knob and silently walked in. The room was completely dark, so that it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust.

Lestat sat on the window seat, the pillow in his hands, just staring across the street and watching the humans stagger back and forth. Every few seconds he would sniffle and wipe his eyes with the end of the pillowcase. He didn't notice his fledgling's presence until Louis was next to him, and by that time it was impossible to hide the quiet tears or the despair in his eyes.

"Oh, ma chere," Louis broke out, putting his arms comfortingly around his lover. "Why are you sitting here alone?"

Lestat sighed and lay his head on Louis' shoulder, still staring at the night sky. "I don't know. Sometimes I just feel...like I have to be alone." He laughed humorlessly. "Sometimes I can't stand being the center of attention."

"If I've done something wrong, Lestat--"

"No, no, Louis, you've been wonderful. I've been doing this for years and years. It's just..." Lestat's voice became small and tame, "everytime life gets good, something happens to tear it apart."

Louis buried his face in Lestat's hair, holding him closer. "Oh, darling, I'm so, so sorry."

A full minute went by. Lestat looked up at him as if a thought had suddenly struck him. "What did you just call me?"

"Chere."

"No, after that."

Louis, terrified he had said something wrong, trembled as he answered. "I called you darling."

Lestat's eyes brimmed over with huge tears and he hugged Louis closer. Louis found it difficult to breathe in Lestat's python grip, but he just tightened his own hold, afraid Lestat might disappear.

"Lestat, what is it? What's wrong?"

"No one's ever called me that before," he answered, and his fledgling could hear the happiness in his voice. "No one ever loved me enough like that to say it. Say it again, please."

Louis smiled in relief. "Darling," he whispered, caressing Lestat's hair.

"Oh, God, you have no idea how good that feels," the blonde vampire choked on his tears.

Louis eased his right arm beneath Lestat's knees, his left arm around his back, and pulled his lover up, encouraged when Lestat threw his arms around his neck. "Lestat, you are my precious darling. My dearest."

"Don't stop, don't ever stop," Lestat was crying with joy. "This is better than sex."

Louis lay him down on the bed, taking the pillow from him and laying it behind his head. "I love you, darling. Let's see, there must be more in the English language than darling. Sweetheart? Beloved? Dear?" He stretched out next to Lestat, rising up on his elbows like a child. "Honey? Sugar? Pumpkin? Cupcake?"

Lestat started laughing through his tears. "I've gone from vampire to confectionary."

Louis was laughing as well, although he was only finally seeing how love-starved Lestat had been. To think that all it would have taken during those sixty years to drag his maker out of his shell was an affectionate pet-name. Poor Lestat never really believed anyone loved him, and to have some kind of proof, any kind of proof was driving him into delirious spasms of rapture.

"All lovers turn into food-items in enough time," he grinned.

Lestat looked at him with bright eyes. "And why is that?"

"Mmm, because I could just eat you up," Louis laughed lowly, kissing the tip of Lestat's nose. He snuggled closer to his maker and hugged him close. Their eyes were separated by mere inches. "Feeling better, beloved?"

"Much, much better." Lestat tilted his face up and gave his fledgling a long, deep, passionate kiss that was eagerly returned. "Never stop calling me 'darling', okay?"

"Or cupcake?"

"Well, just not in front of Armand."

A week later Lestat decided it was finally time. He no longer felt so anxious as he had earlier, although he still would not venture near the lower bedroom. Still, he was tired of staying at home and was in the mood for a serious celebration party. Perhaps one of those loud heavy metal concerts he sometimes enjoyed. Or maybe just a nice quiet jazz club, something he could take Louis to and lay back in his arms without anyone noticing. Nothing scary or threatening. But at least something, the house was getting monotonous.

Fitting that my boredom would drag me out of this, he smiled to himself.

Louis had already left to feed, so Lestat rose up out of bed, determined that this would be the last night that he slept in. He quickly dressed and made his way downstairs, but was surprised by the figure reading on the couch.

"Louis?" he asked softly. "You're home early."

Louis turned toward the staircase, setting his book down. His eyes glowed unusually bright green. "Not really. You slept in later than usual."

Lestat shrugged, wondering if that was true. "So what are you reading now?"

"Billy Budd."

"Never heard of it."

Louis was sitting right at the edge of the couch, so Lestat sat on his lap and then leaned back against the couch arm. It was a very comfortable position, at least for him. He wondered if he was a little heavy for Louis, then decided he wasn't. After all, he had been sleeping like this for the past few weeks and his fledgling hadn't said anything before.

"It's about a naive, young sailor who is victimized by corruption," Louis informed him.

"Sounds rather like you, love," the blonde vampire grinned. "Only infinitely more depressing."

Louis ran his fingers through Lestat's hair, relaxing him. "True, he has not lived a life as varied as mine. And he had no one like you, Lestat."

