Home / Fan Fiction / V(cough) C(cough) fic / Stand Alone Stories / Queen of the Damned Hollywood Style

DISCLAIMER: The following stories are all non-profit, amateur efforts not intended to infringe on the rights of Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, David Geffen, Warner Brothers, Geffen Pictures, Knopf, Randomhouse, the city of New Orleans, the U.S. Constitution, any copyright holders that I might not have thought of or even a certain author who shall remain nameless but who has a set of initials which are, coincidentally enough, just one letter off from spelling "B.S."

Queen of the Damned, Hollywood Style
by The Brat Queen
June, 2000

Second Place - Best Satire! (2000)

Summary: QotD as Hollywood might do it, in response to Jacqueline's challenge which said: "Reconstruct the plot of QotD the way the film-makers probably will. Use only Lestat and Jesse (who must fall in love with each other) and Akasha. Talamasca is optional. (Louis, Armand, Daniel, Maharet etc may NOT make appearances or even be referred to.)"

Characters: Lestat, Jesse, Akasha Spoilers: None, by definition.

Author's Note: Tempting as it is to do an all-out parody I decided to add in a more serious note just for the Hell of it. Plus I think angst is fun, but that's just me. But if you think I'm getting a detail wrong - such as a name, location, weather pattern or so on - just remember I'm writing this as Hollywood would do it and not how a writer concerned with research would. Call it angstful satire, if you will. In any event, I hope you find it enjoyable.

"Falling away from me…."

Jessica Reaves moaned and turned over in her bed, reaching out to slap down the off button on her alarm clock. "Bloody American bands," she muttered, burrowing her head under her pillowcase.

It was Saturday, which meant that she really didn't have to wake up early at all. Wouldn't have had to, in fact, since she was on holiday. But she had set her alarm anyway, knowing that if she didn't she would stay in bed too late. She couldn't chance that.

After a few moments of dark, blissful silence she emerged from under her pillow and dragged herself out of bed. She blinked a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the light and then bent down to pick up her clothes and get dressed.

At 17 years old Jessica was a remarkably neat girl. Unlike the rooms of her friends, hers was smartly organized with little more than stacks upon stacks of bookcases, CDs and computer equipment. Few of her friends understood it, but the order of it made sense to her and made it easy for her to quickly find and grab whatever it was she was looking for.

Even her clothes were remarkably tidy. From the pile she had left out the night before she pulled on a pair of tight jeans, a belly-exposing green halter top and platform sandals, all of which hugged and held on to her body in easy, clean lines. Her platinum-blond hair fell down her back in a single straight cape which she quickly tied up in a kerchief. She paused a moment to throw her cell phone and a few books into her backpack then left the room.

"I'm going out," she called, not stopping to check if anyone had heard her. It didn't matter either way. Ever since her folks had gone she'd lived with her aunt and uncle, and neither one of them really cared about what she did so long as her grades were good. As long as she passed her exams properly her allowance remained firm. It was an arrangement she could live with.

A pleasant spring day greeted her as she stepped outside of her aunt and uncle's Highgate town home. The sun was shining, there was hardly a cloud in the sky and she could even hear the birds as they began to wake up. She decided to take this as a good omen.

Forgoing the use of her personal P.T. Cruiser, she began walking uphill and towards the cemetery.

She had some research to do.

The atmosphere around Highgate cemetery was rich and humid. Ivy and weeds grew up around each of the tombstones and crypts. Jessica found herself having to take careful steps to keep from tripping in the tall grass.

"And this," the prim woman who served as the tour guide for Jessica and about fifteen other people, "is the main carriageway. As you can see it's large enough for several carriages to come through and then exit outside of the other gate. It was this way that bodies were brought to the cemetery for burial years ago." The tour guide paused for a moment and adjusted her wire rimmed glasses. "This concludes our tour of Highgate cemetery, ladies and gentlemen. If there are no further questions you may leave through that gate over there. Please be aware of the deposit box on the wall for any donations you may care to give."

"I have a question," Jessica said. She stepped forward to make sure she was seen. "What about the Highgate vampire?" One of the other tourists in her group snickered.

Jessica ignored this and kept her eyes on the tour guide.

The guide stared back at her, the look in her eyes clearly indicating that she wondered how people like Jessica were permitted to walk freely in modern society. "There is no such thing."

"But -"

"If you'll please follow me outside, ladies and gentlemen," the guide said. She motioned the crowd towards the exit with a slow, swooping motion of her hand.

"But this book says so," Jessica said, pulling out a copy of _Vampires Among Us_ from her backpack. The book fell open to the necessary page easily. "The Highgate vampire. It was in all of the papers! What was it?"

"There is no such thing, now good day," the tour guide said. With another swoop of her arm she ushered Jessica outside of the gate and then firmly locked it behind her.

Jessica's mouth opened, then closed in shock. She allowed herself a good-natured kick on the gate's ornate ironwork then sat down against the cemetery's stone wall. "Bitch," she muttered. "See if I contribute to your restoration funds."

The sun had risen higher in the sky in the two hours it had taken for the tour to be completed. Jessica scooted over to a shady spot, deciding to rest a moment before beginning the walk home. She wiped a drop of sweat out of her eyes. The day promised to be warm, an odd contrast to the cold graves around her.

"What was your deal?" she asked softly, looking around at all of the tombstones she could see. She looked down at her book which now rested in her lap, still open to the page in question. "What happened?"

"A hoax, or so they say."

Jessica looked up in surprise. Above her, having appeared almost by magic, was an elderly gentleman. In contrast to the heat around them he wore a dark woolen trenchcoat and his silver-grey hair was covered by a black bowler hat. He smiled down at her and pointed to the book in her hands with the end of his gold-tipped cane. "You are wondering about the vampire, are you not?"

"Yes," Jessica said. She looked up at the man with interest. He was more than old enough to have been alive when everything happened. "Do you know about it?"

"I know quite a bit, my dear," he said. He smiled down at her, looking almost like Santa Claus as he did. "If you would be kind enough to join an old man in a cup of tea I'd be happy to tell you all about it."

Jessica needed no further invitation. She quickly scooped up her possessions then followed the man to a nearby café. They took a table outside and waited until a waitress brought them their drinks and some muffins.

"Ah, sunlight," he said as he took off his hat and rested it on the table next to his cane. "It feels quite good, doesn't it? I can't imagine what it would be like if I couldn't enjoy it. Rather like them, don't you think?" he nodded in the direction of the cemetery.

Jessica looked back at the cemetery and shrugged it off. She didn't like the image of those rotting bodies in her mind. Somehow the thought of being trapped inside of a coffin ran shivers down her spine. "I suppose," she said. She took a sip of Coke to clear her throat. "You said you know about the vampire?"

"Forgive me," he said. "Yes, I did. But please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Aaron Talbert. I'm a … scholar, of sorts. A scholar of the arcane, if you will. Here, my card."

