Interview with the Vampire

Chapter 25

"'Do it now!' I put my arm around her, moved her close to me, warmed by her softened voice.'Are you mad, to say such things to me? Do I want to do it now!"
"'I want you to do it,' she said.'Bend down now as you did then, draw the blood out of me drop by drop, all you have the strength for; push my heart to the brink. I am small, you can take me. I won't resist you, I am something frail you can crush like a flower.'
"'You mean these things? You mean what you say to me?' I asked.'Why don't you place the knife here, why don't you turn it?'
"'Would you die with me?' she asked, with a sly, mocking smile.'Would you in fact die with me?' she pressed.'Don't you understand what is happening to me? That he's killing me, that master vampire who has you in thrall, that he won't share your love with me, not a drop of it? I see his power in your eyes. I sea your misery, your distress, the love for him you can't hide. Turn around, I'll make you look at me with those eyes that want him, I'll make you listen'
"'Don't anymore, don't... I won't leave you. I've sworn to you, don't you see? I cannot give you that woman'
"'But I'm fighting for my life! Give her to me so she can care for me, complete the guise I must have to live! And be can have you then! I am fighting for my life!'
"I all but shoved her off.'No, no, it's madness, it's witchery,' I said, trying to defy her.'It's you who will not share me with him, it's you who want every drop of that love. H not from me, from her. He overpowers you, he disregards you, and it's you who wish him dead the way that you killed Lestat. Well, you won't make me a party to this death, I tell you, not this death! I will not make her one of us, I will not damn the legions of mortals who'll die at her hands if I dot Your power over me is broken. I will not!'
"Oh, if she could only have understood!
"Not for a moment could I truly believe her words against Armand, that out of that detachment which was beyond revenge he could selfishly wish for her death. But that was nothing to me now; something far more terrible than I could grasp was happening, something I was only beginning to understand, against which my anger was nothing but a mockery, a hollow attempt to oppose her tenacious will. She hated me, she loathed me, as she herself had confessed, and my heart shriveled inside me, as if, in depriving me of that love which 'had sustained me a lifetime, she had dealt me a mortal blow. The knife was there. I was dying for her, dying for that love as I was that very first night when Lestat gave her to me, turned her eyes to me, and told her my name; that love which had warmed me in my self-hatred, allowed me to exist. Oh, how Lestat had understood it, and now at last his plan was undone.
"But it went beyond that, in some region from which I was shrinking as I strode back and forth, back and forth, my hands opening and closing at my sides, feeling not only that hatred in her liquid eyes: It was her pain. She had shown me her pain! To give me immortality in this hopeless guise, this helpless form. I put my hands to my ears, as if she spoke the words yet, and the tears flowed. For all these years I had depended utterly upon her cruelty, her absolute lack of pain! And pain was what she showed to me, undeniable pain. Oh, how Lestat would have laughed at us. That was why she had put the knife to him, because he would have laughed. To destroy me utterly she need only show me that pain. The child I made a vampire suffered. Tier agony was as my own.
"There was a coffin in that other room, a bed for Madeleine, to which Claudia retreated to leave me alone with what I could not abide. I welcomed the silence. And sometime during the few hours that remained of the night I found myself at the open window, feeling the slow mist of the rain. It glistened on the fronds of the ferns, on sweet white flowers that listed, bowed, and finally broke from their stems. A carpet of flowers littering the little balcony, the petals pounded softly by the rain. I felt weak now, and utterly alone. What had passed between us tonight could never be undone, and what had been done to Claudia by me could never be undone.
"But I was somehow, to my own bewilderment, empty of all regret. Perhaps it was the night, the starless sky, the gas lamps frozen in the mist that gave some strange comfort for which I never asked and didn't know how, in this emptiness and aloneness, to receive. I am alone, I was thinking. I am alone. It seemed dust, perfectly, and so to have a pleasing, inevitable form. And I pictured myself then forever alone, as if on gaining that vampire strength the night of my death I had left Lestat and never looked back for him, as
I had moved on away from him, beyond the need of him and anyone else. As if the might had said to me,'You are the night and the night alone understands you and enfolds you in its arms.' One with the shadows. Without nightmare. An inexplicable peace.
