#my iwtv amc fanfics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uozlulu · 2 years

Text

Fic. IwtV AMC. Dream a Memory of Me. PG-13. Armand/Daniel

Character(s)/Relationship(s) Armand, Daniel, Lestat, Louis; Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis, Armand/Louis/Daniel, Daniel/his unnamed second wife, Louis/Daniel, Louis/Lestat (some pairings are background pairings (past, mentioned, canonically present, etc…)). The main pairing and focus of the fic is Armand/Daniel. Genre Drama/Horror/Romance/Supernatural/Vampire Rating PG-13 Word Count 9,197 Disclaimer As this is fanfiction, I do not hold copyright to the source material(s) nor do I claim that I do. This is for free entertainment purposes only. Summary When Armand made Daniel forget their relationship decades ago, Daniel’s mind created a first wife to make sense of the memory loss. Now in Dubai, Daniel finds what he remembered from that time in his life distorting until he can no longer remember Alice but can only remember Armand during his years full of addiction. As the interview continues, Daniel tries to make sense of it all. Warning(s) spoilers up through season 1 episode 7, spoilers from the book Interview with the Vampire that will appear in season 2, inspiration drawn from spoilers for The Queen of the Damned, possibly other Vampire Chronicles spoilers, set during the COVID-19 pandemic, consensual blood drinking, addiction, food consumption, blood-fueled eating disorder, talking about death, discussion of murder, violence, fire, medication, language, chronic illness, toxic relationships, mention of potential suicidal behavior but nobody is actively suicidal, self-mutilation for blood drinking purposes Notes Saw a post on Tumblr that hypothesized that there was no Alice and that Daniel had a relationship with Armand instead, his mind compensating for his memory loss of that relationship by filling in the gaps with a fictional first wife. So, this fic is kind of an exploration of Daniel regaining some semblance of his actual memories as dreams. I tried to be clear with my transitions from memory to the present day. The ~ marks changes between groupings of memories and present day scenes.

This fic is my own odyssey of recollection since I read IwtV about twenty years ago, have since read synopsis for all the other books, listened to my friends obsess over the series since middle school, and absorbed a lot of information by being fandom adjacent for the last over twenty years online and fandom present for the TV show. So that, along with my Swiss cheesy memory, all kind of mixed together in my brain and out came this fic. Since IwtV AMC is an AU already, I figured it’s free real estate and went for it (also my brain wouldn’t shut up about the plot bunny).

AO3 link

Dream a Memory of Me

Snow flurries spit in the air. Slush froze at their feet. Cold fingers slid along Daniel’s face, following contours that no longer existed. A shadowed figure lit from above surrounded and surrounded by Christmas lights from behind spoke in a quiet, resonate voice, “When you are dying, I will return.”

Daniel’s eyes opened. He lay in bed in his room in Dubai, the dream already slipping from his mind. His phone said it was well past two in the morning in New York, which made it almost noon in Dubai. This was the second time he woke since falling asleep shortly after dawn local time. He would probably sleep and wake a few more times before giving up on sleep entirely near sunset.

His mind wanted to cling to its dream, whatever it was. Alice? No. Yes. The shadowy figure was as tall as Alice was and ran their fingers along the side of his face like she did, careful of the sharp fingernails. Their hair was wavy. Their voice…

Daniel could not remember what Alice sounded like. He remembered the lights strung above them at the café in Paris where they had that dessert the vampires gave him early into the present interview. He attended university dance recitals at Alice’s side as they watched the student she patronized outdo his classmates. There were kitchen gadgets on almost every spare space of countertop. There were the movie cameras with their reels, art, theater, blood….

Daniel’s eyes closed. Exhaustion claimed him just as his brain questioned why there would be blood, pungent, fresh, and plentiful.

As always, Daniel woke a few more times before resigning himself to “morning” near sunset and setting about his day. Once clean and clothed, he found his medicine waiting for him on a saucer beside a glass of water on a tray. He reluctantly took it. After that would come breakfast while sitting across from a vampire who could not pick a healthy partner to save his death. Daniel wondered what animal he would watch Louis devour tonight.

Daniel gathered his things for the interview and placed them in his laptop bag. The color of his room changed and drew his attention to the sunset. Intense orange and pale yellow spread across the sky and sparkled off the buildings and the Persian Gulf.

For a moment, his mind recalled a similar sky spread out across Greenwich Village decades ago. He grasped Alice’s cold hands and drew their hands close to him until her fingers almost warmed. Her hair tickled his face and she pressed her lips to his skin where his jaw met his neck. Much like his dream, she was in shadow and had only eyes for a face.

Daniel blinked and his mind returned to the bedroom in Dubai. The color began to fade from the sky.

“You are my mortal lover,” a phantom voice seemingly whispered in his ear.

Daniel looked around but there was no sign of anyone else. It did not sound like it did when Armand or Louis communicated with him in his mind either. He sighed silently, shouldered his laptop bag, and left the bedroom to start the next session.

The apartment was dingy and yellowed wallpaper started to peel from the walls. With a hiss of warning, the best of the 1970’s jewel tones filled the room punctuated by shrieks. Sharp nails sunk into Daniel’s skin. As fast as the pain erupted, the nails were gone as someone else threw themselves between Daniel and his adversary. Hissing and shrieking continued. Furniture upended. A water pitcher shattered on the floor. Someone kicked Daniel so hard that his back hit the door.

“Go!” a voice sounded Daniel’s head clearer than any dream. “Leave!”

Daniel ran without destination weaving his way through the alleys of San Francisco until he could no longer breathe. He rested his hands on his knees, bowed his head, and gasped for air. Blood dried on his arms from the claw marks. Sweat dripped from his face. He reached into his pockets. He did not have the energy to curse aloud. He no longer had his tape recorder.

Two feet gently landed beside him with barely any noise. Daniel looked up at Armand and held his gaze.

“Come with me,” Armand said.

“Give me my tape,” Daniel said.

“Louis has the tape,” Armand said. Cold fingers grasped Daniel’s wrist and urged him to follow, slipping away once Daniel obeyed. “He broke free and fled. He must not find you.”

They merged into a crowd of youths exploring the city’s nightlife. Daniel frowned. “But –”

“Louie will kill you if he finds you,” Armand said. “He denies his nature until he can no longer contain it. I do what I can to stop him, but he’s a vampire and he must feed properly. Someone will die tonight. Don’t volunteer.”

They approached a condominium complex that was much nicer than the apartment complex where the interview went sideways. Daniel wiped the sweat from his face. “Why not let him eat me?”

Armand paused before they reached the door. “Why let him eat you?”

“Answering a question with a question is a dick move,” Daniel said. He followed Armand inside.

The door closed and Daniel’s eyes opened. He was in the sitting room of the penthouse in Dubai. Once again, he fell asleep during a lull in the present interview. This was why he retired soon after his Parkinson’s medication increased the second time. He rubbed his face and sighed. Another dream that felt more like a memory. His eyebrows furrowed together. The condominium complex was more familiar to him than the events in the dream.

A cup and saucer clinked gently when they touched the table in front of Daniel. He raised his head and met Armand’s gaze before scanning the rest of the room. There was no sign of anyone else.

“Louis is resting. Recalling Paris is always stressful,” Armand said.

“Hard to talk about the death of your child and your vampire offspring with their killer always lurking nearby,” Daniel murmured. He accepted the tea.

“Vampires must think of their preservation. Even our kind need laws. Louis knows my reasoning and still chose to become my lover,” Armand said.

“Louis sees a pair of beautiful eyes and loses all reason.” Daniel set the tea down. “A man who flung him from a building and a man who can’t let him answer questions in peace.” Daniel shook his head. “He can really pick them.”

“I could give you both peace,” Armand remained standing, “but as Louis said earlier, he hasn’t killed in twenty years. Yes, he’s drunk human blood from willing participants, but that does not satiate our hunger entirely. You don’t want to become his next proper meal.”

“You said you wouldn’t save my life this time. I would think it wouldn’t matter what I become.” Daniel did not look away.

“I won’t save your life.” Armand leaned forward and placed a cold hand on Daniel’s tremoring hand. He lowered his voice until it existed only in the space between them, barely a whisper against Daniel’s ear. “You are going to die. I am going to save your death.”

Daniel shivered, but did not move away. “And if I refuse?”

“Will you refuse?” Armand kept his hand firmly on Daniel’s hand despite Daniel’s tremors.

“Answering a question with a question…” Daniel’s voice trailed as his brain distracted his speech by trying to recall the dream he had earlier.

“‘…is a dick move,’ Armand finished. After a beat, he asked as Daniel might repeat an interview question, “Will you refuse?”

“I want my real memories back,” Daniel said. “Give them to me. Whatever prank you’re pulling, I want no part of it.”

Armand leaned even closer. His breath was cool against Daniel’s skin. “You have them,” he let go of Daniel’s hand and traced the side of his face, learning the new contour, “and now you must forget the filler.”

Daniel frowned. Before he could speak, Armand’s fingers stilled and his thumb rested against the pulse point in Daniel’s neck. Daniel swallowed. He searched Armand’s eyes and then leaned away, freeing himself from Armand’s hand. His back hit the sofa cushion behind him.

Armand retracted his hand and straightened his posture. “When you first arrived, I removed the mental block I placed upon you decades ago. It’s up to your brain to do the rest.”

“Fantastic,” Daniel murmured. “Like asking a Model T to run Tesla software.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Armand said. “You’re already starting to question ‘Alice,’ aren’t you?”

Daniel did not confirm or deny it. He eyed Armand and then finished his tea. He rose from the sofa slowly. “I spent years with her. I should know what she looked like, what she sounded like.”

“‘Her,’” Armand repeated in a tone that sounded half-bemused. He picked up the teacup and saucer. “Did you leave ‘her’ or did ‘she’ leave you?”

Daniel eyed him. “Don’t you have rats to microwave?”

Armand snorted. He headed back to the kitchen. At the doorway, he turned and looked back at Daniel. “That ‘Buick’ you mentioned. It had a red interior.” He disappeared from sight.

Daniel rolled his eyes. He rubbed his face and retreated to his room. In all of his memories of that car, the interior was brown. Everything in his mind felt jumbled. He should have left like he considered doing after Louis and Armand revealed Armand’s identity days ago and the first supposed memory appeared.

Daniel’s eyes opened. Again, he was in Dubai. Again, he only slept a few hours before waking. He winced and sat up slowly. A sharp pain attacked the skin at the front of his ankle. It felt like a bite, but it was his nerves sending strange erroneous signals to his brain. He pressed on the affected skin, easing the sharpness until his nerve endings finally calmed.

Daniel breathed through his nose. His dream dissipated from his mind. He thought it was of Alice, but the more he tried to remember it, the less he remembered. It was the most he thought of her since writing his memoir soon after his Parkinson’s diagnosis.

The longer he tried to remember Alice’s face and voice, the more Daniel thought of Armand asking him if he was starting to question her. Daniel frowned and picked up his phone. He opened up an incognito browser window, typed “Alice,” and paused. Alice never took his name. He needed to remember her full name. His eyebrows drew together. He must have known it back then and likely heard it at their wedding. His gaze returned to the sunlight on the floor. When did they get married? Where did they get married? How did they get married?

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. They got married earlier in their relationship around the time he started using drugs more than earlier experimentation. If he could remember which city, if he could remember what kind of wedding, then maybe the rest would follow. San Francisco. Paris. Greenwich Village….

An image formed in Daniel’s mind, taking the shape of a memory. The full moon shed light into a dark room. Linoleum designed to look like tile was cold under his bare feet. Cold lips explored Daniel’s neck. “You are my mortal lover,” a voice whispered in his ear. “I will bind you to me.”

