Stirling was silent.

“You know his name,” said Lestat, “you know where he lives, you know his family. All that was plain to me before I interrupted him in his bumbling attack on you. Now you know that he’s one of us, as the expression goes. You must not only leave him out of your records, you must leave him completely and utterly alone.”

Stirling held Lestat’s gaze for a moment and then he nodded.

“You move against this boy,” said Lestat, “you try to take up your combative posture where he is concerned, and as God is my witness, I’ll wipe you out. I’ll kill all of you. I’ll leave you nothing but your empty libraries and your overflowing vaults. I’ll start in the Motherhouse in Louisiana and then I’ll move to the Motherhouses all over the world. It’s a cinch for me to do it. I’ll pick you off one at a time. Even if the ancients do rise to protect you, it won’t happen immediately, and what I can do immediately is an enormous amount of harm.”

I went from fear to astonishment.

“I understand you,” said Stirling. “Of course you want him protected. Thank heaven for that.”

“I pray that you do understand me,” said Lestat. He glanced at me again. “This is a young one, an innocent one, and I’ll make the decision as to whether he survives or not.”

I think Stirling let out a little gasp.

As for me there came a flood of relief again, and then another wave of intelligent fear.

Lestat gestured to Stirling.

“Need I add that you’re to get out of here now and never trespass on my property again?” he asked.

Stirling rose at once, and so did I. Stirling looked at me, and there came over me again the total realization that I’d almost ended his life tonight, and a recurrence of terrible shame.

“Good-bye, my friend,” I said in as strong a voice as I could muster. I reached awkwardly for his hand and held it firmly. He looked at me and his face softened.

“Quinn,” he said, “my brave Quinn.”

He turned.

“Farewell, Lestat de Lioncourt,” he said. “I think I understate my case when I say I’m deeply in your debt.”

“You do but I find ingrates all around me eternally,” said Lestat, smiling slyly. “Go on, Mr. Oliver. It’s a good thing you have one of your prowling limousines waiting for you only a couple of blocks from here. I don’t think you’re up to walking far or driving a car by yourself.”

“Right you are,” said Stirling, and then with no further words he hurried down the hallway and out the back door, and I heard his heavy rapid steps on the iron stairs.

Lestat had also risen, and he came towards me and gestured for me to sit down again. He took my head in both his hands. There was no dreadful pressure; there was no pain. It was gentle, the manner in which he was holding me.