Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [228]
“This is your vengeance, isn’t it?” I asked quietly. “You were my child and within two hundred years I left you. And so you tell me now that you won’t do the same to him—.”
“No, my beautiful Marius, it isn’t vengeance, it is only the truth. Now, leave me.” She smiled bitterly. “Oh, what a gift to me this night has been, that I have seen you alive, that I know the Roman blood drinker Santino was wrong. This night will carry me through centuries.”
“It will carry you away from me,” I said, nodding.
But then her lips caught me by surprise. It was she who kissed me ardently, and then I felt her tiny sharp teeth pierce my throat.
I stood rigid, eyes closed, letting her drink, feeling the inevitable pull on my heart, my head suddenly full of visions of the dark forest through which she and her companion so often rode and I couldn’t know whether these were her visions or mine.
On and on she drank, as though she was starving, and deliberately I created for her the luscious garden of my most cherished dreams, and in it I envisioned the two of us together. My body was nothing but desire for her. Through every sinew I felt the pull of her drinking and I gave no resistance. I was her victim. I held to no caution.
It seemed I was not standing any longer. I must have fallen. I didn’t care. Then I felt her hands on my arms, and I knew I was on my feet.
She drew back, and with blurred eyes I saw her gazing at me. All of her hair had spilled down on her shoulders.
“Such strong blood,” she whispered. “My Child of the Millennia.”
It was the first time I had heard such a name for those of us who have lived so long and I was faintly charmed by it.
I was groggy, so strong had she been, but what did it matter? I would have given her anything. I steadied myself. I tried to clear my vision.
She was far away across the room.
“What did you see in the blood?” I whispered.
“Your pure love,” she answered.
“Was there any doubt?” I asked. I was growing stronger by the moment. Her face was radiant with the blood flush and her eyes were fierce as they had always been when we quarreled.
“No, no doubt,” she said. “But you must leave me now.”
I said nothing.
“Go on, Marius. If you don’t, I can’t bear it.”
I stared at her as if I were staring at a wild thing of the wood, and so she seemed to be, this creature whom I had loved with all my heart.
And once again, I knew it to be finished.
I left the room.
In the grand hallway of the house, I stood stunned, and there Arjun was standing in the corner, staring at me.
“I am so sorry, Marius,” he said, as if he meant it.
I looked at him, wondering if anything could work me into a rage to destroy him. Were I to do that, she would have to stay with me. And oh, how the thought of it blazed in my mind. Yet I knew she would utterly and completely hate me for it. And I would hate myself. For what did I have against this creature who wasn’t her vile master as I’d always supposed, but her child!—a fledgling vampire of some five hundred years or less, young in the Blood and full of love for her.
I was far far from such a possibility. And what a sublime being he was as he surely read these thoughts in my desperate and unveiled mind and yet stood his ground with such poise, merely looking at me.
“Why must we part!” I whispered.
He shrugged. He gestured eloquently with his hands.
“I don’t know,” he said, “except she wants it so. It is she who wants ever to be on the move; it is she who draws designs upon the map. It is she who draws the circles in which we travel, now and then making Dresden the center of our roamings, now and then choosing some other city, such as Paris or Rome. It is she who says we must go on and on. It is she. And what can I say, Marius, except that it delights me.”
I went towards him and for one moment he thought I meant to harm him and he stiffened.
I took his