Daniel shivered. “Shouldn’t you ask immortal lover first?”

The voice laughed, its owner shrouded in the darkness of the room and the uncertainty of memory. “We have an agreement and he’s working on himself right now. Does it bother you to have to share?”

Cold fingers slid along the skin at Daniel’s waist, sharp nails pricking the skin without piercing it. Daniel shook his head. “No.”

The hands slid away slowly from Daniel’s body. The figure stepped back, the moon illuminating them from behind. Bright eyes held Daniel’s gaze, glowing in the dark. Long nails sliced through the flesh at the figure’s wrist. Blood dripped onto the floor audibly.

Daniel’s heart quickened. The figure drew close and brought their wrist towards his face. Daniel’s fingers tentatively ran along the figure’s arm. “Do we say vows? Binding seems serious.”

“Vows…” the figure paused and then grinned. “Sounds dramatic. Alright.” They paused for a moment to think. “This blood shall be our bond. Wherever we go, whenever we part, we will be one with each other. You will always find me and I will always find you.”

Daniel licked his lips. He never gave a thought to his own wedding let alone vows in his life. After a moment, he said, “This blood is our bond, binding us with certainty. We’ll find each other in the dark and a cold eternity.”

Fangs glinted in the light. “Very poetic.”

Daniel snorted and then licked his lips. There was no hesitation. He brought the wrist to his mouth. He ran his tongue along the trails of blood. It had no flavor he could recall. The occasional clot burst in the mouth with the texture of a fragile berry. He drank until the blood stopped flowing and the wound clotted.

His mind spun and he slowly let go. He licked the blood from his lips, wiped it from his face, and licked it from his fingers. He offered his wrist to the figure.

The figure grasped Daniel’s hand and held it in their own, bringing it towards their cold chest. “It’s not your time yet. Not here. Not now. We are bound as any mortal can be to my kind.” The figure leaned forward, let go of Daniel’s hand, and took Daniel’s face in their cold fingers. They kissed Daniel despite the blood smeared across his face and mouth. Daniel’s fingers tangled in their hair. Both of their feet rose off the ground as the kiss deepened.

Daniel’s eyes opened. He was in Dubai. A few hours passed since he fell asleep. His phone lay on his blankets and buzzed against his knee. He glanced at the screen. An automated appointment scheduling email notification appeared and disappeared. Daniel sighed, turned off his phone, and placed it back in its charger.

The thought of only moonlight, blood dripping down his chin, and cold fingers on his skin returned to his mind. It did not feel like a dream. There was viscosity to the blood, texture to the linoleum, and goosebumps on his flesh in the dream. He tried to recall more of the dream and see the figure in the shadows, but he was too tired. He stared up at the ceiling. The memory slipped away and slowly sleep claimed him again.

The penthouse in Dubai glowed in candlelight and artificial light. Louis sat in his chair and Daniel on the sofa. Armand was not far away.

“…and that’s when I met you,” Louis said. “Your mind all but sang at the bar. You were full of life.” His lips quirked upwards and his eyes almost seemed to soften despite catching the light. “But that’s a topic we can begin tomorrow.”

‘“Were full of life,”’ Daniel thought with an internal snort. He glanced at his computer but left the recording running. The sun would rise soon.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Louis said. “You are still full of life.”

“Don’t read my mind,” Daniel said. “I’m just an old bastard turning to dust. We can’t stay the people we were.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay the same.” Louis leaned forward and held Daniel’s gaze. “You might be turning to dust for now, but my offer is still there.”

Daniel’s eyes shifted to Armand standing towards the back of the room. Armand’s thumb moved along his opposite hand. His jaw was tense. Daniel’s eyes returned to Louis. “And if I refuse?”

“Then that is your choice,” Louis said. “Everyone should have that choice.”

Daniel studied Louis a long moment. “I want to finish this project as an outsider. If I became a vampire during the process, it would no longer be the piece it should be.” After the project wrapped, Daniel was not sure which choice he might make.

Louis’ smile seemed to grow. He rose from his chair, bid Daniel good morning, and headed to the doorway. He paused when he passed Armand. They stared at each other a long moment and then Louis disappeared.

Daniel slowly rose from the sofa. He gathered his things. “It bothers you whenever Louis offers me the ‘gift.’” He looked across the room at Armand. “Why?”

Armand slowly slid his hands apart and let them rest at his sides. “It’s not his to give.”

“There don’t seem to be rules to it,” Daniel said. “Unlike this place.” His eyes scanned the room. “The books out of reach, the sterile sand garden in a lively desert. Your constant presence monitoring his every word.” His gaze returned to Armand. “Rules and control.”

“He is free to say and do what he likes,” Armand said. “I am not here to monitor his words.”

“Then why are you here?” Daniel asked. “If not to monitor his story, if not to spare my life, then why? Certainly there are more interesting things on TV.”

“What do you think will happen when the rest of the vampire world discovers this interview?” Armand asked. “What do you think they’ll do when they learn how Louis was spared despite attempting to murder one of us, how he has spoken about us, and his connections? Even Lestat creating a beaming bisexual beacon of a rock star will not distract from the rumors this time.”

“So you do know about Lestat’s band and Louis doesn’t,” Daniel said.

“I know because I use my ears and my eyes,” Armand said. “Louis chooses to pull away from such things.”

Daniel eyed Armand. He did not truly buy that this was entirely Louis’ idea. He did not think Louis would be able to resist if he heard Lestat’s voice on the radio or reason it away. Daniel slowly closed the bag.

Armand ran his thumb along his opposite hand and then slowly parted his hands. “You only know two vampires, and the written diary of a third. You cannot judge all vampires. We must protect each other, which means we must also kill each other when threatened. Louis is weak by his own choice. When you publish this interview, it could end with his severed head.”

“So why let him do the interview at all?” Daniel asked. “Doesn’t this interview also threaten you?”

“I am old enough to know a large majority of mortals will see your piece as a fantastic tale that deserves a speculative fiction award,” Armand said. “Other vampires are not so wise. This interview is no threat to me.”

“‘Wise,’” Daniel repeated with a tiny snort. “If this is a suicide mission, you should let him tell the truth.” Daniel shouldered his computer bag. “Otherwise it’s not worth dying for.” He headed to his bedroom. His limbs felt heavy and exhaustion tugged him towards his bed as if tonight he might have uninterrupted sleep. Yet, as usual, sleep was sporadic and unfulfilling.

Every time Daniel woke, he could almost just feel blood drip down his chin and puddle in his mouth. His heart palpated wildly to the point he almost could not breathe. His bouts of wakefulness were longer and his bouts of sleep shorter. Everything ached. No sleeping position seemed right. He thought of blood like he used to think of LSD in the middle of the night in New York with barely enough blankets against the cold. Anything to escape being overtired and too awake.

He still could not remember Alice’s face or voice. He began to doubt her eyebrows were unique. He still could not remember if they bothered with a wedding ceremony or signed papers in a courthouse. He had no idea how to find proof she existed beyond his own memoir. He knew she loved the theater and movies. He knew she was always devising some new horrible concoction of foods because the combined color was pretty or disgusting. He knew they broke up in the kitchen. Daniel closed his eyes.

In his dream, Daniel’s hands shook but differently than they shook from Parkinson’s. His clothes barely protected against the wind and hung off his thin frame. His stomach rumbled but the scent of every restaurant he passed on the street turned it upside down. The briefcase strapped over his shoulder with the notes for his latest article slapped against his hipbone, but he ignored the pain. His pace quickened when he saw the condominium complex up ahead.

A doorman with the thickest moustache and brightest blue suit stopped Daniel before he could even reach the door. He would not let Daniel pass even after Daniel showed him his driver’s license that had this very address printed across it.

Abruptly the door opened and a voice spoke, “You remember Daniel, don’t you? He lives with me. He’s a freelancer. He’s been abroad with a story.”

The doorman eyed Daniel but reluctantly let him enter the building. Daniel’s stomach rumbled loudly. He followed a shadowy figure up the dimly lit stairs. He wiped saliva from his mouth. He could not take his eyes off the figure’s skin especially their wrists.

“When did you last eat?” the figure asked.

“You know when,” Daniel almost growled. His stomach rumbled again.

“You’re a mortal. You cannot survive on my blood alone.” The figure let them into a unit near the top of the building. “You were gone for a month. You must have eaten something.”

“I drank coconut water,” Daniel said, “nothing else smelled or tasted right.”

The figure paused. Dark eyes regarded Daniel. “I see.” The figure moved deeper into the apartment.

Daniel set his bag down, kicked off his shoes, and followed them to the kitchen. The latest kitchenware technology lined the counter space.

“Sit,” the figure said.

“Feed me,” Daniel growled.

“I will. Sit.”

When Daniel sat on a nearby chair, the figure rummaged through the fridge. It ripped cabbage, tomato, and carrots into pieces with its claw-like fingernails. It tossed them all into a mixing bowl that was much too large for its contents. The figure found a fork and set the salad on the small table beside Daniel.

Daniel stared at the salad a long moment. His gaze slowly moved towards the figure. “Are you fucking serious?”

The figure reached out and grasped Daniel’s shirt collar, their grip tight. They moved the collar away from Daniel’s chest, exposing an ample gap. “I remember when this shirt clung to you.”

“I lost weight,” Daniel said. “It happens.”

The figure let go of Daniel’s shirt and turned back to the fridge. “I should feed you protein too. Do you think you would eat a cat? It’s meatier than usual. I think someone fed it well.”

“I would eat blood,” Daniel said. “You bound me to this. Feed me.”

The figure eyed him. They pushed dark wavy hair from their eyes with a dramatic gesture. “First it was ‘Turn me! Turn me! Turn me!’ and now it’s ‘Feed me! Feed me! Feed me!’ You’re only mortal I’ve ever bound. I thought it would keep you at my side not at my veins!”

“Then feed me from your side!” Daniel lunged for the figure. The figure lifted into the air. Daniel lunged repeatedly, but the figure was always out of reach. Daniel crashed into the table, knocking it over and the salad scattered across the floor.

“Pathetic,” the figure hissed. “This isn’t working.” Their feet gently landed on the floor and they knelt at Daniel’s side. “I told you if you bored me I would kill you, but a mortal death would be too kind and your blood would taste awful.”

Pain ripped into Daniel’s wrist and his blood oozed down his arm and gathered in drops on the floor. Daniel cried out.

The figure gathered Daniel’s blood on their fingers and brought it to their mouth. “I release you from our binding.” They gathered more of Daniel’s blood on their fingers and fed it to Daniel. “You will stop seeking me out. This blood is a symbol of a new pact. You are no longer bound to me.”

Daniel desperately licked his blood from the figure’s fingers. It tasted terrible and did not quell his hunger.

“I will leave you here.” The figure stood.

Daniel grasped their pants leg with his free hand. “….Armand…” he hissed.

Armand looked down at him no longer in shadow. “Live a long life, Daniel.” He lifted himself to the air just out of reach and left the kitchen. The door closed soon after.

Daniel could barely move from the floor. He let out a frustrated growl and shut his eyes. The hunger gnawed at him until he felt hollow. He drank his own blood and shouted in anger.