Jessica reached out and took the offered card. It was a simple black and white affair which read "Aaron Talbert, Talamasca scholar" and listed a fax and phone number.

"Talamasca?" she asked. She'd never heard of them.

"A very old institution," Aaron replied. "Privately owned. But interested in all sorts of matters of the occult. Rather like you, I expect."

Jessica took another sip of her Coke in order to collect her thoughts. It was true she had an occult interest, had had one, in fact, since she was a little girl. But surely this man couldn't tell that just by looking at her, could he?

"The Highgate vampire was a very interesting case," Aaron said. He poured cream into his tea and stirred it gracefully. "Particularly for someone like me, as you might imagine. My coworkers and I investigated every aspect of the events. In the end I'm afraid we were not able to find anything conclusive."

"Oh," Jessica said. She tried not to show her disappointment. By the way Aaron had talked, it had sounded as though he knew something.

"I suspect," Aaron said, continuing as if he hadn't heard her, "that it was nothing more than a mere mortal trying to take advantage of the publicity around the Dracula movie, which came out at that time as you know. Or perhaps it was someone acting on behalf of the studio itself. But not, I'm afraid, a member of the undead properly. Not like the vampire of the British Museum."

Jessica choked on her drink. "The what?"

Aaron looked at her calmly, as though they were merely discussing the weather. "The British Museum vampire. Tricky creature, that one. He arrived with a shipment of spoils from the Nazi government during World War Two. Gave the curators quite a surprise when they opened up a case of what they thought were Roman vases only to find that looking them in the face." Aaron shook his head in a manner that was not unlike bemusement. "Fortunately we were able to take care of it."

"Take care of it?" Jessica asked, her voice not quite sure of itself. Her intelligence was telling her to get away from this crazy man, but something inside of her made her stay seated. He sounded so sure.

Aaron nodded as he took a sip of his tea. "Yes. It was quite easy, all things considered. Fortunately they had opened the crate during the day so it was really just a matter of waiting for the sun to come out behind the clouds. Rather ironic that it was such a rainy day, all things considered," he added, laughing.

"Wait a minute- " Jessica said. She held out her hand to forestall any comments Aaron might make. She found herself instinctively pulling back out of her chair. "What are you… You're talking like vampires are real or something!"

"Yes," Aaron said.

Jessica blinked. "Yes? That's all you have to say about it, yes? Do you realize - do you even understand how you sound right now?" Jessica shook her head and finally intellect won over. She got up out of her chair and got ready to leave, gathering her things as quickly as she could.

"Jessica, wait, please. All I ask is for you to hear me out."

Jessica's eyes narrowed as she looked back at Aaron. "How did you know my name?"

As if in response, Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. He held it out for her. "Look."

Stunned, not sure why she complied, she took it. Inside was fine grey powder. "What…?"

"Open it. Here," he indicated she should pour it out on the table.

Slowly, carefully, she did as he said. The powder made a sand-like hissing sound as it fell out of its glass container onto the tablecloth. Unable to help herself, she reached out and touched the tiny pile. She immediately jerked her hand back with a small cry.

"It burns!" she said, cradling her finger to her chest. Her eyes were wide as she stared back and forth between him and the pile.

"I know," Aaron said. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking then pulled out another vial, this one filled with red liquid. "Rat's blood," he said by way of explanation. He unplugged this vial and let a few drops fall onto the pile.

There was a hiss, more like a sizzle this time, as the blood made contact. A small plume of smoke rose as the two elements connected and began to interact. There was a pause, then suddenly the grey powder came to life, jerking and twisting under the influence of the blood.

"Oh my God…" Jessica whispered, horror stricken. This was real. This was too terribly real.

"Vampire ash," Aaron explained. "Blood is the only thing which keeps them alive."

"God…" she said again. Her heart was pounding as she watched this mass, this thing squirm on the table like some sort of psychotic worm. She pressed a thin hand against her mouth, feeling certain she would be ill.

"Vampires are real, Jessica. You know this to be true, don't you? You've always known, haven't you?"

She shook her head, but not in denial. She was trying to rid herself of the image, of the feelings inside of her, of the voice in her head that was telling her he was right.

"You've been looking your entire life, Jessica. Ever since you were a little girl you've studied them, haven't you? Almost like an obsession."

She nodded now, tears in her eyes. It was true.

"Don't you want to know the answers, Jessica? Don't you want to know what you've been looking for all this time is there? That you are not alone?"

"Y-yes," she said, moving her hand away from her mouth long enough to speak. She gestured helplessly towards the still-moving thing on the table. "Please," she said, waving sharply at it as though that would make it go away. This was insane. It was totally insane. Surely she was dreaming. Surely she was still back in bed, her head under the pillow, dreaming the strange dreams that only come from half-wakefulness. That was the only explanation. Otherwise how else could this be happening? How else could this man know?

Aaron did not look at her as he reached out with his knife and edged the living mass out of the shadows of their plates and into the sunlight where it immediately turned back into ash. He collected it carefully, putting it back into its vial. "You're very much awake, Jessica," he said, and Jessica held no doubt that he had somehow read her thoughts. "But no, you are not insane. Nor is any of this. Not, unless, you feel that discovering the real reason why your parents died is some sort of form of insanity."

The world in front of Jessica's eyes turned into a swirl of white. By some miracle of will she was able to remain upright, but inside her mind was on fire. "So it's true, isn't it?" she asked, not sure if she had truly spoken the words aloud or merely thought them.

"Yes," Aaron said. "And I can lead you to the one who killed them."

Somewhere on the other side of the globe The Vampire Lestat stood by a windowsill and stared out at the world around him, waiting for the sun to rise.

The place was called New Orleans, or so he was told. It was a historic place, which he was told as well. It seemed as though it might be. He looked out over it with dark eyes and thought to himself that this was a place of some sort of past, of some kind of history. The buildings around him seemed to say that.

But he could not, truly, claim to know if this was true. Or even, for that matter, if it truly was New Orleans.

Or even what New Orleans was.

He brought a hand up to the windowpane, pressing his fingertips against it and feeling the odd dichotomy of temperatures inside of it as the cold, conditioned air from inside met the warm, humid air from outside. Somewhere in the middle he could feel them neutralize and come together to form no temperature at all.

A void.

Lestat closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the windowpane as well. His light brown hair fell down into his face.

Outside of his room he could hear noise. If he focused himself long enough he could switch back and forth between sounds in much the same way as one could switch channels. From beyond the window were people, not very many at this late hour but people still who walked around and held hands and talked in loud and soft conversations. From beyond his door were other people, stronger, different. Not vampires but not real mortals either.

These people could control him.

They were friends, of course. They were on his side, of course. They were there for him, of course. They had saved him, of course.

They had told him all of this, of course.

He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember how they had met, or where they had come from. He could not remember how it had come to pass that he was with them now and why it was so very important that he stay and not leave. This was a vital matter, him staying. Very vital that he stay with their company and trust in their logic and planning. Very bad should he go away and cause mishap with their plans.

