Questions pile up. None that helpfully serve the goal of extricating Daniel from Armand's clutches, and are rightfully deferred.

Louis makes himself a blanketing presence inside Daniel's mind. The impression of his atrium, the scent of earth. Warmth. Faint notes, piano, perhaps. Pebbles and stone rolling underfoot.

I'm coming, words like a melody. Words like a decree from on high.

It is enough. What he has from Daniel will be enough. Louis will put it into the head of someone who knows. Who can direct him.

Sleep can wait. Louis can't afford the delay. All things sacrificed in this pursuit, money, humans drained dry, and perhaps Louis' newly gained freedom, it is all deemed necessary. Essential.

Hold on a little longer for me. I'm coming.