When Daniel’s eyes opened, the sunset was at its peak and his room and Dubai glowed red. Daniel slowly left the bed and approached the windows. His mind spun. Images flooded him, each one barely registering before the next took its place. Armand looking down at him in that kitchen full of disgust. Armand’s small smile whenever Daniel would take his hands to warm them with his own. Armand leaning forward while watching the dancer he patronized spin across the stage as the contemporary music droned. Armand sitting under strings of lights at a Paris café telling Daniel how awful the dessert tasted. Armand wasting food and destroying kitchen equipment with animals while talking excitedly about the artistry of his colorful messes. Armand filming short artsy films with excitement and dramatic flair. Armand leaning closer in a moonlit apartment, offering his dripping wrist while Daniel composed vows on the spot.

Daniel leaned against a window. His heart pounded in his ears. His legs weakened. He slowly sat on the floor without much warning. He bowed his head and put his hands over his ears when a memory of Louis from San Francisco sprang forth, gouging Daniel’s arms with his long nails. Daniel took deep breaths, but they felt more like gasps. His heart would not calm. The memories would not stop. He shut his eyes as tight as he could.

Slowly Armand’s face faded from Daniel’s mind until there was nothing. Little memories untouched by vampirism began to appear. Eating his first real meal after breaking up with Armand in a dirty McDonalds while the woman who would become who he thought of as his second wife closed up for the night. Sharing a car with her to and from an addiction recovery program while she talked about her struggle with opiates. Rain lashing on their wedding day two years later, their friends from the recovery program the only people in attendance. Holding his daughters as newborns years apart, finding how different babies could be even so tiny. His heart rate slowed and when he opened his eyes, the hotel room in Dubai was dark except for the glow of Armand’s iPad and a light in nearby room. Voices whispered. Daniel slowly began to understand the words.

“I read that it has to be adjusted periodically,” Louis said, “and eventually it will stop working. If it even was the medicine that caused this.” He stood across from the foot of the bed where Armand sat with his iPad lay on his lap, the brightness turned all the way down.

“We can’t rule the medicine out. We can’t trust the hospitals either,” Armand said.

“We might not have to,” Louis said. “We can assess things when he wakes. The doctor will be here soon. They’ll know what to do.”

Daniel slowly sat up. “I’m awake.” He rubbed his face and then flexed his fingers to ease the tremors. “What time is it?”

“Half past eleven,” Louis said. “How do you feel?”

Daniel’s gaze moved from Louis to Armand and back to Louis. “As normal as someone can when two vampires greet them in their bedroom.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Louis asked.

“I woke up, it was sunset. I woke up again, and it’s now,” Daniel said. “I feel like I’ve been microwaved.” He slowly moved his legs to the side of the bed.

“You collapsed,” Louis said. “Armand found you. You should stay in bed until the doctor arrives. We will continue the interview tomorrow.”

“I’m not that far gone,” Daniel said. He stood slowly, keeping one hand to the wall just in case his legs weakened again, but this time they did not. His head did not feel too full. His heart remained calm. He walked to his suitcase and picked out clothes for the night. He looked at the vampires watching him. “I didn’t break anything. I’m not dizzy. I’m going to get dressed and do my job.” He escaped to the bathroom.

Daniel could hear quiet discussion happening once he closed the door. He did not lock it just in case he did fall again, but he did not fall. When he left the bathroom, his brain still felt fried but his legs and heart felt like they always did in the last decade. The light in his room was on and the tray that always appeared after he got ready for the night sat in its spot with his medication and glass of water. The doctor who helped monitor his condition in Dubai waited for him. Daniel submitted to the exam.

The doctor assessed that Daniel was exhausted and agreed with Louis that Daniel should rest. It was frustrating, but provided an opportunity to review notes and evaluate strategy for upcoming interview sessions. The city lights glowed outside the windows in the sitting room and periodically drew Daniel’s gaze. Feeling eyes on him, Daniel found Armand watching him from the doorway. Daniel eyed him. “Gotten your fill screwing around with my memories yet?”

Armand set tea down in front of Daniel along with several ghraybeh cookies placed on a small china dessert plate. “I told you, I’ve removed my manipulations. It’s up to your own mind for what happens next.”

Daniel took a cookie. It had an almond placed in its center. It was delicious. “I think it’s more than that. Every memory I have that should be Alice, is now of you. So either this is a prank in which you replace my memories of her with bullshit or one of your experiments where you find out what happens when you fabricate a whole person, let them exist for over forty years, and then take the fake person away to see what happens.” Daniel sipped his tea. “Either way, it pisses me off. I’m not here to be one of your rats.”

“Or I took your memories of what happens and now gave them back.” Armand remained standing. “Have you figured out how we broke up?”

“You left me bleeding on the kitchen floor,” Daniel said.

“That was the first time,” Armand said, “but I miscalculated how to stop the hunger.”

“You shouldn’t have been feeding me your blood in the first place.” Daniel took another cookie.

“You kept begging me to turn you. I thought this would be a compromise.” Armand sighed inaudibly. “But it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Well I’m glad both of us found the monkey paw in that then,” Daniel quipped. He finished the snack. His shoulders sagged more than he would have liked. He felt more unrested than usual despite waking much later than any other interview day. “And someone I’m supposed to believe you want to turn me now?”

Armand leaned on the table so their eyes would be level. “Why wouldn’t I? What other vampire can choose such a person? You know our secrets. You no longer think like a child. You have the fascination to want to turn but also the wisdom almost to resist.”

Daniel met his gaze. “I’m wrinkled and flabby. I don’t put up with bullshit. You won’t be able to keep me in this zoo of a penthouse.”

Armand reached out, running his fingers through Daniel’s hair and curling them at his ear. Armand leaned closer until his breath felt cold against Daniel’s neck. “If that bothered me, I would have plucked you sooner.”

Armand kissed Daniel right where his jaw met his neck, letting his lips linger a moment. Daniel shivered. He swallowed.

Armand stopped leaning on the table, picked up the tray of used china, and slipped from the room. Daniel watched him, his gaze lingering on the doorway even after Armand left.

Snow covered the mall parking lot. Christmas lights shone from any tree in sight. The car ran in the parking spot to keep warm. Luckily, the gas crisis was over. Daniel glanced at the rear view mirror. His daughter slept soundly where she lay on the backseat hugging a well-worn bear. His pregnant wife would get off work soon and they would all head home and out of the cold.

Last minute shoppers headed to their cars. Daniel idly watched them, but there was nothing interesting about any of them until one caught his attention. Daniel’s heartbeat immediately increased. Sweat gathered on his palms. His stomach rumbled even though he ate dinner two hours ago. He did not blink. He did not think. He left the car running and rushed out into the slush and snow, barely remembering to shut the door.

“Armand!” the almost whispered shout seemed to echo despite the snow and slush.

Armand had a large box in a bag in his hand. The snow clung to his hair as flurries spit from the sky. His attention turned towards Daniel.

Daniel rushed forward. “I need you…” his voice trailed. He glanced back over his shoulder. The car was still running with all the doors closed. The driver’s door was unlocked. He could not leave his daughter like that. His attention returned to Armand. His stomach rumbled audibly again. Sweat gathered at his brow. His heart pounded in his ears. His arms weakened. Thoughts of blood flooded his mind. He glanced back over his shoulder and then back at Armand. His body seemed to twitch. His mind ground to an almost audible halt.

Armand approached slowly. He took Daniel’s arm and guided him back to the car, peering inside. “Adorable,” he said with the same genuine voice he used when he spoke to the children in costumes on Halloween.

Daniel found his voice. “She’s mine.” He swallowed. “There’s another on the way.” His eyes did not move from Armand.

Armand’s attention returned to Daniel. He let go of Daniel’s arm and set his bag on top of the car instead of in the snow and slush at their feet. He caressed the side of Daniel’s face. The parking lot light made his hair glow. Christmas lights shone behind him. “I thought I could undo our blood bond, but I cannot. However, I can hide it.” His fingers slid to the back of Daniel’s neck, his grip firm. “When you are dying, I will return and give you what you truly want, but for now, I’ll take your memory, your hunger, your desire.” He leaned down and kissed Daniel. There was no nipping and no blood. The hand at Daniel’s neck kept Daniel still. When Armand broke the kiss, he stepped back. “Goodbye for now, Daniel.”

Daniel gasped for breath and fell forward into waiting arms. His eyes closed and he was only vaguely aware of Armand guiding him into the driver’s seat of his car and shutting the car door soundly.

When Daniel’s eyes opened, he was in his room in Dubai. He sat up slowly and fumbled with his phone. It was earlier than he might normally give up on sleeping. A notification flashed on screen. It was an email from his youngest daughter. Daniel held his breath a moment and then opened the app and the email.

“Dad,

“One of the other professors asked after you today. I’ve been so busy converting my lesson plans that I haven’t been keeping up on the news. He said you’re in Dubai.

“How is Dubai? Can you tell me why you’re there? Are you well? I want to hear it from you and not the news.”

Daniel sighed and stared out the windows. The phone slipped from his fingers and the screen eventually went to sleep. He could reply later on his laptop. He watched the sky a long moment. His mind was full but settled. His heart was calm. He had no desire to go back to sleep. He did not know if he wanted to stay.

Daniel slowly got out of bed and got ready for the night. Like the night after he found out “Rashid” was Armand, Daniel changed into clothes he could wear to the airport or the interview. He packed his bags while ignoring the medicine bottles, letting the movements ease the tremors in his hands. He could head to the airport and board the first flight he could find away from here. He was almost to the end of the interview and could stay to finish it. He could get away from Armand and let his memories return to normal if possible. It might not matter if these really were his true memories. He could tell the vampires to go fuck themselves again. He could finish his contract and leave his daughters with a financial cushion when the world was on the brink of a potential economic depression. He slowly closed his bag. He stared out the windows at the start of the sunset.

He could not remember what Armand’s blood tasted like, which made it all feel like dreams. He almost wanted to know, but he did not want to end up rock bottom on a kitchen floor ever again. He could feel the texture of it in his mouth. He swallowed and breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind. The feeling of eyes on him drew Daniel’s attention to the doorway.

Armand entered the room with the morning tray. He placed it where it belonged and placed pills from the medicine bottles nearby on the saucer so they did not obscure the painting in the center. “If you leave, don’t forget your medicine.”

“As if you’d let me leave,” Daniel said.

“You are always free to leave.” Armand stepped back so Daniel could access the tray. “But do you really want to leave?”

“Is Louis also always free to leave?” Daniel asked. He approached the tray but ignored it for now.

“He is, but he chooses not to,” Armand said. “When we discovered the diaries, it brought up a lot of negative emotion. He’s trying to avoid another outburst.”

They stood close enough that Daniel could feel the chill radiating from Armand. Armand’s clothing exposed his clavicle and neck but nothing more unlike the clothing he wore at the start of this interview.

“Should I return to the t-shirts?” Armand smiled an almost smirk.

“Out of my head,” Daniel said.

“I don’t have to pry into your mind to know what’s clearly on your face,” Armand said. “I know you.”

“Do the clothes affect your body temperature?” Daniel asked.

“As much as it would affect a corpse,” Armand said. “Are you going to take your medicine?”

Daniel looked at the pills. “There came a point at the start of the pandemic where I asked myself, ‘Am I living to live or living to avoid death?’” His gaze shifted to Armand. “I don’t want to waste my money on a life that’s no longer about living. I might deteriorate faster, but I am closer to dying than ever before, and the money that could go into putting death off should go to those who can use it to live.”

Armand moved closer and his fingers barely rested against Daniel’s waist just above his belt. “You could die to live and it would be irrelevant.”

Daniel did not avert his gaze or step back. “And stay with the man who fed me his blood because he didn’t know how to ask me to stay? Stay with the man who tangled my memories?”

“Would you rather I kept you bound to me all this time?” Armand drew closer.

