Lestat grimaced, but changed the subject: "Shall we greet our friend?" he asked. "He's aware of us now."
"I see," Lestat muttered, ignoring Edward. "What do you plan to do about it?"
Lestat frowned when he heard Edward. I will do what I can, he muttered, and then shut the werewolf out, the hunter's horse coming into view. "Something's wrong with your girl," he added aloud to John, not sure if he knew.
Wonderful, Lestat laughed, speeding forward along the road. He could smell the hunter's horse stronger than the werewolf himself, and Lestat smiled wider. He's not very conspicuous, he said to John, and then heard Edward's thought. The man's tone of voice made him a little worried; he sounded sad, not as angry and powerful as usual. Nothing I know of, he answered honestly. We're finding the hunter... on a whim of mine, of course. I want to know his motives, reasons for what he's up to. Out of curiosity, why do you inquire on the subject all of a sudden?
"Sorry," Van Helsing grimaced, touching her shoulder lightly. "I should have caught him sooner, before he hurt you. Son of a b.itch," he muttered under his breath, angry with himself. OOC: dammit, i poosted vanny in lestats window! oh well... whatever lol
Lestat grinned. Well, then, he sighed to John, almost excited. Shall we find him and give him a little scare for bothering our special group?
Lestat smiled to himself. I'd still love to teach him a lesson... he sighed, almost to himself.
OOC: angelyn, your book is frikkin awesome right now! and its KILLING me! lol i shall send you what i has whe its typed up. oh, and btw, the reason we arent on a lot in the last few days is A GIANT VIRUS ATE OUR COMPUTER! im not kidding; im writing this on my dad's laptop because the desktop is with the geek squad getting fixed! arrrggghhh! but it shal be better soon! we loves you TONS!!!!!
Lestat was still hungry. He chuckled to himself, amazed that so little blood satisfied him now. It's all in my head, he thought. I could go for months without eating if I liked... and I'd feel no fatigue whatsoever. But the thrill of killing is just too good to pass up. John, he muttered at the man suddenly, wanting something to do as he drifted out of the town, not bothering to pay for his rented room. What's become of that hunter? I can't tell where he is. yay for 3800! TEEHEE.
Lestat tensed, his hands twitching like a breeze through the night. Help her? he thought to himself, almost incredulously. No... but her mind can tell me if she's telling the truth or not... He reached out, shutting his eyes, taking little memories out of the girl's head, painlessly, so she would not notice as she eyed the man's gun with fear. He could see her in his mind's eye now: working, serving tables, helping people to rented rooms, cleaning floors, closing shop, all talking to no one most of the time... "Please," the girl pleaded now. "I'm telling you the truth. Let me be." She is, Lestat sighed in his head. Stupid humans... The man wasn't convinced, and Lestat could see him step toward the girl now, and she backed against the alley's wall, her eyes full of fear. "Just listen-" the girl began in desperation now, but the man lifted the gun and shot above his head, the sound echoing off the nearest walls and cutting off her sentence. The man pushed the hot muzzle of the gun against the girl's cheek and she screamed in pain as it burnt her skin. Enough, Lestat decided, and whipped behind the man, a whisp of wind. He drove his forearm hard into the side of the man's head, sending him off balance. Lestat grabbed his arm now, twisting his wrist till he heard a sickening snap, breaking the bone and causing the gun to fall to the floor. The girl was frozen in fear against the wall, not able to see who was attacking the man in front of her. The man wheeled around, trying to see Lestat. The vampire chuckled, his eyes fading black. "This isn't your night, is it?" he whispered aloud, and the man took a swing at him with his good fist, hitting air. Lestat chuckled. "Can't manage to find anyone your size, can you? A poor girl and an opponent you can't even see... no middle ground for you." Lestat grabbed the man's hair, dragging him by it to the other side of the alley, slamming him hard against it. He let himself materialize out of the shadow now, and laughed at the man's gasp of fear. Lestat yanked his head up, exposing his throat at an extreme angle. "You don't deserve to live," Lestat snapped, nicking his fangs along the man's neck painfully. "But you don't really deserve to die, either." Before the man could cry out again, Lestat sunk his teeth deep into the neck, drawing as painfully as he could on the hot, rush of blood that hit the roof of his mouth and coursed sweetly down his throat. He let the man go a moment later, letting him slide down the dirty floor, his broken wrist, bruised face, and torn neck hardly visible in the dark. Lestat knelt by him, grinning with his sharp, stunning teeth. "I've drained you to the point of death," he whispered sharply, his eyes on fire with delight. "If I leave you here, you will die... and that is what I intend to do, because it will take a while. And just make sure you don't crawl away or scream again..." He pulled a spare handkerchief out of his vest pocket and tied it around the man's head, gagging him silently. Then he stood, smiling, and stamped hard on the man's ankles, breaking them both under one of his boots. The sound made him flinch, and the man's howl of pain was barely audible through his weak, almost dead state and gag. Lestat turned to the girl now, whose hands were gripping the wall behind her in shock, as if it were holding her up and conscious. "Don't be afraid," he said politely. "You can go, mon cherie. I let the honest ones live. Oh, and," he added as she nodded mechanically and stepped toward the lighter side of the alley. "If anyone asks, you were robbed. Tell your family an angel saved you and let you live." With that, he turned back the way he came, drifting into the nearest shadow once more and speeding faster than usual off in the direction the carriages had taken. Oh, John, he sighed to himself. If only you could see me now... and now that's about the tenth of the damage I could actually do... He laughed.
