Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [34]
I went to the window, which looked out on the flagstone terrace behind the house and the distant two-story building that ran some two hundred feet across. A porch ran along the upper story of the building, with broadly positioned colonettes supporting it from the ground floor.
“Out there’s the shed, as we call it,” I explained, “and we call our beloved farmhands the Shed Men. They’re the handymen and the errand men, the drivers, and the security men, and they hang out back there in their own den.
“There’s Aunt Queen’s big car, and my car—which I don’t use anymore. I can hear the Shed Men now. I’m sure you can. There’re always two on the property. They’ll do anything in this world for Aunt Queen. They’ll do anything in this world for me.”
I continued:
“Upstairs, you see the doors, those are small bedrooms, small compared to these, I mean, though just as well furnished with the four-poster beds and antique chests and Aunt Queen’s adored satin chairs. Guests used to stay out there too in the old days, for less of course than they paid to stay in the big house.
“And that’s where my mother, Patsy, used to stay when I was growing up. Patsy lived out there ever since I could remember. Down below is where she first practiced her music, over to the left side, that was her garage—Patsy’s studio—but she doesn’t practice anymore and she’s in the front bedroom now just down the hall. She’s rather sick these days.”
“You don’t love her, do you?” Lestat asked.
“I’m very afraid of killing her,” I said.
“Come again?” he asked.
“I’m very afraid of killing her,” I said. “I despise her, and I want to kill her. I dream about it. I wish I didn’t. It’s just a bad thought that’s come into my head.”
“Then come, Little Brother, take me to where you want to talk,” he said, and I felt the soft squeeze of his fingers on my arm.
“Why are you so kind to me?” I asked him.
“You’re used to people being paid to do it, aren’t you?” he asked. “You’ve never been too sure about Nash, have you? Whether he would love you half so much if he weren’t paid?” His eyes swept the room as though the room were talking to him about Nash.
“A big salary and benefits can confuse a person,” I said. “It doesn’t always bring out the best, I don’t think. But in Nash’s case? I think it did. It’s taken him four years to write his dissertation, but it’s a fine one, and after he passes his examinations he’ll be satisfied.” My voice was quavering. I hated it. “He’ll feel that he’s independent of us, and that will be good. He’ll come back and be Aunt Queen’s companion and escort. He’ll read to her again. You know she can’t really read now. She’ll adore it. I can’t wait for it to happen for her sake. He’ll take her anywhere she wants to go. It’s all for her sake. He’s a handsome man.”
“You’re facing mighty temptations,” Lestat said, his eyes narrowing as he appraised me.
“Mighty temptations?” I asked. I was shocked and even a little revolted. “You don’t think I’d feed off those I love, do you? I mean, I know I made this colossal mistake with Stirling, it was god-awful what I did; Stirling came within a hairsbreadth, but I was caught off guard and I was frightened, frightened that Stirling knew what I was, and knew me, you understand, and that Stirling understood—.” Off guard. Bloody wedding dress, bloody bride. You fool, you’re not supposed to kill them when they’re innocent, and on this her wedding night. She’s the only bride you’ll ever have.
“That wasn’t my meaning,” Lestat replied. He brought me back to myself, out of my anguish.
“Come. To your room now, correct, Little Brother? Where we can talk. And you have a