"Oh, so you do love me," Lestat laughed.

"So much so that I will take you away," Louis abruptly said, his demeanor changing instantly.

Lestat looked up into his fledgling's eyes, and instead of seeing the pure, green gentleness he had come to love, he saw red, boiling hatred pouring down over him. Louis' fingers suddenly twisted in Lestat's hair, pulling it tight so that he had a firm grip on him. Lestat cried out in pain as he was pulled off of the couch and flung onto the floor, where one impossibly strong arm wrapped around his own, pinning him down. He was dragged up and a large hand which ended in claws was clamped over his mouth, scratching his cheek in the process and silencing him.

Lestat craned his neck so that he could look into his fledgling's face, but instead of Louis, he saw cracked skin scorched black, bright red eyes and razor sharp teeth. Black leather wings stretched out behind it.

The demon! he thought in a panic. Louis was telling the truth! It's a demon, a real demon! He tried to free his arms or kick away, but the demon only laughed.

"You're such a fighter," it mocked him as it carried him to the front door. "Do you remember how I raped you, Lioncourt? I've been dreaming of another session ever since I left the first time. Louis invited me up, but once I got a taste of you...you're going to wish you were dead when I get through with you." He flicked one claw and sliced the skin just below Lestat's right eye just to show him he could.

The demon crashed through the door and started down the path. "It's fun to break beautiful things, Lioncourt. It's fun to watch them wither away in pain or anguish. And you're as beautiful as they come. You'll like hell. Well, as long as you're able to stand the heat. I'll enjoy watching your soul melt like one of your boyfriend's candles."

Lestat tried to break free, but the demon only tightened his grip, threatening to crush him. His vision was going dark as the air was forced out of him. His captor was just at the gates when a familiar figure turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Louis stared in shock at the demon who held Lestat as if he were a prize, and was walking out of the house with his spoils.

"You! What are you doing?!"

"He's mine, now, you can't have him!" the demon was whining like a real brat.

Louis' eyes narrowed in unrestrained rage. "Over my dead body!"

Louis leaped at the succubus, aiming his claws at its eyes. Neither the demon nor his captive had expected this, and they fell back against the pavement. With its grip loosened, Lestat managed to scramble away, stumbling to the wall covered in ivy. As soon as he had his breath back, he had every intention of helping his lover.

The succubus had no desire to face two vampires, however, and decided it would be more advantageous to fight the weaker one. It raised a clawed hand and waved it at the wall, where the Queen's Wreath Ivy suddenly took a life of its own, wrapping itself around Lestat's arms and waist. With an infernal strength, it dragged him down to the ground where more vines circled his legs and throat. He slashed at the coils, but it was difficult to strike all of them away when more would take their place.

Meanwhile the demon had pushed itself up again and was slashing at Louis, who ducked and dodged every strike while connecting with his own. With each duck, however, he backed up several feet, so that they quickly worked their way around the house and to the back yard.

"Why are you fighting me?" the succubus hissed. "You can't honestly want him!"

"And why not?" Louis growled. "I love him! And I won't let you take him away from me!"

"But all he's ever done is hurt you," the demon argued. "I saw it in your mind. He's enslaved you, hurt you, he forces you to bed and dominates you without any regret!"

"Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I like to be forced?" Louis retorted, retreating around the fountain. "That I want to be dominated? That I like being taken against my will?"

"That's insane," the demon roared. "That's like a woman wanting to be raped! It just isn't true!"

"There is a difference between Antonio Banderas not taking 'no' for an answer, and a stranger who attacks in the dark!" Louis dodged another strike. "You did more than rape Lestat that night, you raped me as well! I never wanted to do any of that! He finally let all of his guards down for me, and you ruined it. You nearly took my Brat Prince away from me!"

"He deserves to be punished!" the demon said, this time managing to connect with Louis, slashing his cheek. The weak vampire reeled from the blow to the face, slipping on the grass slick from the last rain. He fell hard on his side, gasping for breath.

Louis looked up in fear at the monster advancing on him. "I won't let you hurt him!" he cried defiantly.

The succubus didn't reply. Instead it raised its massive claws up into the air, ready to smash Louis into the ground. There was a blur from the right, moving at a rapid speed to strike the demon in the side and drive it into the ground. Louis recognized the blonde hair and the face, but the voice sounded more like an animal's than Lestat's. Torn vines still clung to his arms and legs.

"You won't hurt my fledgling!" Lestat snarled, ripping the demon's skin with his claws. With his preternatural speed and strength, Lestat was easy match for the succubus now that he was no longer afraid. He couldn't afford to be afraid. Louis' life was in danger.

"You're both sick," the demon managed to gasp out, its jaw almost completely smashed. Lestat rammed his fist into the black chest and found the heart, ripping it out of the body. "Both so sick..." Finally the demon stopped breathing, and its body disappeared into nothing.