He had agreed to this. At some time he had. It was not a time he could remember, but it had somehow happened.

He couldn't remember any of it. Couldn't remember anything further back than this, than being in dark hotel rooms in cities they told him the name of doing things they told him to do. He tried. Often. He tried to think back and try to remember but nothing would come. It was all flashes and light and even pain, if he was tired enough. Sometimes he could remember pain. Pain, perhaps, that they had saved him from.

He should remember more. He knew it possible to remember more. He knew himself to be old enough to remember far, far more. He was older than this. He was, deep down, centuries older than he seemed. His face, so impossibly young, was merely a young man, a mere babe compared to the years he knew he carried in his heart. He knew himself to be old enough by centuries.

His memory only knew enough to be old by months.

Months, maybe a year. Maybe a year of being with these people, maybe a year of not truly knowing. Maybe a year of being able to somehow remember what had happened the night before last.

Lestat held on to this. In his mind he held on firmly to this small sliver, this small idea of memory, this small bit of reality in the midst of everything else. He held on to it and comforted himself with it as best he could.

It was, along with his singing, the only thing he had.

"The existence of vampires is something that has been known for millennia," Aaron told Jessica. They had long since left the café and were now walking aimlessly down the curving streets of Highgate. "Every culture in the world has a vampire legend of some kind. It is only modern society which has tried to deny it."

"So they are real then?" Jessica asked. She wished she could be taking notes.

"Yes," Aaron said. "Of course there are different kinds. Mortals that drink blood, psychics that do not drink but do steal energy, but the kind most think of, the walking undead, is real."

"Even today."

"Even ten years ago."

Ten years ago, when her parents had died. "Is that why you know about me? Because of my parents?"

Aaron nodded. "Yes. We knew of the attack on your parents but only after the fact. Do you remember much about it yourself?"

Jessica shook her head. "Not really. It's all a blur. I was in the house when they were attacked but I didn't really see anything. It was over so quickly. My therapist told me what I thought I saw was just fantasy, delusions to help me get over the shock."

"What did you see?"

She shrugged, looking away. "A man, bending over them. His face pressed to my mother's neck right here -" she indicated with her hand. "My therapist said it was just a regular attack."

"But you knew different."

"I saw…" Jessica trailed off, finding it hard to hold on to the images in her mind and speak the words at the same time. The memories flashed by so quickly, each coming in tiny snatches that refused to show a full detail. "Blood."

"Blood," Aaron repeated, confirming it.

"Yes," Jessica said. She clenched her hands into fists. "Blood. On him. I can't - I can't remember his face but I remember the blood. It was all around his lips, his mouth…"

"You knew it was a vampire attack."

"Yes," she said. She looked back at Aaron. "No matter what anyone else said. I was there. I saw it."

Aaron nodded, motioning for her to continue.

"No one would listen, though," she said. "I tried to tell people but they didn't care. I finally gave up. My aunt and uncle would never let me quit therapy otherwise. But I never gave up. I knew I had to find the thing that killed them. Do something to it before it hurt anyone again."

"You were right, Jessica," Aaron said. He almost smiled at her. "That was why we noticed you. We kept an eye on you after their deaths, of course, but we did not want to approach. It wasn't until we saw that you were determined to learn that we decided to reveal ourselves. This is a great opportunity for you, if you wish to learn the truth."

"There are more of these things out there?" she asked. "Not just him?"

"Yes," Aaron said. "Many more. But right now he is our greatest concern."

Jessica frowned. "Because of me?"

Aaron grinned before turning sober again. "In part, yes. But not just you. You see, the creature who killed your parents vanished not long after their attack but he has just recently come back and intends to cause even more trouble than before."

"More trouble?" Jessica asked. "How is that possible?" She paled. "Is he coming after me?"

Aaron reached out and patted her hand. "No," he said. "Not exactly. He's trying to get another vampire, one far more dangerous than anything anyone can imagine. Have you ever heard of the legend of Akasha?"

Jessica shook her head. She'd never heard of the name before.

"Akasha is spoken of in one of the very first versions of the Bible. Chapter 17 of Revelations talks of a woman in red who rides upon the dragon sent to destroy the Kingdom of Man. She is summoned by the sound of the angel's horn and she feasts upon the blood of man's destruction. She is known as 'Akasha,' the killer of humanity."

"But that's just a legend, isn't it?" Jessica asked. "I mean isn't Revelations just a metaphor?"

"Yes," Aaron said, "but a metaphor for something which is true. You see the vampires have an Akasha as well. She was, in fact, the start of vampires everywhere. She vanished thousands upon thousands of years ago - so long, in fact, that many vampires today do not believe in her. But she is very real, and her legend is no lie. The vampire that killed your parents is attempting to raise her and if he should succeed it would mean the destruction of mankind everywhere."

Jessica closed her eyes, taking all of this in. It was foolish, utter nonsense, but she could not dismiss it. The memory of that living ash on the table kept her from denying it. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Akasha can be stopped, if we stop this creature from raising her. And you, Jessica, are our best chance of stopping him."

Jessica stopped cold. "Me? Why me?"

Aaron looked at her. "Because you are the only kind of mortal that is allowed near him, these days. Anyone else would be stopped by his bodyguards. But you - a young girl like you could get very close to him indeed."

"Close," Jessica said. "As in…?" she mimed putting a stake through someone's heart.

"Yes," Aaron said, "although that is not the way to kill them."

Jessica nodded, taking a step back. She swallowed, trying to think. So this is what it came to. This is what years of searching and longing had led to. She was finally being given the chance to get at her parents' killer. All she had to do was kill him in turn.

She didn't know if she could believe all of this. She didn't know if she could even pretend to understand the stories Aaron was talking about. But she did know that Aaron was not lying about one thing. He did know the man who had murdered her mother and father. And that, she decided, was all that mattered. If she could get back at that man for destroying her life and her family, then nothing else was important.

"Okay," she said. "What do I have to do?"

"The first thing you need to do," Aaron said, "is research. Here, come with me. There's a place for you to study. It will teach you everything you need to know."

With that, forgetting everything else, forgetting her aunt and uncle and all other responsibilities, Jessica took Aaron's hand and allowed him to lead her away.

He was in a plane.

He knew this and understood it to be true, even though he didn't like it. He didn't like flying. It seemed, to him, to be too uncertain.

Although in some ways he could like it for that very reason. Uncertain, like him. Neither in one place or another. Merely waking up in a new location with every sunset and hoping that he might recognize it from a moment before.

It was interesting.

His friends and protectors were around him now, talking amongst themselves and occasionally looking at him, as though unsure if he would still be there.

He did not suppose he could blame them.

"We'll be landing in a few hours, Lestat," one of them - he didn't even bother trying to remember their names - said. "We can go to the hotel from there."

"I need to hunt."

This, of course, was a challenge. Both to their authority and his importance. It was always interesting to see what would win out in the end.

