I bit down into my tongue and let my mouth fill with blood. Then I kissed him full on his mouth and opened his lips and let the blood pass into him. I felt him stiffen, shiver, and I heard an ecstatic moan come from deep inside his chest.

“Drink,” he whispered.

And I did. Holding him tight to me, I drove my teeth into his throat. All the mortal world would see was a man kissing another man, but I tapped into the blood, the rich and flavorful Replimoid blood, and the world dissolved.

The images came in a rush like the song of a full symphony orchestra, images of him in myriad moments of his new existence too numerous for me to absorb, riotous images filled with his laughter and the mingling of voices, music, the roar of engines, explosions, wind and rain, and I saw towers, towers of exquisite beauty and structures of unimaginable complexity and great dense urban landscapes of fantastical scope, and it was not Atalantaya I was seeing, it was cities of this world, now, our time, cities that existed and cities yet unknown but envisioned, and—it was innocent blood.

Innocent blood filling me, innocent blood pumped by his heart into my heart.

It was innocent blood with all its sweetness and freshness and illimitable power.

It was innocent blood and he was not dying as I took it.

Innocent blood.

The others had surrounded us. They were trying to come between us. I thought I’d die in agony when I drew back, but I didn’t. I held him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. The noise of the café and the boulevard assaulted me and I hated it, but I held him fast.

The women tugged at him, trying to pull him back. They’d assumed I was hurting him, but I hadn’t hurt him. Undiminished, he stared at me through a veil of shimmering tears.

“Au revoir, Lestat,” he said with another one of his brilliant irresistible smiles, and he was off, hurrying out of the café with the women, and waving as he climbed into the car. The car moved at a reckless speed, weaving dangerously through the traffic, and finally disappeared.

His blood was still ripping through me.

I was tempted to go up high in the air and follow the car, track it to wherever it might lead, and find out just exactly where they were hiding in plain sight.

Maybe another time I would do that. Maybe another time. Because I knew I would see him soon again and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

I stood still feeling the heat of his blood begin to fade inside me.

Louis came up finally, and took my arm and we began to walk together.

“You heard it all?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “If you’d wanted me gone beyond hearing, of course, I would have gone.”