Lestat froze in the shadow of the nearest alley, some voices down the narrow, dark walls drifting toward him. He listened, careful not get too close even though he was invisible to the human eye. "I don't know what you are so worried about!" came a woman's voice, worried, a little upset. Lestat focused more on the sound: young, maybe twenty at the most. He analyzed the next tone that spoke, and flinched back slightly: enraged, almost insane, a loud male presence. "Like hell you don't! What am I supposed to expect, night after night when you're gone? Don't like to me where you've been." Lestat could feel the girl's fear in the air, as if he could grab it if he reached out his shadow of a hand, or taste it on the tip of his tongue if he opened his mouth. He heard her whispered reply: "I cannot lie to you. I've been working late at the tavern. There are many travelers to clean up after-" "Enough!" the man snapped, and Lestat heard the distinct click of gun's hammer, almost as if the man's sanity disappeared as he leveled a bullet into place inside the weapon.
Lestat walked along the streets of the little town, too lazy to even stay materialized in the nearest shadow of the evening. He saw a crowd gathered, and decided it would be best to drift into the nearest shade of dark as he walked near. They were all gathered around the body of a young girl, shot through the head and the chest, her blood dried on the ground. "Who would do something like this?" one of the villagers muttered. "Her family mysteriously gone, and now poor Claire is murdered?" "Van Helsing," someone else in the ground muttered. Lestat realized now: Ah, Edward's little sister. Pity... He walked away, toward the nearest alley, where he usually found some sport.
"So much for finishing that little conversation," Lestat sighed when John left. "Well, this little town would be much disappointed if I didn't visit a few inhabitants before I left." As he drifted into the nearest shadow, laughing silently to himself, Lestat thought of a time with Louis; memories of his friend seemed to come up too often when he was around John, unbidden, unconscious nostalgia: "Are you not hungry, Master?" That was what the girl... what was her name? Ah, Yvette, had asked him. My dear Louis had replied with his heroic, self-righteous silence, a small shake of the head. I couldn't help but laugh: "Oh, contraire, mon cher; he could eat the whole colony!"
"You're right," Lestat said calmly. "They may not be that smart... but Edward is."
"I'm sure your girl's little group will figure it out," Lestat replied. "I'm counting on it."
"I wouldn't want him to," Lestat replied coldly. "Besides, I'm not counting on him to be dead, thanks to your girl and her friends."
"If I was willing to teach," Lestat sighed. "I doubt it, though."
"Yes, that's what I thought," Lestat sighed. "Not even strong enough for that. You disappoint me. But, since I'm a fan of yours, I'll tell you what I did." Lestat stepped away, giving John the space he knew he wanted. "The mother," he began quietly, almost in a whisper, his voice thick with emotion, "the mother of all vampires... gave me... a gift. A gift greater than anything an immortal can ask for. Her blood. John," he said a little louder, stepping toward him again. "She let me drink from her neck. The mother of all vampires! Do you have... any idea of the knowledge and power I possess because of that? Along with the stories I've learned from normal vampires, ranging from newborns to those over four thousands years old... I don't think there is a thing some... Dracula can teach me."
Lestat growled under his breath, and took a step toward John, his face now and inch from the other man's. He lowered his head, looking up at John from under his eyebrows. His eyes were a piercing, deadly shade of bronze. "Have you ever wondered..." he began slowly, his voice deep and filled with the nostalgia of his memories. "Have you ever even considered or dreamt about where we came from? No, no," he snapped when Jogn opened his mouth. "Not our makers; not even their makers. The first, John. The... very... first... vampires." Lestat stepped away now, pacing slowly, his cloak billowing behind him as he straightened his laced collar. "I have met them," he said suddenly, snapping his gaze back to John. "I have... spoken with them when they have not moved or uttered anything to even their keepers for the last three centuries. And you know what else I've done?" His voice rose now, almost to a scream. He strode back over to John, their faces close once more. "Just... guess," he hissed. "Guess, John."
"Perhaps," Lestat shrugged. "I'm not really planning to speak with the man... vampire, I should say. I'm sure he's impressive, but... I'm not interested; there are other occurrences of more importance that will take place soon."