"Yes, of course," the man said. "Of course. We can have something brought -"

"No." Lestat looked up at him, meeting his eyes with his own dark black ones. He let the full force of his vampire will be known behind his stare. "I will go out and hunt. I will return to the hotel when I am finished."

"Yes…" the man said, letting the word linger uncertainly. He looked to his companions for help but none was forthcoming. "Of course."

"Yes," Lestat repeated, reaffirming it for anyone who might still question. "And I will continue to hunt as required since it does not, as you know, interfere with your plans. Correct?" he finished the question with a smile, letting his razor sharp fangs show.

"Of course not," another one of them said, stepping into the forefront. "Of course it doesn't, Lestat. We can take care of all the preparations for the concert. Just be back in the hotel on time."

"Of course," Lestat said. He looked away, then, dismissing them both with his eyes. It was a fairly useless act, since they could easily come and go from him as they pleased, but he did it nonetheless. It made him feel better to know that he could, to remind them of his own strengths in all of this. They might not be vulnerable to his vampiric ways, but he could still put up a good fight.

In the meanwhile he bided his time, knowing that it was not wise to push things too soon.

There were things he needed to learn first.

Fortunately he knew where to start.

When Aaron Talbert had spoken of a place for Jessica to do her research, she hadn't imagined this place.

She'd been to the British Museum before, of course. Many, many times as a schoolgirl, in fact. But she had never been here after hours.

And she had certainly never been in the Museum's own library with free reign over all of its books.

It had been a favor, Aaron said, that the Museum had extended to the Talamasca after they had killed the vampire hidden in the vases. Ever since that time the resources inside of the Museum were open to the Talamasca at any time and in any occasion.

Even the most delicate and priceless of objects.

Which is why Jessica was there now, surrounded by the stunning catalogue of books that the Museum's library had to offer.

"You must learn all you can about vampires," Aaron had said. "Their strengths, their weaknesses, their tricks. Find out all you can. Only once you have learned all of this can you hope to face the monster we are looking for."

Jessica had merely nodded, humbled by the opportunity before her if nothing else. The sheer enormity of what she was now able to do was enough to earn her agreement. If she could somehow use this to track down her parents' killer, so much the better.

Aaron had cautioned her before leaving, giving her all kinds of rules about watching her back, calling him if she needed to and not staying after sundown, but they had each flown out of her mind as book after book came into her hands and she was finally able to see the information she had been looking for all her life.

She stayed hours after Aaron left, then hours more after the Museum closed, smiling thankfully at the caretakers who winked in her direction as they ushered out the tourists and left her alone. She curled up against one of the bookstacks, a borrowed laptop computer propped against her knees, and let her eyes skim over passage after passage from the library's almost infinite database. She began with one of the first copies of the Guttenberg Bible and then let her research take her from there. The world around her had ceased to be.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was here."

Jessica looked up, startled. She blinked wildly, trying to get her eyes adjusted to the darkness after staring at the computer for so long. "I'm sorry? Who's there?"

"Just… a researcher." came the reply. A figure stepped out of the shadows of a placard advertising the museum's new Sumerian display and into the light where she could see. It was a handsome young man with brown hair and dark eyes. He looked to be about twenty years old. He wore a T-shirt and faded blue jeans. When he spoke, he had an accent that Jessica could not quite place. "Forgive me, am I disturbing you?"

"No," Jessica said. "As long as I'm not disturbing you." She gestured around herself and shrugged apologetically. "Sort of a late night cram session."

He took in the mess of paperwork, wires, disks and notes that was around her. "I can see that." He stepped forward, tilting his head to read what was around her. "What is it that you are studying?"

Jessica pulled back, uncertain if it was wise to reveal this information. "Um… nothing usual. Occult stuff, mostly."

"I see," he said. He knelt down, resting not one foot away from her, and picked up a page of her notes. "Vampires?" he asked, looking at her quizzically.

"Yes," Jessica said. She tried to improvise. "You know, legends and myth. Does anyone really know what vampires truly are?"

A ghost of a smile touched his face. He shook his head, handing the paper back to her. "I don't believe anyone knows the answer to that, Miss -"

"Reaves," she said. "Jessica Reaves."

He smiled more earnestly now, shaking her hand. "I'm Lestat. And I'm actually here on much the same mission you are. I am looking to learn all that I can about the vampire world. Things," he added, his voice almost wistful, "that no one else can teach me."

Jessica perked up. "Really? What sort of things?"

"Anything," he said. He looked around at her notes again. "I find I have no idea where to start."

"Are you a part of Aaron's group, then?" she asked.

"Aaron?"

"You know, the current vampire crisis and all that."

"Yes," Lestat said slowly, feeling the word out. "Yes, I believe I am." He gave a soft, almost bitter laugh. "Moreso than you, I would imagine."

Jessica frowned. "Excuse me?"

Lestat smiled, waving his comment off. "I just mean you are so young, is all. I was surprised to see someone like you in here."

Jessica made a face. "I'm not as young as that," she said. "And I'm old enough to deal with this, believe me."

Lestat raised his eyebrows. "You sound quite determined."

"You could call this a personal project," she said.

"You could say the same for me," he replied. "Well then, Miss Jessica Reaves, shall we work together then? Ease the burden of our mutual goal?"

For the first time since she had woken up, Jessica found herself smiling. "Yes," she said, "I think I'd like that."

Lestat wasn't certain what, exactly, he was doing with the mortal girl. On every level it made absolutely no sense. There was no safety or wisdom in a continued mortal interaction. But even so he did not stop it. He allowed himself the company and the stability that she presented as she was there every evening when he returned to the library in the same slow search for some idea of who or what he was.

He let their conversations remain blissfully imprecise, enjoying the fact that the library's rules about food and drink let them both avoid the question of why he never brought some form of supper with him. Other than that nights were allowed to pass with little more conversation shared between them besides that of vampiric lore. She believed him to be a part of 'Aaron's group' and he saw no reason to deny it.

Hell, for all that he was aware of, perhaps he was.

It was only on their third night together that questions began to be raised.

"Why don't you join me in the afternoons?" Jessica asked of him. It was still early in the evening. Lestat had only just finished hunting and had joined her in the now-empty library. Jessica was wearing yet another of her impossible outfits, this one a collection of blue and pink which exposed her chest and stomach in interesting ways, particularly as she attempted to reach overhead for a specific volume. "We could get more done that way."

"I can't get away from my keepers," Lestat replied with light sarcasm. He was carefully turning the pages of an old, handwritten manuscript, hoping that Jessica would not question why he had no trouble with the ancient Latin inside.

She laughed, thinking he'd made a joke. "Oh?"

"Yes. They hover and chitter around me like a pack of elves, completely unaware of the fact that I am more than capable of doing things myself."

Jessica laughed again. She was finally able to pull the book down and did so, leaving it on the table for him to read through when he was done. She sat back down at her computer. "I know what you mean. Fortunately my aunt and uncle aren't as bad as that. They pretty much leave me to myself as long as I don't cause any trouble they're aware of."