"Yet I could feel. the end of this peace as surely as td felt my brief surrender to it, and it was breaking like the dark clouds. The urgent pain of Claudia's loss pressed in on me, behind me, like a shape gathered from the corners of this cluttered and oddly alien room. But outside, even as the night seemed to dissolve in a fierce driving wind, I could feel something calling to me, something inanimate which I'd never known. And a power within me seemed to answer that power, not with resistance but with an inscrutable, chilling strength.
"I moved silently through the rooms, gently dividing the doors until I saw, in the dim light cast by the flickering gas flames behind me, that sleeping woman lying in my shadow on the couch, the doll limp against her breast. Sometime before I knelt at her side I saw her eyes open, and I could feel beyond her in the collected dark those other eyes watching me, that breathless tiny vampire face waiting.
"'Will you care for her, Madeleine?' I saw her hands clutch at the doll, turning its face against her breast. And my own hand went out for it, though I did not know why, even as .she was answering me.
"'Yes!' She repeated it again desperately.
"'Is this what you believe her to be, a doll?' I asked her, my hand closing on the doll's head, only to feel her snatch it away from me, see her teeth clenched as she glared at me.
"'A child who can't die! That's what she is,' she said, as if she were pronouncing a curse.
"'Aaaaah... ' I whispered.
"'I've done with dolls,' she said, shoving it away from her into the cushions of the couch. She was fumbling with something on her breast, something she wanted me to see and not to see, her fingers catching hold of it and closing over it. I mew what it was, had noticed it before. A locket fixed with a gold pin. I wish I could describe the passion that infected her round features, how her soft baby mouth was distorted.
"'And the child who did die?' I guessed, watching her. I was picturing a doll shop, dolls with the same face. She shook her head, her hand pulling hard on the locket so the pin ripped the taffeta. It was fear I saw in her now, a consuming panic: And her hand bled as she opened it from the broken pin. I took the locket from her fingers.'My daughter,' she whispered, her lip trembling.
"It was a doll's face on the small fragment of porcelain, Claudia's face, a baby face, a saccharine, sweet mockery of innocence an artist had painted there, a child with raven hair like the doll. And the mother, terrified, was staring at the darkness an front of her.
"'Grief... ' I said gently.
"'I've done with grief,' she said, her eyes narrowing as .she looked up at me.'If you knew how I long to have your power; I'm ready for it, I hunger for it.' And she turned to me, breathing deeply, so that her breast seemed to swell under her dress.
"A violent frustration rent her face then. She turned away from me, shaking her head, her curls.'If you were a mortal man; man and monster!' she said angrily.'If I could only show you my power... : and she smiled malignantly, defiantly at me'.... I could make you want me, desire me! But you're unnatural!' Her mouth went down at the corners.'What can I give you! What can I do to make you give me what you have!' Her hand hovered over her breasts, seeming to caress them like a man's hand.
"It was strange, that moment; strange because I could never have predicted the feeling her words incited in me, the way that I saw her now with that small enticing waist, saw the round, plump curve of her breasts and those delicate, pouting lips. She never dreamed what the mortal man in me was, how tormented I was by the blood I'd only just drunk. Desire her I did, more than she knew; because she didn't understand the nature of the kill. And with a man's pride I wanted to prove that to her, to humiliate her for what she had said to me, for the cheap vanity of her provocation and the eyes that looked away from me now in disgust. But this was madness. These were not the reasons to grant eternal life.
"And cruelly, surely, I said to her,'Did you love this child?'
