Rose shrieked slightly when she heard Eva's voice in her mind but then settled when she recognized the subtle feminine words. She glanced over her shoulder at the vampire, trying her hardest to remain in Armand's presence but wanting so much to see what Rose was up to.
No...not yet. I may not get this chance again for centuries. And I care not if Armand sees me. He wouldn't even bother with a ghost...
Rose didn't bother to wait for Eva's reaction. Her eyes darted around wildly, searching...and then she found what she was looking for. A tall and dark vampire in the corner was cheering on the insulting words of Laurent, cheering with one fist
I'm so sorry. Rose began. I had a memory shock in the churchyard. Red velvet...it was the Keeper's signature...the last I saw before I died was the swishing of that cloak. That alone made me wary. But to make it worse, the one wearing it was the descendant of the man I used to love!!! For so long I've wanted him to become a vampire and grow as I once did, as you are now, and so my life should be fulfilled. But I'm still here!!! Waiting to join the Other Side but something keeps me here...
I'm so sorry, Eva.
* * *
Eva gaped. "That...?" She cleared her throat, and said silently, That was a de Lionc
So many questions, Eva. I'm not sure in a lifetime I could answer them all, even were I to explain them in short detail. Why Marius guards them remains somewhat of a mystery, though I believe that their power dates far back beyond all recorded time and that their disgust with mankind has led them into a deep sleep where they can go years without the feed.
As for Mael, Pandora, and all the ancients,yes. Eva, I have seen them. But only after I saw the moonlit night of immortal death. As a vampire, I was bound to this coven, to this cemetery, this city. With my death brought a freedom I had not known for two hundred years. In the last century,
And with that, Eva disappeared into the night for the kill. It both annoyed and intrigued Rose the way Eva's words were always the last, ensuring that her statement always preceded a dramatic exit. Really was a very effective way of getting someone's attention.
While she waited for Eva's return, she crept toward her tombstone and sat atop it, breathing in the night air like she honestly needed it. It stirred a thought that she didn't quite understand: that ghosts sought the air of the dead. It made sense, didn't it? If humans strived for the fulfillment of sensual desires and vampires strived for the rushing fluid in human veins, didn't it m
Rose awoke the following night and expanded her arms in a ghostly yawn. Her fingers left the coffin and went through the Earth on either side, perfectly hidden in the dirt and muck. When she pulled her hands back, they were just as clear as they had been before.
She laid there for a while, just staring at the top of her coffin and drowning in her bottomless pool of thoughts. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Eva, Tyrell, and even the young Lestat. Beautifully mesmerizing Lestat, the young wolfkiller so like his ancestor and yet so different. He would've made a gorgeous vampire, Rose thought. The last time she'd seen him he was hiding in an in
Dear Angel? What sort of greeting was that? What had Armand been teaching his young pupils? Not the same as he was when Rosalyn was a Child of Darkness, that was for sure. Being a Child of Darkness, she remembered it so well, and in such intensity she craved to once again be known as one. But an Angel of Darkness now that was a captivating title.
"I wish you no ill will. I shall bear you no harm, for I am just as damned as you are." Rosalyn calmly began to explain. "And to answer your question, yes dear child, there is a life worse than the Hell you find yourself in. I should know. After all, I am the one living in such a plac
Evangelina de Rozetti peered out from the dark corner she was hiding in. The man continued to move towards the alley, his gait that of a staggering drunk. A bottle of wine was clutched in his left hand loosely, and unintelligible words were spouting from his wet, pink lips. His dirty brown hair hung long and lank from his small head, and his black eyes were bloodshot with a yellow tint.
My next kill, she thought to herself as he came closer.
She brushed dust off of her worn black dress, now torn in placed from the amount of time she'd been wearing it. Almost one hundred years in this stupid dress. But no, she couldn't change it, because tha
Out on the balcony, amid the fragrant morning glories and azaleas, he leaned on the railing, letting the warm breeze caress his skin. It was nights such as these that reminded him of those Venetian nights so long ago; the distant sound of melodic voices rising from the gondolas, the lighthearted chatter of the inhabitants of his mansion, the polished marble glowing benevolently under the flickering torches which clung to the walls. Scent of food and wine and perfumed oil. Silk sheets like feathers to the touch.
Eyes of amber. Auburn curls framing porcelain skin. Rosy lips, so soft...