Lestat noted this bit of information. "Your aunt and uncle?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I live with them. My folks are gone." She said this last statement with a note of finality and turned her eyes firmly towards the words in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Lestat said. He paused, wondering how much he should speak. "I do not have any family either."

Jessica looked up. "Oh?"

"Yes," Lestat replied. "They are… lost to me." He tried to smile but knew it came out bitterly. "I don't even remember them, in truth."

"That's horrible," she said. One of her pale, pink hands reached out to touch his own. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, not knowing what to do with this. He wanted to dismiss it, but found her innocent concern touching. "It's no big thing," he said. "I don't remember much of anything, anymore."

That drew a look of alarm in her pretty blue eyes. Lestat realized he'd definitely spoken too much. "I've been ill," he said quickly. He knew it was a pathetic attempt at best but found he had lost the heart for too much subterfuge. There was more than enough of that back at his hotel room.

She squeezed his hand comfortingly. "That's terrible!" she said, keeping her voice to a low whisper even though they were both alone.

"It's really…" Lestat tried to say something, then gave up. He tried another avenue instead. "That's why they are so protective. They worry about… the summer heat getting to me."

Jessica nodded. "I can imagine. Are you cool enough now? Perhaps I could get you something?"

"No," Lestat said, his voice firm more than it was sharp. "No, please, Jessica… I would rather no fuss be made." He turned his hand in hers and held it in a gentle apology. "Please. You've been kinder than I can accept, in all good conscience."

"Alright," she said, although she did not seem convinced. She took her hand out of his and attempted a more nonchalant tone. "Though it does explain why you're white as a sheet. I always thought it was the lights in here -"

"I have to go," Lestat said at once, standing and moving away from the table. Things had definitely gone too far.

"Lestat, no, wait," Jessica said. She got up from the desk and followed him, catching up to him surprisingly easily and putting her hand on his shoulder to stop him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense. Truly."

"I should go, Jessica."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "Please. I didn't know what to say. Stay." She attempted to smile up at him. "This place gets awfully creepy without you."

Oh God, he thought. "Jessica, you don't know what you're saying. It isn't what you think."

"What then?"

"I can't stay."

"Why?"

She had come forward now and was facing him. Her hands rested on either side of his shoulders and she looked up at him with a face that held nothing but purity and concern.

He wondered what life was like for her, outside of these dusty walls. It occurred to him that he had never even bothered to ask why she was here, why this self-imposed imprisonment appealed to her.

"You should be out in sunlight," he said, apropos of nothing. He reached out and touched her yellow blond hair. "Not in here, not like this."

Her blue eyes searched his face, trying to find some meaning in the words. "What…?"

He shook his head, silencing her. He tried to imagine what brought her here, seeing in his mind a form of life for her so like his own, lost and empty and completely without meaning.

He pushed this away at once. It was his own maudlin nature. "With your friends," he said. "You should be out with your friends, not locked up in here like an old man with no life."

"I don't have many friends," she said. "At least, none that really understand me. Not until now." She gestured around her and he knew that she was referring to the books but all the same he did not let her go. "Anyway," she said, trying to take control of the conversation again. "Why are you here? You're hardly an old man."

"Older than you, Jessica," he said. "Much older."

Her soft mouth turned into a grin. "Very funny, Lestat. How much older can you be?"

He put his hand across her mouth to stop the question. "Please," he said. She started to speak again but once more he stopped her. He closed his eyes and told himself firmly to let her go. But somehow his hands did not obey. They stayed on her, drawing comfort from her closeness, from the naiveté that inspired her concern, from the feeling that, in all of his memory, she was the only person he had ever drawn comfort in.

He could hear her heart beating. It was light and fast, running at a speed that was both fear and curiosity. Her thoughts could be his too, if he only opened his mind to read them. But he did not, could not. Did not dare to know what she was thinking right now, what she could possibly think of him holding her there like this, his own heart beating like a wildman's.

"Lestat, what's wrong?" she whispered, moving just enough to get her mouth away from his hand. Caressing her lips against his skin with no thought at all of what sensation it caused.

"Everything," he replied, his own voice just as soft. Leave, he told himself. Leave now.

Without his being aware of it, she moved closer. He felt it only in the sensation of her heartbeat against his chest. His eyes flew open just a moment before the distance between them closed and she stood on tiptoes to cover his mouth with a kiss.

This was wrong. Insane and wrong and without any useful purpose. But, unable to help himself, knowing it to be the final proof of the weak man he truly was, he held on, opening his mind to her just enough to feel her emotions and to understand that she, unlike so many others, meant absolutely no harm.

The next day Jessica woke up feeling full of energy she had no idea what to do with. It gave her the odd sensation of being both alive and weighed down. She lingered as she dressed, trying to remember the events of the night before and failing miserably in any attempt to make sense of it.

There was a light blinking on her cell phone, and she knew it was a message from Aaron. He would be calling to check up on her as he usually did. Normally she wouldn't mind talking with him and letting him know everything was ok, but today she decided not to call him back. She needed the time to herself.

Lestat, she thought. How strange had things with him become? Working with him had seemed so innocuous at first, but now she wasn't sure. Now everything was far more complicated.

She had supposed Aaron knew what he was doing when he sent Lestat to work with her. He was older, after all. A grad student, by her way of guessing, and certainly familiar with the library's old tomes. They had worked together so well that Aaron hadn't even needed to ask about him, being content instead to be told that everyone Jessica had met and worked with so far had been incredibly helpful.

Of course, Jessica likewise did not feel a need to volunteer much information about Lestat, since he was only there after hours when she was supposed to have gone home. She wondered if Lestat knew that and had therefore not mentioned anything to Aaron.

Whatever Aaron thought, Jessica knew he could wait another day before talking about it. Today she needed some time to herself.

To herself, and to Lestat.

Their kiss last night had been unexpected. She hadn't even really known she intended to do it until it happened. He had simply seemed so lost and alone. Something inside of her could not ignore that. In that moment when he held her, trembling in his own fear, she knew she had to comfort him.

It was only after the fact that she expected him to mock her, to push her away for being "too young".

But he hadn't. Instead he had returned it, kissing her back with surprising intensity and holding her tight in powerfully strong arms.

It had made her feel lightheaded.

He'd left not long after, once again stammering excuses and apologies. But even as he did he held on to her, keeping both of her hands in his own and his dark eyes never leaving her face. It had been easy, then, to get a guarantee from him, a promise that he would be back the next night to prove to her that he was ok. He agreed, then vanished, going off to where ever it was that he stayed during the daytime.

Jessica wondered about that as she made her way back into the city. Where did he stay when they weren't together? Where did he live that he had these 'keepers' fussing over him? She supposed that he meant his family, but he had sounded so detached from them that she wasn't sure. She hoped she would find out more from him as the night went on.

He was waiting for her just outside of the Museum, as he had promised. He had dressed more conservatively tonight than usual, choosing to wear a dark shirt, jacket and pants that complimented his own dark tones. He kept his hands folded behind his back somberly.

