Louis has a personal cell phone that he carries himself now, stowed gracelessly in a pocket instead of tended to by Rachid, all messages screened before they find their way to Louis. Two people have this number, and one of them can do this, reach out and touch his mind and speak into it.

(Lestat populates a lively text chain with emoji and French, a language Louis has let molder on his tongue for so long that it no longer comes easy to him. He smiles often, parsing out Lestat's messages.)

He is smiling now, mind opening further to invite Daniel close, project easy welcome back to him.

I was thinking of you, Louis tells him. But I know interruptions fuck up your flow.

And Louis still means what he'd said: he doesn't want to intrude on Daniel's work, on Lestat's interview.

Where are you today?

Daniel ranging across America while the Vampire Lestat wins the hearts of stadiums full of mortals. Louis wandering across continents, retracing steps taken decades ago alongside Armand. Seeking. Collecting.