The light from the sunset faded. A lamp lit on its own, providing dim light. Daniel licked his lips. “You could just ask for the things you want.” He slowly took Armand’s hands in his and brought them close to his body, holding them so that they would warm. Armand’s eyes fixed on their hands. His shoulders seemed to relax. When the tremors became too much, Daniel let go. He stepped away to take his medicine and then went to get his laptop bag with all of his interview supplies.

Armand pressed his own hands together, letting the vague warmth resonate until it dissipated.

The interview moved from the dining table to the sitting room. Daniel settled on the sofa and Louis on the chair. Armand sat on a different chair nearby with his iPad, one eye always watching the proceedings.

“You’ve started to remember more about the first interview, haven’t you?” Louis asked.

“Memories and dreams are too closely related,” Daniel said. “Besides, this is about your recollection and your perspective.”

“Of course,” Louis said. He took a breath and resumed his recollection, “Like in Florida, Armand and I started to cruise the bars in San Francisco. Tourists, students, people looking for a secret rendezvous – all were fair game. We worked as a team, seducing people back to a small apartment where no one would bother us and our prey. Armand always liked to watch.”

Daniel had dreams that felt like memories where he participated in a similar sexual game. He ignored those thoughts for now and said, “So you picked me, but you talked to me instead. What changed your mind?”

“It’s easy to almost hypnotize mortals, even when mortal,” Louis said. “You lean in, say the right words, place a strategic hand, and the rest follows. When I touched you, you noticed it was strange and cold. Instead of ignoring it or rationalizing it, you started thinking about it. I told you I was old enough to be your grandpa, and you considered it instead of dismissing it as a strange line.” Louis smiled slightly. “When you introduced yourself, I recognized your name from the newspaper. I admired your work trying to help clean up the rivers, so I thought if there was anyone who might believe me, anyone I could tell my story to, you were one of those rare people.

“I wasn’t wrong, but I was only starting to process what happened. I was still bitter. I hadn’t analyzed anything yet.” Louis continued his narration. After he attacked Daniel, he fled the apartment in San Francisco and hit the streets just as Armand said he would in one of the recovered memories. After this bender, Louis withdrew and used the next several years to think about the memories. He returned to New Orleans and Europe, forcing himself to confront what he could and the ghosts of his past.

“I knew Armand would take up with you,” Louis said. “I was more surprised that you hadn’t convinced him to turn you when you both arrived in Paris than I was surprised to see you with him.”

“Were you jealous?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Louis said. “After Paris, I saw you a few other times. Every time the life that drew me to you in San Francisco drained away. You were a phantom, irritable and obsessive. You were so preoccupied with the blood you craved that you barely noticed the rest of the world. You no longer had any curiosity.” He paused. “I felt sad and concerned for you, but no envy or jealousy. I was grateful to not be in your position.”

A silence passed. Daniel opened his mouth but a noise from his bedroom seemed to echo through the penthouse despite the carpeting. The sound of breeze knocking paper and other light items to the ground sounded. Footsteps approached. Armand discarded his iPad. Louis rose to his feet. Daniel switched to the recording app on his phone, put his laptop away as fast as he was capable, and then placed the strap of his laptop bag across his body securely.

A man appeared, his long golden hair windswept from climbing the building but somehow immaculately in place. He wore a plunging pirate’s blouse with puffed sleeves and the tightest pinkest leather pants. He strode into the room in heeled boots and his gazed fixed on Louis, his makeup firmly on point. “Good night, Louis.” He looked towards the sofa and gave a small wave. “Good night, Daniel.”

Daniel returned the wave in kind. “Good night.” He did not know how else to react.

Armand moved to Louis’ side. Louis’ eyes softened and then immediately hardened. His shoulders squared. “Why are you here, Lestat? Tired of playing dead?”

Lestat’s attention returned to Louis. He snorted. “Dead men don’t have conversations in abandoned houses! You were so consumed when we last met that you treated me as a specter, an illusion!” Lestat moved a hand through the air. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is the present. We’re in the middle of a great crisis and you are playing house.”

“I am not ‘playing house,’” Louis said. “I’ve been with Armand for sixty years now. I don’t want anything to do with this ‘grand conversion’ or whatever is happening out there.”

“It’s not a conversion,” Lestat said. “The mortals are dying of a plague while vampires are spontaneously combusting. Our populations aren’t growing; they’re dwindling, mortal and vampire alike.”

“If that was true, Marius would have said something,” Louis said. He looked at Armand. “Right?”

Armand nodded. “Marius mentioned something like that. It started around the time that the mortals started dying of a respiratory virus. I haven’t seen anyone combust myself. Those that have advised not to speak of it mentally.”

Louis stared a long moment. “The pandemic started months ago, when we moved to this penthouse. I had no idea.”

Armand did not avert his gaze. He did not say anything either.

“I too have spoken to Marius,” Lestat said. “It does not seem random. When I left him, I knew you would be hiding, but I had to find you. I immediately remembered a rumor I heard when I emerged from the ground forty years ago. Everyone said a vampire had a biographer. No one knew who it was. There was never an article or a book, so I thought it was just a story until I met Daniel Molloy.”

Daniel ran his tongue along his teeth. He was glad when no one looked his way.

“The other reporters who interviewed me on tour either thought of their own problems or if they noticed strange things about me, they dismissed these things easily,” Lestat continued. “Daniel did not do that. It made him remember someone with the same qualities. He had to be the biographer. He knew a vampire but was still mortal and unafraid.

“So, dear Louis, when I read that Daniel flew to Dubai, I knew of only one vampire who could inspire such risk, inspire such loyalty.” Lestat paused. “If I can find you, who else can find you? Whoever is causing the spontaneous combustion? Someone looking for revenge? Madeleine will not be as charitable as I am if you cross her path.”

Louis stiffened and took a step forward, pulling himself to his full height. “Keep her name out of your mouth!”

Lestat did not back away. This time his smile sparkled in his eyes. “Or what?”

Armand stepped between them. The glee left Lestat’s eyes for a moment. Armand leaned close to Louis’ ear. He rested a hand on Louis’ waist. “Louis, he’s trying to provoke you. You were there in Paris. You saw their ashes.”

“Then who did I meet?” Lestat asked. “The Madeleine I met is a charming Parisian woman at Claudia’s side who laments that her craft died out with Mattel.”

“Mattel didn’t exist then,” Armand said.

“In the 1990’s? I assure you it very much did,” Lestat said.

“In the 1940’s when she died,” Armand said. “When she turned to ash. Ash we saw.”

“Two women chained up in a courtyard waiting for the sun in a city full of soldiers looking for opportunity,” Lestat said. “You saw the ash, but who died that morning? Did you see who burnt in the courtyard?”

No one spoke. No one moved.

“Answer him,” Louis said quietly.

Armand’s gaze shifted from Lestat to Louis. “Louis, this is –”

“Answer him,” Louis almost hissed. He stepped away from Armand.

Armand took a deep breath. “I was not part of the team that kept watch that night. I was looking for an opportunity to free you.”

“After Claudia and Madeleine were to die,” Lestat said. “When did you find this opportunity? Two days later? Three days?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. His hands trembled but not in the way that Daniel’s hands tremored. He stretched his jaw slowly.

“When else was I going to do it?” Armand asked. “If I freed him before that morning, he would have tried to save them, and he would have suffered their fate for it.”

“As if you would be so benevolent to let him even think of attempting a rescue,” Lestat said. “If you waited until they died, then you could have Louis to yourself, but he still rejected you.”

“And then became my lover fifteen years later,” Armand said, “while you were wallowing in New Orleans scavenging on vermin. He treated you as a specter because that’s what you were.”

“Enough,” Louis’ voice almost seemed to echo even though it was quiet.

Lestat and Armand immediately turned towards Louis.

“Enough,” Louis repeated. He stood in front of an interior wall, candles flickering nearby. “Claudia and Madeleine…all this time….” He shook his head and looked at Lestat and Armand. “I always knew y’all were treacherous. I always knew yall were cruel. I accepted this. It’s what you both are, what vampires are.” He paused for effect and his eyes rose to the ceiling. “It’s exciting. It’s alluring. It’s maybe even some kind of divine punishment.”

Lestat’s eyes never left Louis while Danniel and Armand’s eyes followed Louis’ gaze. A sprinkler head rested in the center of the ceiling. The mechanism that shut off access to the water slowly turned.

Armand knocked Louis to the ground to break his gaze. Louis fought back. Claws drew blood. Armand tried to subdue Louis. Louis tried to lash out and break free.

Daniel tensed but did not move from the sofa. Lestat watched the fight practically sparkling. He spoke to Daniel conversationally, “You are still here.”

“If I’m going to die, I’d rather be at the epicenter of the disaster and die instantly than suffocate in the elevator or fall down the stairs,” Daniel said.

“Of course.” Lestat’s smile grew whenever Louis gained an upper hand. “Tell me, Daniel. Do you want to die?”

Daniel held his breath a moment. His heartbeat increased. Both yes and no rested against his tongue. “I don’t know.”

Louis broke free from Armand and rushed to his feet. The light glinted off his fangs and Armand’s blood dripped from his nails. His eyes seemed to glow. His body trembled with rage. His stomach rumbled audibly.

“I would like a definite answer,” Lestat said. “Yes or no.”

Louis’ gaze shifted to Daniel. His stomach rumbled again. Daniel’s tongue went dry. Hesitation evaporated. “Not like this.”

Louis rushed forward. Armand leapt into the air and landed in front of Daniel at the same moment Lestat moved. Louis’ fangs dug into Lestat’s arm. The blood seemed to fill Louis’ senses. His eyes closed. He could not stop himself from guzzling.

“Take him!” Lestat said.

“Don’t order me!” Armand lifted Daniel from the sofa without effort.

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but before he could say a word, Armand rushed to the door, opened it with his mind, and slammed the door shut behind them. Daniel could hear the locks clicking back into place. “You can – You can put me down,” Daniel said.

“Not yet.” Armand went to the stairwell. His grip tightened on Daniel and then he lit onto the railing before plunging down the stairwell at a rapid pace.

Dizziness overtook Daniel. His wrapped his arms around Armand’s neck and closed his eyes. The falling seemed endless. They landed with barely a tap of Armand’s shoes on the ground floor landing.

The fire alarms rang. Residents filled the stairs. Armand slipped out the emergency exit. Armand took several leaps, riding the sea breeze almost like a kite, carrying Daniel across highways lined with trees. Breaks squealed and multiple vehicles crashed. Sirens and smoke filled the air. Armand finally landed.

Daniel waited for the dizziness to pass. His feet touched the ground and he slowly let go of Armand. They stood near a bench in a pedestrian area surrounded by high rises. Fire and smoke rose into the sky in the distance. City lights sparkled against a narrow lake in front of them. The sky began to lighten.

“The serial arsonist strikes again,” Daniel murmured. He sat on the bench. His heart raced. He fumbled with his phone and stopped the recording. He closed out of the application and opened an incognito search window.

Armand’s thumb ran along his other hand. He watched the building burning against the dawn.

Daniel scrolled through his flight options. The flight he could afford had a few seats left. His eyes wandered to Armand. The sunrise colored the sky and the buildings. Their portion of the pedestrian area remained in shadow. Daniel licked his lips and said, “The airport is a half hour from here by car. There’s a flight to New York leaving in the middle of the night tomorrow. It has two stops, but there’s still enough seats left for both of us.”

Armand sat on the bench. He peered at the phone screen and scrolled through the flights with his finger. “There are flights with no stops and enough seats.”

