Blood Canticle - Anne Rice [111]
“In what particular way?”
He thought for a long moment. “You’ve met humans with the telekinetic ability to kill,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “You’re talking about Rowan. You don’t have to be so cagey with me, Stirling. I’ve sought your hospitality. At First Street we sat at a round table together. For me, that’s rather like the human custom of breaking bread. And now this E-mail from Maharet. So what are you driving at?”
“That Rowan’s power, formidable as it is, didn’t work for her with Lasher. That’s why he was able to abuse her and keep her prisoner. The Taltos are simply too strong, too resilient, too elastic.”
“That’s a good point, but surely you don’t think these creatures are a match for me,” I said. “You have no idea of the evil engine that lurks behind this fancy facade of mine. Worry not. But I’ll take the time to find out Mona’s full capabilities. There’s no calculating Mona’s strength. We’ve spent so much time on her state of mind, we haven’t developed those talents. Thank you for coming with this. Now I have to bid you au revoir. Why don’t you stick around? I can smell bacon cooking in the kitchen.”
“Take care,” he said. “I’m devoted to you, all of you. I’ll be anxious on your account until I hear from you.”
I headed back to Aunt Queen’s room.
Big Ramona, black cotton uniform, white apron, came barreling down the hall.
“Didn’t you offer that Englishman a cup of coffee? All you had to do was stick your head in this kitchen, Lestat. You’re underfoot enough around here to do that. Don’t you go, Mr. Oliver! Can’t you smell that coffee perking on the stove? You sit right down. You’re not driving off without some grits and biscuits and scrambled eggs. I got bacon and ham on the stove. And Lestat, don’t you go tracking that mud all around in Aunt Queen’s room. Do you go looking for mud when you go outside? You’re worse than Quinn. You take off those boots now, and Allen’ll polish them again. Got to hand it to you, four o’clock, Patsy’s ghost did not come! And I had a dream not half an hour ago, Patsy’s in Heaven.”
“Eh bien, Madame,” I called out, reverting at once to stockinged feet and standing the boots neatly side by side outside the bedroom door. “Never have my boots received such loving attention. You know, this is really like living somewhere.”
“Yes, indeed,” she hollered over her shoulder, “should have seen that gal, all dressed in pink cowboy leather, singing, ‘Gloria in Excelsis Deo!’ ”
I froze. You saw that!
I went into the bedroom, latched the door tight, surveyed the inviting bed, dove into it and pulled the covers up over my head. No more. No more! Down pillows, yes, Oblivion, will you please get on with it!
There came a nudge against my back, and I rolled over.
Julien on his elbow, white flannel nightshirt. Face-to-face.
“Dormez bien, mon frère.”
“You know what’s going to happen to you if you keep this up?” I asked.
“What,” he replied sardonically.
“You’re going to fall in love with me.”
25
QUINN’S BEDROOM. Conférence extraordinaire.
Mona was hysterical with joy over the message from Maharet. And by my leave at once E-mailed a letter of thanks on Quinn’s computer, which somehow devolved into two pages, with me taking over the keyboard at one juncture to outline my intention of going at once to the island with my children to ascertain what had become of the Taltos. Mona signed off with her “screen name” of Ophelia Immortal, but not before including Quinn’s name as well: Noble Abelard.
No sooner was that sent off by the magic of electronics than we were fast at work ascertaining that Mona had the power to light candles by the force of her mind, ignite also the kindling in the fireplace, and the logs, and that she could levitate to the ceiling with no effort whatsoever.
I wagered she could very likely make journeys of considerable length by air, but we had no time right now to test it. As for telekinetic power to push, she was very strong on this, able to push me back to the wall if I did not resist, and so could Quinn, but again we weren’t able