And Louis watches him go, anxiety plain in his face now that Daniel's attention elsewhere. The churn of emotion doesn't ebb. Grief and guilt and anger and fear, washing together in his body. He left Daniel unprotected. It doesn't matter that he'd never have guessed that Armand would make a fledgling. Armand surprised him.
Louis hadn't been able to stop him.
But Daniel goes, and Louis straightens. Maybe has some similar animal instincts that balk at encroaching on what Armand has left for Daniel, hesitate over how many how much.
Remembers how much he had wanted, how the thirst had felt bottomless. Like it would swallow him. Like it would tear him apart if he didn't sate it. (Louis' gift, this prodigious hunger, this love of his prey.)
Stood there among blank-eyed humans, skimming their minds and finding nothing at all, Louis has the urge to press farther. Find Armand. Scream into his head.
He sinks his fangs into the throat of the nearest unresisting mortal instead. The man's life flows into Louise' mouth as he hangs limply from Louis' arms. (Shades of the tenor from so many years ago: a sweet life, a little sailboat, a father swinging him up into his arms.) Louis drains him down to nothing and lays him down. Feels the blood in his body. Listens to Daniel, still alive. Still here.
Drains a second mortal, the sweet-faced woman sat on the settee. (A little dog, a half-completed canvas on an easel, a woman turning in her arms beneath a white sheet.) Feels sick. Feels anger.
Louis leaves the rest. Practical, isn't it? Having prey that will make it easy for Daniel to learn. Crosses back into that blood-splattered bedroom, mouth painted red.
no subject
Louis hadn't been able to stop him.
But Daniel goes, and Louis straightens. Maybe has some similar animal instincts that balk at encroaching on what Armand has left for Daniel, hesitate over how many how much.
Remembers how much he had wanted, how the thirst had felt bottomless. Like it would swallow him. Like it would tear him apart if he didn't sate it. (Louis' gift, this prodigious hunger, this love of his prey.)
Stood there among blank-eyed humans, skimming their minds and finding nothing at all, Louis has the urge to press farther. Find Armand. Scream into his head.
He sinks his fangs into the throat of the nearest unresisting mortal instead. The man's life flows into Louise' mouth as he hangs limply from Louis' arms. (Shades of the tenor from so many years ago: a sweet life, a little sailboat, a father swinging him up into his arms.) Louis drains him down to nothing and lays him down. Feels the blood in his body. Listens to Daniel, still alive. Still here.
Drains a second mortal, the sweet-faced woman sat on the settee. (A little dog, a half-completed canvas on an easel, a woman turning in her arms beneath a white sheet.) Feels sick. Feels anger.
Louis leaves the rest. Practical, isn't it? Having prey that will make it easy for Daniel to learn. Crosses back into that blood-splattered bedroom, mouth painted red.
"Daniel?"