“For over one thousand dollars,” Daniel said.

Armand stopped touching the phone. He searched Daniel’s eyes. “Are you inviting me to go home with you?”

Daniel let his phone rest on his thigh before it could fall from his fingers. “Yes. Don’t make me change my mind.” His heart finally slowed. Exhaustion began to take hold.

Armand retrieved his own phone. His thumbs flew across the screen.

Daniel did not remember closing his eyes but almost immediately, Armand’s cold fingers on his arm woke him.

“I’ve secured a ride and a flight.” Armand pressed Daniel’s phone into his hands and slipped his own phone into his pocket.

Daniel pocketed his phone. He followed Armand away from the lake and up towards the street. In less than a day, they would be back in New York City.

The End

#my fanfics #my fanfics 2022 #my iwtv amc fanfics #iwtv amc fanfics #interview with the vampire amc #devils minion #armand x daniel

13 notes · View notes

uozlulu · 1 year

Text

IwtV AMC fic. May You Get What You Desire Is a Curse upon the Dead.

Character(s)/Relationship(s) Armand, Daniel, Fareed, Louis; Armand/Daniel Genre Drama/Horror/Romance/Slash/Vampire Rating PG-13 (unless you want to count language then R) Word Count 9,615 Disclaimer As this is fanfiction, I do not hold copyright to the source material(s) nor do I claim that I do. This is for free entertainment purposes only. Summary Daniel wants the creature with the glowing eyes and sharp fangs. Armand wants the mortal shaped by life. Mortality forces their hands. Warning(s) spoilers up through season 1 episode 7, spoilers from The Queen of the Damned, vampire attack, language, drug use, imprisonment, stalking, blood drinking, implied sexual content, set during the AIDS crisis, set during the COVID-19 pandemic, unhealthy relationships, non-explicit sexual content, brief mentions of murder by vampire attack, brief mention of cannibalism, mention of death, coronavirus infection, major character undeath Notes I’ve been thinking about desire a lot lately. It might be my supermodel supports car midlife crisis. These thoughts led me to the final Daniel POV scene of this fic, and then I kind of came up with the rest of it from there. I decided not to write a straight up lemon because I’ve been there, done that, and I didn’t feel like doing it again. Sorry about that for all of you who were hoping this would be more explicit. As per usual, I’m on my Armand is Alice BS, but this time Daniel scrambled his own brain.

This fic is set up with all of Daniel’s POV scenes being in the past and all of Armand’s POV scenes being in the present so I could alternate between their perspectives without the timeline getting confusing. I thought a linear presentation wasn’t the correct vibe for the fic considering it’s about wanting things and so forth rather than a chronological exploration. I also tried to change things up a little while nodding to the source material so that it could hopefully be a kind of AU to enjoy no matter what the show does when it gets to all these things.

As a heads up, I’ve watched the show only once, I read Interview about twenty years ago in university, I’ve read the Devil’s Minion chapter of The Queen of the Damned, and several excerpts from various books along with synopsizes. Some of what I know comes from having friends and acquaintances in the fandom since I was in middle school and being an active part of the TV fandom since last fall. Sorry if I miss something or misremember it. Luckily, the show’s theme is the odyssey of recollection so I feel like I have some wiggle room to vibe a bit especially since it changes some things up here and there itself.

AO3 link

Also posted below

May You Get What You Desire Is a Curse upon the Dead

It was the fall of 1972. Daniel had no time to react when Louis’ fangs sank into his neck. Daniel’s eyes widened. At first all he could process was the peeling wallpaper on the far wall over Louis’ shoulder. As pleasure began to swell, Daniel’s hands lifted, but he found no desire to struggle, to fight. He closed his eyes and his hands slowly lowered.

A door slammed open and an unnatural hiss filled the air. Cold hands shoved Daniel to the ground, ripping him from Louis’ jaws. Blood oozed from Daniel’s neck. His vision swam. His fingernails remained bitten and his teeth remained rounded. There was no transformation coming. He looked up just in time for Armand to force Louis across the room, both vampire’s fangs barred and eyes glowing.

‘Leave!’ a voice rang in Daniel’s mind and seemingly in his ears though no one spoke aloud. ‘Leave now!’

Daniel got to his feet, shoved his recorder into his pocket, and barreled out the front door, almost tripping on the stairs. Two and three story town houses rose up around him on both sides of the street, some painted dark and others light. They were all in varying states of disrepair. The occasional car sped by. Daniel touched his neck. It still bled. His knees wanted to buckle. He barely had time to register the front door opening before Armand stood beside him, dragging him by the arm to a small door on the same level of the town house as the bottom step.

“I thought you told me to leave,” Daniel tried to walk towards the street, but Armand’s grip was too steady and his strength too much to overcome.

Armand opened the door and urged Daniel inside. “Stay here until the blood stops. If they come looking for you, I will leave you to rot.” He shut the door and locked it.

Daniel rushed forward towards the door, but there did not seem to be a handle or hinges inside the room. There were no windows either. “Hey! Hey! What the fuck?!” He pounded on the door but there was no response. He tried shouting but again there was only silence. He could not even hear the occasional car speed by on their way home from the clubs.

Daniel reached into his pockets, finding only his recorder, condoms, matches, and the last of his acid. He cursed loudly. He must have left the interview mini-cassettes in the living room. So much for writing Louis’ memoir. Daniel sighed and lit a match to assess the room. The walls were stone and concrete. The door was metal. On the wall opposite the door there were wooden shelves holding a few canning jars filled with unidentifiable preserves. A skeleton lay slouched in a corner. The flames touched Daniel’s fingers and he dropped the match to the concrete floor and put it out. The room held some heat but it chilled with the night.

“Fuck this,” Daniel murmured and dropped acid.

The bite on his neck stopped bleeding before the trip ended. He lit a match to look at his watch but he could not be sure if was four hours or sixteen hours later. His stomach rumbled. He never should have sold his lighter. He lit another match and peered at the preserves. All of them looked like organ meat canned in garish pink or red liquid. His stomach rumbled. He did not have the luxury to abstain. He opened one of the jars. It smelled of strong, unidentifiable spices to enhance the deep red color. Daniel pulled the pickled meat apart with his fingers and tasted it.

“Christ.” He almost spit it out but willed himself to swallow. He tried another small piece and managed not to gag. He gave up on a third helping and closed the jar. He sat against the wall under the shelves and rubbed his face. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was a canteen of water near the door. He rushed forward and guzzled the water despite wanting to make it last. The more he drank, the more he became aware that the door was only barely open. Night breeze blew into the room. There was enough streetlight to see the canteen and the figure standing nearby, its eyes glowing orange in the darkness. Daniel almost choked on the water.

Armand stepped into the thin slice of streetlight. It made his brown skin glow the same orange as his eyes and made his dark curls almost shimmer a deep, dark amber. He titled his head and one eye caught more light than the other eye did as he assessed Daniel.

“Is this a ritual?” Daniel asked. He did not remember Louis mentioning starvation and the most disgusting offal known to man before Lestat turned him.

“No,” Armand said. “It’s a stay of execution.” He moved swiftly, standing just in front of Daniel in not even a blink of an eye. The backs of his fingernails skimmed the scabs at Daniel’s neck. “I can’t decide how to kill you.”

Daniel shivered. He should take a step back but he could not look away from Armand’s eyes and fangs. “You could kill me by turning me instead. You know, win-win…?”

Armand laughed, melodic but raspy, filling the room and Daniel’s stomach with echoes. “No. I won’t do that.” He leaned forward, his breath cold against Daniel’s face. “You will run and when I catch you, I’ll show you my choice.”

Armand’s fangs glistened in the dim light. Daniel swallowed and somehow found his legs. He pushed past Armand, running from the room. He raced down the street until he gave way to panting and nausea. He did not know where to go. His stomach rumbled. His throat felt dry despite the water He glanced over his shoulder. Armand’s eyes glowed down the street in the shadows. Daniel turned and fled.

It was the summer of 2022 in Dubai. A three-sided tower rose in the air amongst other skyscrapers. From two sides, it looked out across the sprawling city, and from its third side, the city gave way to the gulf glistening in the distance. Sunlight illuminated Armand’s skin but did not burn or heat it. All the windows except one protected any vampire in the building from its rays. Armand adjusted his gloves. He filed his nails to half their length and wore brown contacts. He slipped into Louis’ entourage without comment or incident. The disguise was Armand’s invention, but it was Louis’ suggestion to do a second interview since the first one never resulted in a memoir. As the sun faded from the sky, Armand heard the elevator whirr. If he needed to breathe, he might have held it.

Daniel entered the apartment. The lamplight clung to him, bringing out the white in his hair. His heart beat in Armand’s ears and his breath filled the air. His eyes caught the light and shone sharp and clear, focused on Louis and the upcoming interview. Armand stepped forward to shake Daniel’s hand. The touch traveled from Armand’s arm to his stomach effortlessly.

Daniel let go and immediately turned away, his attention still elsewhere.

Armand blinked. He flexed his fingers. The jolt in his stomach turned to a fire that spread throughout his body. His eyes fixed on the back of Daniel’s head. He could not process what Daniel and Louis said to one another. Daniel did not spare him another glance or another thought. It was a game! It had to be!

“Rashid,” Louis said and then repeated in a firmer tone, “Rashid.”

Armand blinked. He let the anger simmer. “Yes, sir.”

“Show our guest to his room,” Louis said and held Armand’s gaze a long moment.

Armand did not look away. “As you wish.” He picked up the bags and led the way through the penthouse. Daniel’s thoughts were as loud as ever hopping from food to Louis to the flight to the interview to the pandemic, and the interior of the penthouse. The distance between Armand and Daniel grew. Armand slowed his gait. Daniel’s arms did not move at his sides as he walked. Sometimes Daniel almost seemed to forget to blink. His thoughts continued, turning more towards jetlag and the interview than anything else.

“This is your room,” Armand said. He placed the bags inside near the bed neatly. “Do you require anything, Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel looked at him rather than through him this time. There was no flash of recognition. No twinge of memory. Not even a sign in Daniel’s mind of that ridiculous creature Daniel spoke of in his memoirs with the two toned eyebrows and hair dye instead of glowing orange eyes and brown contacts. Daniel nodded and said, “I don’t need anything.”

Armand opened his mouth and closed it. He needed to stay in character. “Of course,” he said and slipped from the room to escape deeper into the penthouse. The fire that once coursed through him quelled. There was no game. There was nothing. It was possibly worse than silence.

Armand slipped out onto one of the balconies. Clouds obscured and revealed the stars as they passed overhead. Armand stared at them until they blurred into a haze of red.

It was the spring of 1973. Orange eyes followed Daniel everywhere since leaving San Francisco. He traveled through the United States to Canada and on to Europe. His travels led him to Asia and his feet tonight led him to the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden in Tokyo. Thick heavy clouds covered the entire expanse of sky. It was after hours, but so far, Daniel had not encountered any guards or other trespassers. He slowed his walking and stared up at the cherry blossoms lit up on display. Their scent mingled with the threat of rain, and they fell to the ground with every pass of the breeze.

“Even on the run from a vampire you find time to admire vampires,” Armand said at Daniel’s side.

Daniel jumped. His heart beat in his ears. “Jesus!” He turned to face Armand.

Armand’s eyes did not glow, but his brown contacts caught the garden lights. “There’s no need to speak of Him right now.”

“I’m not…” Daniel took a few breaths and let his heart calm down. “I’m not really talking about Him.” He shifted his weight. This was his cue to escape once again, but his feet remained in the damp grass. He looked around them and then returned his attention to Armand. “The only vampire I see here is you.”