Lestat looked at his hand. There heart had vanished as well. He sighed in relief, then turned to Louis, who still lay on the ground. The elder took his lover's face in his hands, examining the damage done to his cheek. He sighed sadly, wondering how much it must hurt. Louis started to cry softly.

"What's wrong, chere?" Lestat asked, concerned that there might be a more serious injury he did not know about.

Louis looked up at his maker. "Will I still be your Beautiful One?"

Lestat smiled as he wiped the vines off of himself, slightly amused at his fledgling's fear of disfigurement and touched that it was more for his maker than himself.

"You will be fine, Louis." He raised one finger to his fangs and slashed the tip, then traced Louis' wound, leaving a trail of blood on the skin. The gash healed in a few moments. "My sweet, you can be so silly sometimes."

"Is it really dead?" Louis asked.

"Yes, it is. I can ask David about it later, but I'm fairly certain it's gone." He eased his arms beneath Louis and lifted him into his arms, carrying him inside. "Poor Louis, I believe you've exhausted yourself."

"Fighting a demon is tiring," Louis smiled faintly. His smile faded as Lestat continued to carry him upstairs. "Lestat, where are we going?"

"To the bedroom, of course. For a victory celebration." He opened the door and walked into the room. "To hell with the jazz club."

"Lestat, I'm exhausted! I can't possibly do anything tonight."

"Then I'll do everything, Louis. I sure don't mind abusing you."

"Don't you dare! You brat, I will not be treated in such a manner--" He had to stop as Lestat abruptly dropped him on the bed.

"Honestly, chere, if you didn't like this, then you shouldn't have said that you like being forced."

Louis stared up in surprise. "You heard that?"

"Beautiful One, half of New Orleans heard you. You were rather loud, especially for someone usually so righteous." Lestat jumped up onto the bed, straddling Louis' hips with his knees and pushing his wrists down above his head. "That's all right, though. Now that I know you like to be forced--"

"Lestat!"

"Just pretend that I'm Antonio Banderas, sweet, and I won't take 'no' for an answer. It's my turn to be on top again. Now, are you going to cooperate or do I have to tie you to the bed?"

Louis relaxed in resignation. "Well, if you put it that way..."

"Tied up it is!" Lestat crowed in delight.

"What!" Louis didn't know where Lestat got the cuffs, but almost immediately he felt the metal snap around his left wrist.

"Let's just get those arms out of the way," the blonde vampire grinned, pulling his fledgling's arms up to the center bed post and binding him down.

Once that was done, Lestat ignored the irritated glare Louis was giving him, and instead started to undo the buttons on Louis' shirt. The fledgling's pants soon followed, and soon he was left completely vulnerable beneath his lover. Lestat removed his clothing as well, leaning possessively over his captive. He could tell that Louis was about to argue again, so he covered his mouth with his own, quieting him quickly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Louis' hands flexing uselessly. His prisoner's body stiffened beneath him with anticipation of what would come next. He ran his hands down Louis' sides, shamelessly feeling him up. Suddenly he paused, leaning back for a moment.

"Do you like this?" he grinned, staring deeply into Louis' emerald eyes.

"Very much," Louis moaned softly. "Why did you stop?"

"Because you said you were tired."

"You shouldn't listen to me so much."

"Well, that's an invitation if I ever heard one," Lestat almost laughed as he smothered Louis' faces in kisses, then moved down to his throat and chest. Every soft spot was caressed and aroused, bringing Louis closer and closer to a vampiric climax. The fact that he was helpless only made it more desirable. When Lestat clamped down on his throat and finally drank, all of his muscles seemed to go limp. The relief was so exquisite that he was sorry when it was over.

"My Prince," he sighed blissfully. "My darling Prince..."

"I thought I was Antonio Banderas."

"You really want me to fantasize about Armand?"

"Armand?"

"Tom Cruise, Brat Pitt, and Antonio--"

"Oh, you'll pay for that. I hate that movie. Take that!"

"Lestat! No, don't--not there--I can't--darling, please--oh, don't stop..."

"I told you I could still force you," Lestat smiled, not taking the cuffs off.

"That is wonderful. I wish it could go on forever."

"And why not?" Lestat stole a kiss from Louis. "I don't mind keeping this up, and you're not going anywhere."

As his lover started up again, Louis just surrendered himself to his advances. Nothing could be more pleasurable than when Lestat took advantage of him. Every touch sent tingles up and down his body.

"I'm so glad you're back," Louis suddenly said.

"So am I," Lestat agreed, kissing him again. "I wish I had done this sooner. It's nice having you at my mercy."

Louis smiled seductively. "I thought you said I controlled you through my weaknesses."

"You do. But I can't help it if I take advantage of your weaknesses sometimes."

"Lestat?"

"Yes, Beautiful One?"

"I love you, Cupcake."

Lestat smirked. "And I love you, Pumpkin."