"You look so serious," she said as she came up to him.

"I wasn't sure what to expect," he replied. He looked away, then back at her. "Jessica, I did not mean -"

"Please don't tell me you're going to try to apologize again," Jessica said. She grinned a little. "Remember, I kissed you. It should be me who makes the apology."

"No," he said. He walked away, raking a hand through his hair. "No, you did not know better. You've no idea what you are getting into."

Jessica couldn't help her sound of frustration. "I know I may not be as old as you are yet, but don't sit there and tell me I don't know what I'm getting into. If Aaron could prep me for everything that's to come I can certainly handle this."

He looked at her, puzzled, but did not question.

Seeing the advantage, she pressed on. "Look, Lestat," she said, taking his hand in hers, "I know this isn't what either one of us expected or was looking for, but surely it can't be as bad as all that? Despite our differences isn't there so much else we have in common? I can't think of anyone I feel more comfortable with, anyone I feel safer with, than you. I don't think anyone understands me as much as you do."

He shook his head, but did not deny it or let go of her hand. He let his fingers thread through hers. "And why is that? Because of this?" he indicated the library wing in the museum.

"Yes," she said. "Everyone I have ever tried to talk to about this has just made fun, or tells me to give up. You and Aaron are the only ones who ever listened. You don't tell me that I am only making it up. You hear me, you believe in me."

A strange smile came across Lestat's face. "I would not doubt you about this, Jessica, believe me."

"So why doubt me about this?" she asked, holding up their clenched hands. "Why is it that I can be so sure about one but not the other. Hell," she said, laughing, "if anything Lestat it should be the other way around. Why aren't you kissing me and telling me vampires aren't real?"

"Because, Jessica," he said sadly, "they are."

She found herself wanting to take the pain in his eyes away, just as she had done last night. "You know," she said, "when I lost my family I couldn't really remember it. Everything about it was a blur. Even now I don't remember all of the details. I guess it must be like that for you too?"

"Yes," Lestat said. He nodded and drew her closer, resting his cheek against her hair. "But not for the reason that you think."

"You don't have to talk about it," she suggested.

"My family is gone, Jessica," he said, With his free hand he reached up to stroke her hair. "And I have no memory of it, as you say. And that frightens me. But what frightens me more is the thought that my memories may come back, and that what you will learn about me will terrify you."

"How can it, Lestat?" she asked, "When you know what you know about me? If you can accept what I am then how could I turn my back on you?"

Lestat pulled back, then, to look into her eyes. He kissed her forehead, shaking his head sadly. "I do not understand you, Jessica Reaves. Nor should I be with you."

Impulsively she put her arms around him, holding him by the waist. "I disagree."

There was a long, long pause before he responded. He drew her to him in kind and kissed her lips softly. "I should send you away," he said. "As far away from me as I can. But I am weak. Too weak to give you up. You are, Jessica, the only friend I have found in this world."

"More than that," she whispered.

"Yes," he said, kissing her again, his lips dancing lightly over hers, exploring them. "But more than that is not right." "Is it what you feel?" she asked, afraid of his answer.

Again came the long pause. Finally he answered. "Yes."

She hugged him tightly, thrilled at the response. "Then forget the rest. Forget all about what's happened. Let's just be in the here and now. Just us. Away from here."

"And do what, Jessica?" he laughed, bemused, but not at her. He played with a lock of her hair, running it through his fingers like silk. "Where could two such as us even go?"

"Anywhere," she replied. She took him by the hand and dragged him away, "but not here."

Lestat gave up on pretending it was right. He knew that it wasn't. It was wrong and no good and would come to nothing but pain.

But, in a way, that was the only thing he could understand.

Perhaps this could end it. Perhaps he could somehow find just enough happiness that the scales of his world could tip over once more and plunge him back into nothingness. He was tired of waiting, tired of trying to find out where he had come from and where he might be going to. No answers were forthcoming. There was nothing in any of the books he had found that told him this. Nothing but myths and mysteries and legends. Nothing that was real.

Not like Jessica.

So young. But he could somehow remember that for him it was not really so. That in his time as a mortal man a girl like her was not so young as to be out of reach. That he might even have married a girl of her age.

And, if it came to it, he could marry a girl of her age. Such a thing was legal here, he had checked.

It was stupid and foolish but unstoppable. She was the only thing in his life that made sense, that he could understand. He knew nothing of Aaron or her project but could understand her pain, her desire to try to find some sort of meaning in it all despite the ridiculousness that surrounded them. She was earnest and desired only to please and was so damned innocent.

He couldn't resist. And though he cursed himself and mocked himself for it, he was unable to deny his desire to be with her, his own stupid, male need to take this beautiful young lady into his arms and drink in the pleasure of the emotions she had when she was near him.

Foolish and probably deadly, but he found he didn't care.

So what if it killed him? At least then would be an end. A final place for him to rest and get away from his own insanity, from this life that wasn't a life.

And in the meanwhile, he would stay with her. At least with her it felt like living.

The night passed by in a blur. Jessica took Lestat to any place she could think of which would somehow distract them. They went to the park, they listened to music, they toured the city by double-decker bus, they did not talk about their work.

By the time Jessica arrived home much later that night - practically the next morning - she was exhausted.

Only when she finally crawled into bed did she remember the light blinking on her cell phone. She hit the button for her voice mail and listened to message after message from Aaron wondering where she had gone and what she had been doing.

Jessica turned the phone off after erasing the last one and settled down for sleep. In her arms she held Lestat's dark jacket, given to her hours earlier when she had become cold. She rest her cheek against it and held it tight.

Aaron could wait a little longer. Right now she was too happy.

"Running off like that with no notice whatsoever is an unacceptable risk!" Aaron paced back and forth in front of her. It was mid-afternoon and she had finally called him and agreed to meet for lunch. They were in a small cottage that she assumed was Aaron's home.

"I was perfectly safe," Jessica protested.

"You were out at night," Aaron said, "you gave no notice of where you were going. Do you realize how easy it would have been for a vampire to track you down?"

"I was with a friend!"

"Hardly the point." The look in Aaron's eyes made it clear that he knew just what kind of "friend" it had been. "We cannot play games right now, Jessica. The time has come for you to act. Have you learned enough from your studies to know what you are up against?"

Jessica nodded. She'd gone through every book Aaron had recommended and knew what weaknesses to look for, as well as what to be aware of. The myths about vampiric strength and psychic powers were true, but fortunately so were the stories about fire and sunlight. Killing one off seemed like no trouble.

"And were you able to understand the legend of Akasha?"

Jessica nodded again. "She is brought back again by music," she said. "The story of the angel playing his horn is actually a vampire singing notes that no mortal can make. If a vampire was able to do that near her resting place while enough mortals were around to feed her immediate hunger, she would rise up and destroy the world."

"Exactly," Aaron said. "This event will happen tomorrow night."

"When? Where?" Jessica asked.