"I will never forget her face then, the violence in her, the absolute hatred.'Yes.' She all but hissed the words at me.'How dare you!' She reached for the locket even as I clutched it. It was guilt that was consuming her, not love. It was guilt-that shop of dolls Claudia had described to me, shelves and shelves of the effigy of that dead child. But guilt that absolutely understood the finality of death. There was something as hard in her as the evil in myself, something as powerful. She had her hand out towards me. She touched my waistcoat and opened her fingers there, pressing them against my chest. And I was on my knees, drawing close to her, her hair brushing my face.
"'Hold fast to me when I take you,' I said to her, seeing her eyes grow wide, her mouth open.'And when the swoon is strongest, listen all the harder for the beating of my heart. Hold and say over and over, "I will live."'
"'Yes, yes,' she was nodding, her heart pounding with her excitement.
"Her hands burned on my neck, fingers forcing their way into my collar.'Look beyond me at that distant light; don't take your eyes off of it, not for a second, and say over and over, "I will live."'
"She gasped as I broke the flesh, the warm current coming into me, her breasts crushed against me, her body arching up, helpless, from the couch. And I could see her eyes, even as I shut my own, see that taunting, provocative mouth. I was drawing on her, hard, lifting her, and I could feel her weakening, her hands dropping limp at her sides.'Tight, tight,' I whispered over the hot stream of. her blood, her heart thundering in my ears, her blood swelling my satiated veins.'The lamp,' I whispered, 'look at it!' Her heart was slowing, stopping, and her head dropped back from me on the velvet, her eyes dull to the point of death. It seemed dying for her, dying for that love as I was that very first night when Lestat gave her to me, turned her eyes to me, and told her my name; that love which had warmed me in my self-hatred, allowed me to exist. Oh, how Lestat had understood it, and now at last his plan was undone.
"But it went beyond that, in some region from which I was shrinking as I strode back and forth, back and forth, my hands opening and closing at my silos, feeling not only that hatred in her liquid eyes: It was her pain. She had shown me her pain! To give me immortality in this hopeless guise, this helpless form. I put my hands to my ears, as if she spoke the words yet, and the tears flowed. For all these years I had depended utterly upon her cruelty, her absolute lack of pain! And pain was what she showed to me, undeniable pain. Oh, how Lestat would have laughed at us. That was why she had put the knife to him, because he would have laughed. To destroy me utterly she need only show me that pain. The child I made a vampire suffered. Her agony was as my own.
"There was a coffin in that other room, a bed for Madeleine, to which Claudia retreated to leave me alone with what I could not abide. I welcomed the silence. And sometime during the few hours that remained of the night I found myself at the open window, feeling the slow mist of the rain. It glistened on the fronds of the ferns, on sweet white flowers that listed, bowed, and finally broke from their stems. A carpet of flowers littering the little balcony, the petals pounded softly by the rain. I felt weak now, and utterly alone. What had passed between us tonight could never he undone, and what had been done to Claudia by me could never be undone.
"But I was somehow, to my own bewilderment, empty of all regret. Perhaps it was the night, the starless sky, the gas lamps frozen in the mist that gave some strange comfort for which I never asked and didn't know how, in this emptiness and aloneness, to receive. I am alone, I was thinking. I am alone. It seemed dust, perfectly, and so to have a pleasing, inevitable form. And I pictured myself then forever alone, as if on gaining that vampire strength the night of my death I had left Lestat and never looked back for him, as if I had moved on away from him, beyond the need of him and anyone else. As if the night had said to me,'You are the night and the night alone understands you and enfolds you in its arms.' One with the shadow. Without nightmare. An inexplicable peace.
"Yet I could feel. the end of this peace as surely as I'd felt my brief surrender to it, and it was breaking like the dark clouds. The urgent pain of Claudia's loss pressed in on me, behind me, like a shape gathered from the corners of this cluttered and oddly alien room. But outside, even as the night seemed to dissolve in a fierce driving wind, I could feel something calling to me, something inanimate which rd never known. And a power within me seemed to answer that power, not with resistance but with an inscrutable, chilling strength.
