Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [107]
It struck me in the soul, her words. The soul I wasn’t supposed to have, the entangled soul.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” she said, her voice roughened by emotion, “what womanhood means. The power to mother, the power to seduce, the power to leave behind both, the power to. . . .” She shut her eyes. She whispered: “And that dress, such an outrageous badge of it!”
“Don’t battle with it anymore,” I said. It was the first warmth I’d shown to her. “You said it the first time around, really. You said it.”
She knew it. She looked up at me.
“Power Slut,” she whispered. “That’s what you called me, and right you were, I was drunk on the power, I was spinning, I was—.”
“Oh, no, don’t—.”
“And we can transcend, we are so blessed, even if it is a dark blessing, we are miracles, we are free in so many marvelous respects—.”
“It’s my task,” I said, “to guide you, instruct you, remain with you until you’re able to exist well on your own, and not to lose my temper as I did. I was in the wrong. I played out the power hand same as you did, baby. I should have had much more patience.”
Quiet. And this sorrow too will lift. It must.
“You do love Rowan, though, don’t you?” she asked. “You really really love her.”
“Accept what I’m saying to you,” I said. “I am a very mean guy. And I am being nice.”
“Oh, you’re not mean at all,” she said with a little laugh. She cleared her saddened face with the brightest smile. “I absolutely adore you.”
“No, I am mean,” I said. “And I expect to be adored. Remember your own words. I’m the teacher.”
“But why do you love Rowan?”
“Mona, let’s not delve into that too much,” said Quinn. “I think we’ve accomplished a great reconciliation here, and Lestat won’t leave us now.”
“I was never going to leave,” I said under my breath. “I would never abandon either of you. But now that we’re gathered together, I think we can move on. There are other matters on my mind.”
Quiet.
“Yes, we should move on,” said Mona.
“What other matters?” Quinn asked a little fearfully.
“Last night we talked about a certain quest,” I said. “I made a promise. And I mean to keep it. But I want to clarify certain things . . . about the quest and what we hope to gain from it.”
“Yes,” said Quinn. “I’m not sure I fully understand everything about the Taltos.”
“There’s too much for us to understand,” I said. “I’m sure Mona would agree with that.”
I saw the trouble come back into her bright face, the pucker of her eyebrows, the soft lengthening of her mouth. But even in this I saw a new maturity, a new self-confidence.
“I have some questions. . . .” I said.
“Yes,” said Mona. “I’ll try to answer them.”
I reflected, then plunged: “Are you absolutely certain that you do want to find these creatures?”
“Oh, I have to find Morrigan, you know that! Lestat, how could you, you said you—?”
“Let me phrase it differently,” I said, raising my hand. “Never mind whatever you’ve said in the past. Now that you’ve had time to think—to become more accustomed to what you are, now that you know that Rowan and Michael weren’t lying to you, that you do know everything, and that there’s nothing to know—do you want to search out Morrigan simply to know that she’s safe and sound, or to reveal yourself to her in a true reunion?”
“Yes, that is the essential question,” said Quinn. “Which is it?”
“Well, for a true reunion obviously,” she answered without hesitation. “I never thought of any other possibility.” She was bewildered. “I . . . I never considered just finding out if she was all right. I . . . always thought we’d be together. I want so much to put my arms around her, to hold her, to—.” Her face went blank with hurt. She fell silent.
“You do see,” I asked as tactfully as I could, “if she wanted that, she would have come back to you a long time ago.”
Surely such thoughts had occurred to her before. They must have. But as I watched her now I wondered. Maybe she had dwelt