Aaron shook his head. "I cannot tell you too much. If I do he'll read it from your mind. All I can do is prepare you for what is to come. After that, we can only pray."

Jessica felt a small shiver run down her spine. "This is real, then?"

"Yes." Aaron looked at her quizzically. "Do you believe me, Jessica? Do you believe in all of this?"

"No," the answer came easily, but Jessica tried to soften any blow it might cause. "But I believe in my parents' killer. If this vampire is the one who did it then I will kill him. If that falls into your plans, so be it."

"It's the best we can hope for," Aaron said. He reached out a hand for her. She took it and stood beside him. He then led her down a hallway into a back room. "Your task tomorrow night is for that purpose and that purpose only. You must seek out this vampire and kill him. But at no time must he read your thoughts. You'll be equipped with this - " he handed her a tiny plastic device. "It's a transmitter. Virtually invisible once you put it in your ear. We will guide you to his location and tell you where he is only when you are close enough to strike. There will be a crowd, so if you act quickly he will not hear you."

Jessica took the transmitter in her hand and studied it. She couldn't imagine how something so small could be so significant. "How will I attack him?"

"With this," Aaron said. He pulled out a glass jar which was filled with a clear orange liquid. "It is known as Egyptian Lightening. Very volatile. When you are next to him you must throw this on him. Cover him as best you can but be careful to get none on yourself! Once this is on him all that is needed is exposure to light. Any form of light will cause the oil to burst into flames. He will be instantly killed. Then you only need to gather his ashes." At Jessica's frightened look he added "I will have members of the Talamasca standing by just in case. But we will not be able to get as close to him as you will. Only a young girl like you will manage to disappear into the crowd until he arrives."

"Why?" Aaron shook his head. "That I cannot tell you. Come, let's get ready for tomorrow. There is a great deal of rehearsal to do."

They weren't happy, but this he did not really care about.

"Lestat -"

"Save it," he snapped. He fixed them all with cold, brown eyes. "I'll do as I damn well please. Enough with your pathetic plotting."

Uneasy looks were exchanged back and forth. "Lestat, we are only trying -"

"To do what?" He looked from one to the other to the next, making each fall underneath his gaze. "Not care for me, certainly. That much was obvious from the start. What, then? What is so damned important to you all that I must be a part of this?"

Again uneasy looks. Finally one of them chose to be the diplomat. "Look, Lestat, we know that you are not happy -"

"Ha!"

"- but it will all end tomorrow night if you just stay patient. All we ask is that you do the concert. Just make your appearance before the crowd tomorrow, sing your song and it will all be over. After that you need never see us again, promise."

Lestat listened to this monologue of utter horse manure and imagined a noose being tied slowly around his neck, a noose which he knew would snap shut tomorrow night, most likely when he stepped on stage. But, he decided, it didn't matter. If tomorrow was the night of his death then so be it. He could live with it.

"Fine," he said, dismissing them all and disappearing back into his room. If he had to wait for the end then he would wait alone.

But, as he resigned himself to this, he could not help but feel a small stab of guilt about Jessica. The thought of her innocent, beautiful young face flashed before him and, unbidden, he remembered the simple pleasure of her company the night before. Guilt hit him yet again as he thought of her now, probably waiting for him in the library, wondering why he had given no explanation for standing her up.

She didn't deserve this. But then, he didn't deserve her.

He tried to push this aside. After all, this was all for the best.

In hindsight, Jessica felt like a fool.

Foolish, at any rate. The answer had been staring her in the face for quite some time, yet she had been totally oblivious.

The Museum. Akasha was locked in the museum.

Jessica was currently in the main lobby, milling about with hundreds upon thousands of people her age, waiting for the show to start and staring at yet another placard about the museum's new Sumerian display utterly dumbfounded.

Sumeria, of course! The Biblical legend of Akasha had begun there and naturally she had been buried there. If this vampire, this creature who had destroyed her family, was in England now to make her rise of course it was because her body had somehow been transported in with all of the other Sumerian goods.

It was little more than Aaron tried to warn her of when they had first met, telling her about the vampire inside of Nazi vases. She should have seen it coming.

But it was not time for that now.

She was there for a concert, as was everyone else around her. It was a benefit concert being done for the new display and the star attraction was some American rock band being lead by none other than her parents' killer. They were a popular band, but popular only with teenagers, which was why Aaron and his friends had to remain hidden and outside.

Plus they couldn't take the chance that the vampire would read their thoughts. Instead they had to rely on Jessica, who was all alone in the crowd and armed only with her transmitter and a small but powerful water gun filled with the supernaturally lethal Egyptian Lightening. She needed to wait only for Aaron's cue to act. The night before she had practiced drawing and firing her weapon again and again. She knew it would only take a moment to get the bastard.

A moment, then an agonizing wait for him to get into the lights of the stage and have those bright spotlights turn him into a cinder forever.

Aaron had assured her that gathering up his ashes in the ensuing chaos would not be a problem, and most likely would not be hers to worry about, but she was carrying a glass container for them just in case.

In the meanwhile she wandered, doing a form of pseudo-meditation that Aaron had taught her. Her mind needed to be clear, she was told, so that the vampire could not read her thoughts. She needed to focus on nothing except the noises and people around her. She kept her eyes to the floor, mostly, repeating the words of Aaron's lesson in order to maintain the obfuscation of her thoughts.

"Jessica?" a voice said softly in her ear. It was Aaron. "He's in the building. Make your way to the west entrance without being obvious."

Jessica murmured her assent, although she wasn't sure if any of Aaron's spies would hear it. She hadn't been told where his surveillance equipment was, or even what it was for that matter. Her only connection with them was the device in her ear which only worked to send Aaron's words to her, not the other way around.

"Get ready and be careful. When the time comes you'll need to act quickly."

Inside of her coat pocket - the coat that Lestat had given her before - she wrapped her hand around her gun. She focused even harder on disguising her thoughts, turning her world into a multi-colored blur and waiting only for Aaron's command to attack. She was alone now, away from the crowd, standing in an alcove where the rest of the concert goers could not easily see her.

"Ready…. Now!"

She whirled and fired, her eyes finding her target easily in the otherwise empty hallway. The gun worked automatically, spewing out its deadly payload and completely covering the man before her.

The world slowed down, and Jessica imagined she could see the spray of oil before her in a mass of tiny droplets. Everyone around her faded away until she saw no one and heard no sound save the shocked gasp of her victim.

Then the spray ended, and reality rushed in with a wave that made her head throb, and the gun dropped from her hand and she looked into the eyes of the creature.

"You bitch!" Lestat whispered. His dark eyes were on fire as they looked into hers. He was panting in shock. "You utter - I never expected it was you!"

"You?" Jessica cried. She raised her hands helplessly, wanting to strike but remembering the effects of the deadly oil. "What about me? What about -"

"Jessica? We're coming, get out of there!" Aaron's voice spoke up tinnily in her ear.

A hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God, Aaron!"