"I moved silently through the rooms, gently dividing the doors until I saw, in the dim light cast by the flickering gas flames behind me, that sleeping woman lying in my shadow on the couch, the doll lung against her breast. Sometime before I knelt at her side I saw her eyes open, and I could feel beyond her in the collected dark those other eyes watching me, that breathless tiny vampire face waiting.
"'Will you care for her, Madeleine?' I saw her hands clutch at the doll, turning its face against her breast. And my own hand went out for it, though I did not know why, even as she was answering me.
"'Yes!' She repeated it again desperately.
"`Is this what you believe her to be, a doll?' I asked her, my hand closing on the doll's head, only to feel her snatch it away from me, see her teeth clenched as she glared at me.
"'A child who can't die! That's what she is,' she said, as if she were pronouncing a curse.
"'Aaaaah... ' I whispered.
"'I've done with dolls,' she said, shoving it away from her into the cushions of the couch. She was fumbling with something on her breast, something she wanted me to see and not to see, her fingers catching hold of it and closing over it. I knew what it was, had noticed it before. A locket fixed with a gold pin. I wish I could describe the passion that infected her round features, how her soft baby mouth was distorted.
"'And the .child who did die?' I guessed, watching her. I was picturing a doll shop, dolls with the same face. She shook her head, her hand pulling hard on the locket so the pin ripped the taffeta. It was fear I saw in her now, a consuming panic: And her hand bled as she opened it from the broken pin. I took the locket from her fingers.'My daughter,' she whispered, her lip trembling.
"It was a doll's face on the small fragment of porcelain, Claudia's face, a baby face, a saccharine, sweet mockery of innocence an artist had painted there, a child with raven hair like the doll. And the mother, terrified, was staring at the darkness in front of her.
"'Grief... ' I said gently.
"'I've done with grief,' she said, her eyes narrowing as -she looked up at me.'If you knew how I long to have your power; I'm ready for it, I hunger for it' And she turned to me, breathing deeply, so that her breast seemed to swell under her dress.
"A violent frustration sent her face then. She turned away from me, shaking her head, her curls.'If you were a mortal man; man tend monster!' she said angrily.'If I could only show you my power... : and she smiled malignantly, defiantly at me'.... I could make you want me, desire me! But you're unnatural!' Her mouth went down at the corners.'what can I give you! What can I do to make you give me what you have!' Her hand hovered over her breasts, seeming to caress them like a man's hand.
"It was strange, that moment; strange because I could never have predicted the feeling her words incited in me, the way that I saw her now with that small enticing waist, saw the round, plump curve of her breasts and those delicate, pouting lips. She never dreamed what the mortal man in me was, how tormented I was by the blood I'd only just drunk. Desire her I did, more than she knew; because she didn't understand the nature of the kill. And with a man's pride I wanted to prove that to her, to humiliate her for what she had said to me, for the cheap vanity of her provocation and the eyes that looked away from me now in disgust. But this was madness. These were not the reasons to grant eternal life.
"And cruelly, surely, I said to leer,'Did you love this child?'
"I will never forget her face then, the violence in her, the absolute hatred.'Yes.' She all but hissed the words at me.'How dare you!' She reached for the locket even as I clutched it. It was guilt that was consuming her, not love. It was guilt-that shop of dolls Claudia had described to me, shelves and shelves of the effigy of that dead child. But guilt that absolutely understood the finality of death. There was something as hard in her as the evil in myself, something as powerful. She had her hand out towards me. She touched my waistcoat and opened her fingers there, pressing them against my chest. And I was on my knees, drawing close to her, her hair brushing my face.
"'Hold fast to me when I take you,' I said to her, seeing her eyes grow wide, her mouth open.'And when the swoon is strongest, listen all the harder for the beating of my heart. Hold and say over and over, "I will live."'
"'Yes, yes,' she was nodding, her heart pounding with her excitement.