“Cherry trees are vampires.” Armand did not blink. His shoulders seemed almost too square. He smelled of blood and his skin was a pleasant, almost human shade of brown tonight. “They suck up blood at the roots. The more they suck, the deeper their color.” He leaned closer, his cool breath tickling Daniel’s ear as he spoke, “See that white one? It’s barely pink. It drinks like Louis thinks he does.” He paused and gestured to a tree with deep pink, almost red blossoms. “That one is like me. Full of blood.”

Daniel’s gaze did not leave Armand. He felt every whisper in his stomach. “Why the contacts?”

“Sometimes wolves know when to wear sheepskin,” Armand said.

“It’s nicer when you don’t,” Daniel said without thinking, but to his own surprise, he did mean it.

Armand stared at him unblinking. He removed the contacts and put them in a small container. His eyes glowed a deep orange.

Daniel smiled slowly. His heart beat a little faster, but it was different from when Armand startled him earlier. “And…the gloves. You should let your nails or claws or whatever they are breathe.”

The breeze rustled the trees and petals scattered. A hiss of rain drew closer. Armand stepped back. “The sun will rise soon.” He seemingly disappeared as the rain began to fall. Daniel lingered and then ran in the opposite direction, an almost emptiness blossoming in his chest.

It was only two days into the second interview. The sun disappeared and night overtook the sky but Louis was elsewhere in the tower and would not appear for a while. Daniel’s thoughts drew Armand out onto the balcony. Daniel stood beside a state of the art telescope; his glasses perched on his nose as he tried to discern what the controls meant and how to work the screen display. Armand noiselessly shut the door and walked deeper into the balcony. “Do you need assistance, Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel startled and he turned to face Armand. “Louis should put a bell around your neck.”

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac can always hear me.” Armand settled beside Daniel and began to work the controls of the telescope. Soon an image came up on the display of the clouds swirling across the sky, a planet peeking out between them every so often. Armand began to zoom.

“Which buttons are you using?” Daniel asked.

“These buttons.” Armand could feel the warmth radiating from Daniel’s body. Armand could take a step closer. He could come up with a ruse to touch Daniel. Yet, Armand’s body was much too cold and Rashid was much too aloof for such things. Armand kept his focus on the display. Once he adjusted the view, he stepped to the other side of the telescope so Daniel could see the display clearly.

Daniel zoomed in until Saturn’s rings faintly appeared whenever the clouds parted. His mind radiated curiosity. He snorted lightly. “Alice loved this kind of stuff. We’d stay up to all hours while she studied all the planets, any star, whatever caught her attention.” He smiled. “She always wanted to see things, know things. She’d find insects and slice them open to look under microscopes. She’d made these hideous concoctions in the blender.” He shook his head. “One time she woke me from a dead sleep, demanding I call some idiot in Paris for her. She was an absolute menace.”

Armand licked his lips. Sand and beach spread out from Daniel’s mind, interweaving with Armand’s own memory. They were alone, the water slowly flowing to shore, with a telescope pointed at the heavens. It was hot and humid and sweat drenched Daniel’s body. Armand zoomed in on the planets clustered together. “It’s hard to believe Jupiter is so large when it’s also so tiny.”

Daniel laughed and the ocean breeze ruffled his hair. He wiped the sweat from his brow on his tank top. He took a drag on his joint and watched the smoke spiral up into the air. “Maybe scientists are just fucking with us.”

The memory shifted to Daniel’s perspective, but instead of Armand operating the telescope, a woman with the same brown skin but the most garish eyebrows stood in his place. She seemingly had no face, but slowly eyes appeared and glowed a bright, deep orange. Just before her visage could turn into Armand, the memory faded all together.

Armand blinked and found himself back on the balcony in Dubai, away from Daniel’s thoughts. The breeze from the gulf pushed Armand’s hair from his face. He sighed long and low.

“I know Louis probably sent you out here, but you don’t have to stay,” Daniel said. He changed the position of the telescope and zoomed in on a different planet. Letting his hands manipulate the telescope helped ease the tremors.

“I do what is asked of me,” Armand said. “I don’t question it.”

“For someone who claims to worship their boss as a god, you sure are hate your job,” Daniel said. He found the power button and shut down the telescope.

“My job isn’t the only thing on my mind,” Armand said.

Daniel held his gaze, questions spinning through his mind. “What else is there? I’ve never been in a cult of personality before.”

Armand smiled. “If you don’t need anything else, I should procure Mr. de Pointe du Lac’s next meal.”

“I guess vampires wouldn’t have some kind of chef for that,” Daniel murmured. He nodded more to himself than Armand. “I need to get ready for tonight.” He retreated to his room.

Armand watched him go, unable to look away or blink. He licked his lips and then headed to the kitchens. There was so much more to do than just find Louis’ animal of the night.

It was midwinter in 1974. Daniel was not sure what possessed him to travel to Norway even for the view. The snow was ever-present and it was frigidly cold. His hotel was cheap but warm. He woke slowly, his eyes fluttering open as he became increasingly aware of a weight on the bed near his feet. Pages flipped rapidly. Daniel let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Armand sat at the foot of Daniel’s bed, The Boys of Summer by Roger Kahn in his hands. His glowing eyes scanned the words at an alarming rate. He finished the last pages and cast the book to the other side of the foot of the bed carelessly.

“Evening to you too,” Daniel murmured. He sat up and rubbed his face. Slowly his brain spun to life and he froze, peering through his fingers at Armand. Armand was in his room. Armand was on his bed. This was a first. Daniel made a mental note to stop getting high before bed. Although perhaps locks were irrelevant to vampires.

“Why did they put a building on the cover if it was about people?” Armand asked.

“The Dodgers played at Ebbets Field back when they were in Brooklyn,” Daniel said.

“But they leave that place half way through the book,” Armand said. He shook his head. “Illustrations should tell you what you’re going to read.”

Daniel sighed. He rolled out of bed. “Gotta piss,” he murmured and escaped to the bathroom. He took his time and splashed his face with cold water. He spoke with Armand plenty of times in plenty of places. This was no different but also very different. He ran a finger along the bite scar Louis gave him. Maybe Armand made up his mind. Daniel shaved in the off chance Armand decided to turn him. He returned to the room, finding the curtains open and Armand standing in the moonlight. It illuminated his skin, highlighting its discoloration from hunger.

Daniel could not look away. He licked his lips. “Did you decide how to kill me?”

Armand smiled. “You haven’t run away yet.”

“I’m not running until I see the lights.” Daniel started packing his bag. “Otherwise what was the point of freezing my ass off?” He reached for his coat and then stopped. A warm, beautiful black wool coat rested where he hung his threadbare jacket last night. “Whose…?”

“It’s yours,” Armand said. “Put it on.”

Daniel did so. When he put his hands in the pockets, he found gloves and money he did not have last night. He looked at Armand and then pulled his hands from the pockets.

“Let’s go,” Armand said. “I want to hunt.”

They entered the city. Armand disappeared from Daniel’s side. Daniel sighed. He chose a hotel close enough to the outskirts of the city that a short hike brought him well away from the city lights. Armand reappeared at Daniel’s side, his face a more human shade of brown now. They made their way out of the city until the northern lights overtook the sky.

Daniel’s breath condensed around him. Armand never once breathed. The lights shivered and spread across the sky, creating patterns and shapes that almost defied imagination.

Daniel inhaled snow and blood. He moved closer to Armand. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Temperatures mean nothing to my kind,” Armand said.

Daniel took one of Armand’s bare hands and pressed it between his gloved hands. Even through the fabric, Armand’s hand felt like ice. It slowly warmed under Daniel’s touch but never became as warm as it must have been in life. Daniel traced the curve of one of Armand’s nails with his finger. He looked up at Armand, finding Armand staring at him unblinking. Daniel’s eyes moved along the folds of Armand’s scarf to the shirts under his heavy coat. Daniel snorted and let go of Armand’s hand. “You wear a lot of layers for a guy who’s ambivalent to cold.”

Armand touched his warmer hand with his other hand, feeling the change in temperature before his skin could lose its borrowed warmth. “I like fashion.”

“You’re wearing bell bottoms,” Daniel said.

“I liked the color, so I ate the owner,” Armand said.

Daniel’s fingers ran along the lapel of his coat. He sniffed the fabric. It smelled faintly of blood. “Did you eat mine too?”

“How else does a vampire acquire clothing?” Armand asked.

Daniel’s fingers slipped away from the lapel. He did not remove the coat. It was much too cold for a moral dilemma.

When they returned to the city, Armand disappeared. Daniel sighed and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. He needed to move on so he could see Armand again.

It was early afternoon in Dubai hours before the fifth session of the interview. Armand noiselessly settled at the foot of Daniel’s bed while Daniel slept. He watched Daniel’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Armand counted each heartbeat, the inconsistent rhythm a steady warning. Fareed helped Armand devise a serum of diluted vampire blood to combat Daniel’s ailments, but it seemed as ineffective as the modern medicine supplied alongside it. How long until Daniel could no longer swallow? How long until Daniel stopped breathing? How long until Daniel’s heart decided to upset everything? How long until Daniel died?

A shiver ran through Armand. His jaw tightened. He should have objected more when Louis suggested the interview. He should have let Daniel languish in New York far away from Armand’s eyes and ears. Even then, Armand might have crossed that ocean. Even then, he might have spied on Daniel through the windows of Daniel’s home. Perhaps he always would have been perched on the foot of the bed watching Daniel sleeping right now.

Armand probed Daniel’s mind, finding the dreams shallow and distorted. Slowly a dream of a yellow room with too many chickens gave way to speeding through Paris on a scooter. Daniel clung to a man with no face. Armand could still remember driving that scooter, the breeze passing over them as they sped home. Armand’s memory replaced the dream in Daniel’s mind. Daniel’s body seemed to relax as the change dragged him deeper to sleep. It did not ease the tension in Armand’s shoulders.

When the memory faded, Daniel drew a ragged breath and then his eyes opened. He stared at Armand, still tired. Armand stared back at Daniel and did not blink.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?!” Daniel hissed as if whispering it would not alert Louis despite Daniel’s mind freaking out very loudly. Any vampire in Dubai could probably hear it.

“Whatever you want,” Armand said. “It’s your dream.” It was very much not a dream.

Daniel eyed him. He sat up slowly and flexed his hands several times to ease the tremors before putting on his glasses. “I’m not easily manipulated, Rashid. Dreams don’t hurt this much.”

“Of course it’s a dream.” Armand slowly pulled off his gloves, one finger at a time, and offered his hands towards Daniel.

Daniel ran the tip of his finger along one of Armand’s filed nails. His eyes shifted to Armand’s face. “But you’re not a vampire. Your eyes don’t glow.”

“Not in the waking world.” Armand leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Daniel’s hips and one of his knees between Daniel’s legs. “It’s a dream,” Armand repeated, allowing the Mind Gift to add weight to the statement. He leaned back on his legs and removed his contacts, lowering his gaze as he cast the case casually towards the foot of the bed. His raised his gaze to Daniel.

“You…” Daniel’s voice trailed. His heart rate increased. He held his breath and then swallowed. For a moment, several memories of Daniel admiring Armand’s eyes flashed through his mind.

Armand leaned forward and placed a kiss to the bite scar along Daniel’s neck, letting his lips linger. “Sleep, beloved,” he said quietly.