Lestat looked at her as though she was insane. "What?"

Acting on impulses that even she did not understand she grabbed Lestat's hand and pulled him down the hallway. "Quickly, come with me! Please!"

Lestat paused, but followed. Perhaps because he trusted her, or perhaps because he knew what he was sprayed with and she was leading him far, far away from the lights that would ignite it. She ran away from the lobby, away from the crowd and away from any path that she thought Aaron might have kept an eye on. "If you have any abilities to hide us," she said to him breathlessly, "now would be a good time to use them."

"Fine," Lestat said. And with a sudden swoop he grabbed her in his arms and turned the world into a nauseating blur. Jessica felt her mind flip over then come to a jarring stop. Without knowing how he had done it, she found herself once again in the Library. Without needing to check she knew that he had locked the doors and somehow managed to buy them a little time. The room was dark, its only light coming from the faint beams of the moon through the windows.

"Lestat, I -"

"What?" Lestat asked, interrupting her. He paced like a caged tiger. "What do you think you are going to say to explain this? And why should I even hear it? I'm not even sure why I'm indulging this childish fantasy of yours to explain yourself."

That did it. Jessica grabbed a book off of a nearby display and flung it at him. "Bastard!" She flung another book even though he managed to duck both easily. "You say this to me! You say this to me when I saved your life! When I don't even know why I did it! I should turn the lights on right now and end it all for you!"

"Do!" he shouted, motioning with his hands dramatically. "I don't care! I don't have anything anymore, why should I give a damn about any of this! Go ahead, put an end to my misery! Do whatever it is you think is so damned important! The only thing I ever gave a damn about was you so why should any of this stop you?"

Tears streamed down Jessica's face as she dropped another book to the floor rather than throw it at him. "I didn't know… you didn't tell me!"

He looked at her in exasperation. "How could I? What did you expect me to say? And," he added, his voice softer and less unkind, "I did try to warn you."

Jessica sank down into a chair, wiping at her tears angrily. "This is stupid," she said. She hit the table in front of her with her fist, taking out her frustrations with it. "This is bloody, damned, stupid!"

"Welcome to my life," Lestat said. He sighed and sat down across from her. "Jessica, I wasn't trying to harm you. I wasn't trying to do anything with you. All I wanted was to find out what I was - who I was. I never thought you'd be a part of it."

"I was trying…" Jessica began to explain, but couldn't continue through her tears. She looked away, but Lestat finally used his abilities to read her thoughts.

"Ah God," he whispered. He looked away as well, raking a hand through his hair sharply. "Ah God," he said again. He looked back. "Jessica, it may be true. I don't know. It could be. I could be the man who killed your parents. I don't know. I don't remember."

She looked at him skeptically, not sure if her disbelief was in his confession or in the fact that he, of all people, might have done it.

"It's true," he said softly. "Jessica, I don't know who I am. I was rescued - kidnapped more like - by people, powerful people, who have kept a tight hold on me for months now. They have either erased my past or rendered it so unimportant that I have no way of accessing the memory of it. I do not know who or what I am, only that they control me and wanted me to do this concert."

"To bring about Akasha," she said. She gestured in the direction of the computer terminal that had been her research companion. "An old vampire bent on destroying the earth. They wanted you to sing the music that would make her rise."

Lestat blinked, taken aback. "But… why me? Why not any other vampire? Why am I so important?"

Jessica shrugged. "I don't know," she said. She wiped at the last of her tears again. A small, bitter laugh escaped her. "For that matter, why me?"

A smile touched the corner of Lestat's mouth as he joined her in her irony. "I do not know, Jessica. I suspected - that is I thought that this torture was meant only for me, that it was merely my punishment to live out my life as their easily manipulated toy. I thought all of this would begin and end with me. I never thought, never suspected that this insanity would include someone like you."

She allowed herself to smile, reaching across the table to brush his fingers with her own. "Me neither," she said. "I… I do care for you. I did not lie about that."

Lestat nodded, covering her hand with his. "Nor did I, Jessica, though I did try to stop it. I knew it could only bring you pain. I hoped to die today. I see now that cannot be. Nor," he added, his voice quieter but firm, "do I want it to be. I want to be away from this, Jessica. With you. This is no place for either of us. Please - come with me, away from these people."

"But - the oil!" Jessica said. She gestured to his drenched clothing. "If we get near a light it could kill you! No, let me talk to Aaron, he'll know how to clean it up."

She began to stand but was stopped as Lestat grasped her hand tightly. "He's no friend, Jessica. Not to us. Did he ever fully explain this? Did he ever show what this will really do?"

Jessica sat back down slowly, trying to puzzle out what he meant. "He… told me it would burn you. Set you on fire and turn you into a pile of ashes. He was going to collect them and -"

"And what, Jessica?" Lestat asked. He met her eyes honestly. "He never said what he was going to do with them, did he?"

Jessica shook her head, remembering only the small pile of ash that Aaron had showed her in the café long ago.

"Exactly, Jessica," Lestat said, once again reading her thoughts. "That is the fate he had in store for me. Fire does not kill, us, Jessica, just changes us. You saw that the other day. That was no mere pile of ash, that was a living creature. A living creature torn into a million parts and completely without sanity or support. He kept that as his plaything, Jessica. Can you imagine what he would do to me?"

Jessica tried to imagine Lestat turned into a pile of ashes, trapped inside of a plain glass jar. She shivered and grabbed the container out of her pocket, throwing it to the ground and shattering it into pieces. "I won't let him," she whispered. She held on to both of his hands tightly. "I won't."

Lestat nodded, standing. "Then let's go. Let's get out of here, now, while they still can't find us. Let's leave before their mad plotting catches up to us and drags us back in again."

"But what about you?" she asked. She patted at the oil on his shirt sympathetically, trying somehow to ally herself with the danger she'd put him in.

He hugged her, kissing the top of her head. "It will be alright. It's nighttime and I move quickly. We'll keep to the shadows until we find a safe place and then wash this off. It will be ok, promise."

She looked up at him, marveling at his beauty in the soft moonlight. "Ok? Truly?"

Lestat nodded, hugging her again. "Yes. If we get away now and we stay away before some other crazy idea occurs to them to use us again." He looked down into her eyes, touching her cheek gently. "I don't know why, Jessica, but I do… care for you. I don't want them to hurt you and I promise to protect you."

Jessica leaned into the touch, pressing a kiss against his hand. "And I promise the same for you, Lestat."

Lestat smiled, accepting this. "Then let's get out of here, now."

"Yes," Jessica agreed. She took his hand and followed him out into the night, disappearing with him into the shadows of darkness and vanishing before anyone else's eyes could see where they were, what they were doing, or where they were going.

Lestat did not know if any of this would help, or put an end to it. He did not know if he would ever be able to claim a life for himself outside of these people who controlled him, but he did know that he could get away now, at least, and bring Jessica along with him and somehow, someway, save a young girl who was just as much of a character as he was.

It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do.

THE END
OR SO WE THINK