Daniel immediately laid down, dragging Armand with him. Armand placed his ear against Daniel’s chest and listened to his heart’s ominous beat. Armand would have to leave soon to prepare Daniel’s treatment, but he did not sit up and instead pressed a cold hand against Daniel’s warm skin until he almost could not feel a difference in their temperature. He peered into Daniel’s dreams, but there was nothing to see, Daniel’s sleep was too shallow.

Armand’s fingers curled and his nails almost nicked flesh. His jaw tightened. He slowly sat up and retrieved his disguise before slipping from the room.

It was the spring of 1974. Daniel walked through the ruins of Pompeii well after sunset. Everything was wet and chilly but the rain would not return for a few days. Despite roaming openly through the ruins, he had yet to meet a guard. This was his fourth day in Naples, the longest he spent somewhere since he began his game with Armand. He had enough money to leave, but he chose to stay.

The breeze died and the humidity climbed. Daniel meandered up a road that led to the top of a hill. Ruined buildings lined the dark streets. All light came from the full moon. Someone moaned from between the buildings. Daniel followed the noise and arrived just in time to watch Armand cast a dead body into the dark recesses of what once was a shop or perhaps a home. Blood dripped from his fangs. Armand licked away every last drop of blood and removed his contacts.

Daniel did not look away. His heart beat in his ears, but its beat was a steady throbbing, rather than errant, flighty beats.

Armand did not blink. Neither of them moved. There was no sign of anyone else in the ruins. “You’ve stopped running,” Armand said.

“I have,” Daniel said. “I’m done running. It’s up to you. Turn me, kill me, fuck me – whatever you want.”

Silence passed. Ghosts seemed to press down upon them. The moon continued to rise, spreading more light.

“Turn you? Kill you?” Armand shook his head. “Never.” In a blink of an eye, he crossed the distance between them. His gloved hands slid along Daniel’s face. “We’re well past that.”

Daniel leaned into the touch. He inhaled the smell of blood and death. His heart continued to pound like prom night. He reached up, removing Armand’s hands from his face so he could free them from the gloves. “I want you. I love you.” He dropped the gloves to the ground.

Armand moved even closer. Their torsos almost touched. His hands returned to Daniel’s face, his nails slid through Daniel’s hair. He grinned at Daniel’s shiver, his fangs catching the moonlight. “You beautiful, foolish boy. You are mine.”

“I am yours,” Daniel agreed. His breath caught when Armand bit him, his fangs sliding right into the mark Louis left years before, a fresh warning for other vampires. Daniel gripped Armand’s hips and closed his eyes, shuddering with each draw of blood. Daniel waited for his body to transform.

Armand drew back and his fangs seemed to retreat. He swallowed and used his nails to rip a vein along his own neck. “I’m not turning you either. Drink,” he said, “and we will never part.”

Daniel watched the blood ooze from the wound, sliding and pooling along Armand’s skin. It smelled more fragrant than blood should. Daniel could not help but lick it, finding it just as sweet and thick as he imagined and warmer than he anticipated. Daniel sucked from the wound until the blood clotted. A warmth filled Daniel from inside out, warmer than any alcohol. His mind seemed to buzz faster than any stimulant and his nerves calmed quicker than any opiate. He gasped for breath and drew Armand into a kiss, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Armand’s hands slipped under Daniel’s shirt. Daniel pulled Armand’s shirt over his head. The rest of their clothes followed. Daniel’s legs hit the top of an overturned stone. He pulled Armand down with him. They took each other on the stone of ghosts with the moon as their only witness.

It was a week into the second interview. Louis gave the signal, Armand revealed himself, and Louis proclaimed him the love of his life. Daniel stared at them for a long moment, his thoughts filling the air, loud and cacophonous before taking a step back and saying, “Fuck this.” His eyes shone sharp and true as they shifted between Armand and Louis. “And fuck you – both of you.” Anger bubbled up from within, projecting from Daniel like a radiant aura. He grabbed his things and shoved them into his bag as indiscriminately as a computer bag might allow.

“The intent was to deceive,” Louis said, “because I couldn’t trust myself without Armand present.”

“Then you should have just written him into the contract. ‘No third parties’ my ass.” Daniel tried to wrap his cord in a semblance of a circle. He gave up and shoved it into its pocket in his bag.

“But that’s not why you’re actually angry,” Louis said and his lips quirked into a small smirk.

Daniel shut his bag. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Louis asked. “It’s not Armand’s presence you’re mad about, it’s who he is.”

Daniel glanced at Armand briefly. His attention returned to Louis. He shouldered his bag. “I’m out. Keep your money.” He left for his room to get the rest of his things.

Armand said nothing and followed Daniel. He entered Daniel’s room noiselessly.

Daniel’s hands shook terribly. He stood over his unopened suitcase, flexing his hands, trying to encourage the tremors to ease, but more than just Parkinson’s drove the tremors. He glowered over at the doorway. “Out.”

“You know you couldn’t meet with him alone,” Armand said.

“You also said you wouldn’t save my life this time,” Daniel said. “Like I can even remember you saving me a first time.” He opened his suitcase. His clean clothes were inside and folded. He started adding things he took out for various reasons to the suitcase, his movements slow. “Probably because you did something to my memories.”

“I didn’t,” Armand said.

“Bullshit!” Daniel paused in his packing. “I started remembering some things. I remember you at the bar. I remember something about a locked room. You were the person driving that scooter in Paris. I got high, we drank each other’s blood…” his voice trailed. He looked at Armand. “Someone’s fucked with my memories. I really doubt it was the vampire with a guilty eating conscience. I want my real memories back.”

That made two of them. Armand’s gaze followed Daniel as Daniel retrieved the last things from the room. “I don’t know if I can fix them.”

Daniel stopped packing. He walked closer to Armand. “You took them. You can give them back.”

“What makes you think I took them?” Armand ran his thumb along the side of his opposite hand.

“Every memory I had of Alice is turning into a memory of you. You’ve got Louis locked up in some gray garden where he can’t even reach the books he claims to love. You guys say you’re here to keep Louis from doing something he’ll regret, but I wonder if you’re actually here to keep him from telling the truth.” Daniel did not look away.

“Louis tells the story he chose. I don’t have any sway in it,” Armand said. “When you went to rehab, you never returned! How could I steal all your memories if you left and never came back?!”

“You could have done it before I checked myself in!” Daniel said. “The only memories I have that feel real anymore are from before I met you and after rehab!”

“Do you think I wanted this?!” Armand’s fangs appeared. “Do you think I wanted you to look through me? To ignore me? To treat me like this?! I thought you would recognize me! I thought you’d take my gloves off and tell me you missed my eyes!”

Daniel paused. His gaze moved from the glowing eyes to the fangs to the long nails. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and growled in frustration. “Then why Alice? Why didn’t I remember you as you until two nights ago?!”

“I don’t know!” Armand moved about the room, unable to stay still. “Even when I peer inside, I can’t fix it! Fareed’s drugs can’t fix it! Nothing fixes it!”

Daniel rubbed his face. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm the tremors in his hands, but his whole body seemed to shake instead. “What have you even tried?! When did you try anything?! I think I’d remember Rashid sticking his hands on my face trying to manipulate my mind!”

Armand crossed the room before Daniel could even blink. He pressed his fingers to Daniel’s face. Daniel’s blood pumped under Armand’s fingers and warmed Armand’s skin slightly. “Stay still,” Armand hissed.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Daniel murmured, but he obeyed.

Fragments of memories filtered through Daniel’s mind. Armand tried to catch the pieces and match them to places, scenery, colors, incidents – anything. No matter what he found, no matter what he connected, nothing felt complete. Nothing felt whole. Even with Alice disappearing, Armand found himself faceless in Daniel’s mind. Armand’s fingers slid down Daniel’s face, one of his filed nails leaving a mark without drawing blood. Blood stung Armand’s eyes. He turned away and hissed, long and low.

Daniel frowned. His mind spun, projecting snippets of memory, questions, and thoughts. He sighed. “We can work on this. If I leave, then I get nothing. But, I swear if you two keep fucking with me, fuck my memories, I’m on a plane home.”

Armand wiped the blood from his eyes. He kept his back to Daniel. Daniel’s heart beat in his ears like a timer. He could heard Daniel unpacking. They only had a week before Daniel would pack for real.

It was late spring in 1979. Two years ago Daniel and Armand started living in Greenwich Village, making periodic trips abroad on Armand’s whims. They hopped from apartment to apartment, filling each with clothing, kitchen gadgets, slides of insects and other creatures sliced into different pieces, never to return once they left the city. Tonight was chilly and smog obscured the moon. Armand latched onto Daniel’s arm as they left the theater and began to sing the songs from Sweeny Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street. No one else on the sidewalk paid them much mind, too drugged, drunk, or busy to care. When the singing ended, Daniel looked over at Armand. “Was it really like that back then? Did they get the outfits right?”

“I don’t know.” Armand moved closer. “I don’t think about time like that. It’s too big, too tangled. I need a specific date.”

Daniel thought a long moment. “January 2, 1850. What happened? What was it like?”

Armand did not answer immediately. His contacts obscured his eyes and the whir of his mind. “I was in Paris. There was so much snow that some bridges stopped working. We put on a show and snatched the first family to enter the theater. We ate them in front of a full audience. A woman died in the front row of fright.”

“So you guys were eating people as a play back then too?” Daniel asked.

“Mortals love the macabre,” Armand said. “The actors could have really baked people into pies onstage tonight and the audience would have reacted with the same enthusiasm.”

Daniel frowned. Would he have noticed if the musical was really a snuff piece instead of pretend? Would he have noticed real cannibalism? The part of Armand’s arm not covered by glove or sleeve brushed Daniel’s skin. It enhanced how cold Armand felt at Daniel’s side. Daniel inhaled the faint smell of blood, death, and cologne. He swallowed and looked away, catching their reflections in a dark store window. Daniel blinked and slowed his pace. Armand slowed and looked at Daniel. Daniel’s gaze remained fixed on their reflections. Both of them did not look like teenagers. Both of them had no signs of wrinkles. They wore expensive clothing like some high-powered young professional couple on a night out after work. Daniel ran his tongue along his teeth. He could still remember looking at their reflections in other storefronts back when Armand looked noticeably older. If Daniel became a vampire now, they would look the same age forever.

“I will not.” Armand let go of Daniel’s arm and stepped away.

“I didn’t ask.” Daniel followed.

“You were thinking it,” Armand hissed a warning.

“Then stay out of my head if you don’t like hearing what I want,” Daniel hissed back.

“Your thoughts are too loud to ignore.” Armand’s pace quickened.

Daniel tried to catch up. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I want to be at your side like this forever. I want to be your equal. I don’t know why that’s such a bad thing.”

“Because it won’t be like this!” Armand turned to face him. “The Dark Gift is never like this! I won’t damn you! I won’t curse you! You’re beautiful! You’re human! Embrace that!”

Daniel’s heartrate increased with Armand’s intensity. He could almost see Armand’s eyes flash behind the brown contacts. He could almost see Armand’s fangs catch the streetlight. “You’re beautiful too, you know. There’s beauty in the undead.”

Armand eyed Daniel and then turned away from him. “I’m going to hunt. I’ll return before dawn.”

Before Daniel could say anything more, Armand disappeared into the shadows. Daniel peered into the dark corners of the night, but saw nothing. He ran a hand through his hair and took a detour to buy drugs before heading home.

It was the ninth day of the interview. Sunlight streamed into Daniel’s room. Armand’s eyes barely glowed in the bright light. He set a tray of water, medicine, and a syringe on the desk. Daniel watched him from the window, his body bathed in the sunlight. It was difficult for Armand to look away.

“I doubt you’re medically trained,” Daniel murmured.

“Fareed showed me how to do the injection.” Armand poured the water into the glass on the tray. He arranged the pills neatly on their china plate.

Daniel walked over. He took his pills slowly, almost choking towards the end. He put a hand on his chest and Armand gently hit him between the shoulders. It was firm enough to help. Daniel shut his eyes, took a few breaths, and then groaned quietly. “I’d say, ‘Never get old,’ but too late.”

“I’ll let Rashid know.” Armand checked the syringe. He could smell his diluted blood inside it even before he removed the sterile cap over the needle. “Fix your sleeve.”

Daniel pushed up his short sleeve. He did not flinch when Armand injected the blood serum into his muscle. “I’ve been dreaming about living in a mall. I don’t think I’m homeless in the dreams.”

“It was our home.” Armand set the used syringe back on the tray. “You owned it along with the island.”

Daniel lowered his sleeve and settled into a chair. “If I owned an island I wouldn’t have had to start college funds for my kids.”

“You still own it,” Armand said. “It wasn’t mine to sell.”

“Where is it?” Daniel watched Armand.

“Off the coast of Miami.” Armand stood in front of the desk.

Daniel stared at him a long moment. “Night Island? That abandoned tourist trap? That place my daughter almost died trying to parkour in college?”

“I don’t know its current state. I haven’t been there since you left.” Armand ran his thumb along his opposite hand.

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed together. He leaned forward and tried to think, tried to remember. Palm trees, night skies, fresh sea air, shouts and cries echoing through ample atriums projected from his mind punctuated by garbled synthesizer music. These thoughts gave way to advertisements for documentaries trying to probe how such a mall could shutter so quickly at the height of its popularity.

Armand stepped forward and rested his fingers on Daniel’s forehead, allowing his thumbs to rub small circles against his temples. He tried to encourage whatever memories he could find, no matter how small the fragment or distorted the image.

Daniel closed his eyes and did not move his head from Armand’s touch. Memories flowed from him in fleeting flashes. Orange eyes, warm nights, vicious fights, the cars that would collect them, the texture of the sheets of their bed. “Your hands are always cold. You always smell of blood.”

“You used to like it,” Armand said.

There was a long pause and an internal debate before Daniel spoke, “I still do.”

Armand let his fingers slide down and away from Daniel’s face. Daniel opened his eyes and gazed up at Armand. Even if his long-term memory was in pieces, his gaze was still strong, still curious, always thinking. Armand leaned down and Daniel’s mind projected doubt.

“You worry you’re not the boy I once loved,” Armand said, his breath against Daniel’s ear.

Daniel shivered and swallowed. “I know I’m not.”

“No one is who they used to be,” Armand said. His settled onto the chair, kneeling so he straddled Daniel’s lap.

Daniel’s gaze returned to Armand. “I’m soft and saggy. I’m not the kid you used to lead around naked by a leash.”

“You remember that?” Armand mouthed along Daniel’s neck, purposefully denying his teeth.

“Almost wish I didn’t.” Daniel shivered and his hands rested on Armand’s hips. His doubt faltered when Armand ran his teeth along his neck but did not bite just yet.

Armand bit Daniel’s ear, not using his fangs yet, feeling Daniel’s grip tighten. “You are mine, my beautiful foolish boy,” Armand said against his skin. “If your body could stop me, you would not be here.” He bit Daniel right on the bite mark, taking only a few sips, letting the mark fester anew as a sign to any vampire to stay away from Daniel.

Daniel moaned. When Armand kissed him, he returned it without hesitation. The kiss broke so Daniel could breathe. A second kiss became a third and a fourth. Clothes found their way to the floor. Blood oozed. The chair groaned in time with their motions. It sang with their moans. The sun continued to shine.

It was the summer of 1984. The grand finale of the fireworks display in Chicago finished erupting along Lake Michigan. The crowd of onlookers surrounding Daniel on Navy Pier began to disperse as the smoke began to fade. Daniel’s stomach rumbled. Gloved fingers pressed against his back with no warning or noise. Daniel felt tears come to his eyes but they did not fall. “Hey, boss,” he said very quietly.

“Tears after you insisted on leaving for good?” Armand asked. “Where’s your resolve? Perhaps I should have given you more time to find it.”

“I’m sorry.” Daniel wiped at his eyes. “I woke up that morning and flaked.”

“As you have five times already.” Armand’s cool breath tickled Daniel’s ear. “Are you going to again? Don’t you tire of it?”

Daniel shivered. “My beard’s turning gray. I’ve got these lines on my face. It’s too much.”

“Many would envy such things.” Armand’s hand remained firm at Daniel’s back, a tether, a chain. “You should not fear them.”

Daniel did not envy it at all. He sighed. “I can’t even string five words together anymore.” His jaw tightened. “I can’t remember the last time I turned in an article. I can’t remember the last time I got more than a page typed. I’m spinning my wheels.”

“Then write your articles on the computer,” Armand said. “Work when I sleep.”

“All I end up doing is hacking and pushing money around,” Daniel said. “I don’t want to do that for the rest of my life.”

Armand moved so they faced each other. His hands rested on Daniel’s hips. The crowd continued to thin. No one spared them a second look. He reached up and ran his fingers through Daniel’s hair. Daniel leaned into the touch. Blood, death, and a faint scent of cologne filled Daniel’s nose. His heart beat faster and he swallowed. Armand kissed his face, his lips cold, inviting. Daniel swallowed again. “I want to go home.” He was not sure where ‘home’ was but he knew Armand would at least return him to Night Island. That would have to do once again for now.

“Alright, beloved,” Armand’s hand grasped the back of Daniel’s neck, a gloved thumb caressing all it could touch. His fangs caught the light, a promise for later. “But if you run away for good again, I can’t promise I will find you.”

“Isn’t that our game?” Daniel asked.

“It was once,” Armand slowly released Daniel’s neck. He led the way to the waiting car. Daniel followed. Once inside, Armand allowed him a drink.

It was twelve days since the start of the second interview. There were no more diaries to read. The narration left post-war Paris and headed towards Louis and Armand’s reconciliation in the sixties. Armand sat in one of the chairs in the sitting room and edited a video on his iPad. Louis’ voice suddenly trailed mid-sentence. Armand glanced up and followed his gaze, becoming aware of an unsteady heartbeat gaining speed.

Daniel sat on the sofa. He leaned forward with his arms on his thighs. His head bowed, almost obscuring the flush across his cheeks. His chest worked for each breath. The insides of his arms were pink and almost splotchy, highlighting a series of inflamed nerves.

“Daniel,” Louis said, and repeated the name in a firmer voice.

Daniel’s gaze shifted from the floor to Louis. His eyes were far away. He swallowed and nodded. “Right. Right….” He glanced at the notes on his screen. His mind could not focus. His hands tremored more than normal. His face seemed to become redder. His brain repeated a question to himself that he could not seem to answer.

“We should end here for tonight,” Louis said.

Daniel did not object. He closed his laptop without much thought and started putting things in his interview bag. He coughed a few times, dry and hacking. Daniel bid them goodnight and headed to his room. Armand followed.

Daniel barely entered the room when he began to cough again. The bag slipped from his shoulder and he leaned against the corner of his desk. When the coughing spell ended, he seemed more exhausted than anything else. He glanced over at Armand. “What happened to privacy?”

“Can you balance if you let go of the desk?” Armand asked.

Daniel rolled his eyes and let go of the desk. He was unsteady on his feet, but he sat on the chair before he could fall. “I’m sick. It happens.”

Armand helped divest Daniel of his clothes. Daniel shivered with chills and got into bed without protest. He groaned as only a fever could muster. “I’ll be fine in the morning. You don’t have to hover.” He coughed again, still dry and hacking.

Armand glanced out the windows. It was still night and the sun would not rise for hours. He looked back at Daniel. Daniel’s eyes were closed and his breathing still rough as his mind ached for sleep. Armand pressed a finger to Daniel’s hot temple and eased him as deep to sleep as Armand dared. A weight settled in Armand’s stomach. How many plagues did Armand witness? How many people did he watch succumb to something as simple as a cough? How many faces turned blue? How many stared upwards with unblinking eyes when the end came? He could not remembered feeling such weight before in those crises. Even during the blood plague decades ago, Armand always found Daniel alive and without illness. This time….

Armand did not wish to finish the thought. He curled up on a chair and tapped the screen of his iPad back to life. He began to devour anything he could read on this new plague as he had when he first learned of Parkinson’s. Information conflicted. The governments of the world had things to gain. It was like any other plague but somehow less clear.

Daniel’s coughing grew more frequent as night became day and his mind quieted. Armand remained at his side.

It was the fall of 1985. “Hotel California” played on an endless loop in Daniel’s mind. Here he was yet again on the balcony of the penthouse on Night Island after vowing to leave and find a way to live as himself again. “Blue Monday” by New Order echoed from the open atriums below. Sometimes shouts and laughter drifted up to his ears. Daniel sighed and retreated into the penthouse. He returned three days ago. He already wanted to leave again. If he left, he would only return. He always returned for Armand, for his blood. The thought made Daniel’s stomach rumble.

He passed by a small table and then stopped. A white envelope sat upon it, his name written in strangely familiar script along with a stamp and postmark. Daniel looked around, but there was no one nearby and Armand still slept. He could not remember the last time he received anything by mail.

He carefully opened the envelope and read the letter. It was from the most legendary tomboy in his entire high school. Her handwriting looked almost the same as it did the last time they traded papers to grade them in class. Daniel slowly sat on the floor. He read the letter a second time. The first boy he ever kissed, the boy he might have run away from home for, had the boy not moved away, was dead. The tomboy was a nurse now and helped care for people suffering from AIDS. She thought Daniel might want to know about their classmate’s death.

Daniel heard of AIDS, but he had not paid attention. It was hard to focus and care about current events while trying to untangle himself from Armand and his vampire blood. Daniel stared at the letter until tears threatened. He averted his gaze to the ceiling for a long moment and then rose from the floor. He found the latest edition of the local newspaper, but it had no articles. All others newspapers he could find were the same. He was behind everyone. The world likely moved on years ago without a reason to care about a virus targeting mostly gay men. Daniel folded the letter, put it in his pocket, and headed for the ferry. When he reached the shore, he headed to the University of Miami’s medical library. The girl at the desk mistook him for a professor. He did not correct her.

He gained access to every newspaper and journal article he could find on microfiche. He took notes in a small notebook he always kept in his pocket after his recorder broke years ago. There was not enough information. He needed to go to New York or San Francisco. Even then, he was not sure how much information he could gain. The current administration appeared to be deliberately making everything worse on purpose. Daniel searched until his eyes crossed and his glasses hurt the bridge of his nose. The librarian told him the library would close soon. Daniel gathered his notes and stepped out into the warm Miami night. He stared up at the moon for a long moment. He had to break the cycle. He had to get away from Night Island for good. He had no more excuses.

Daniel looked down the sidewalk. Orange eyes watched him from a distance, drawing slowly closer. Armand never blinked. He stared at Daniel, blood drying on his chin. Daniel’s eyes fixed on the blood. He took a deep breath. “I’m going to check into the hospital.” He paused. “I’m leaving.”

Armand continued to draw closer, each movement deliberate, slow, and light. “So you can call crying to come home in a few weeks?”

Daniel licked his lips. His breath hitched and then he cleared his throat. He met Armand’s gaze. “Forever. You win. I’m going to live my life. I’m going to give up on immortality.”

“You can give up on immortality and stay with me,” Armand said. “Isn’t that what you want? To be at my side forever?”

“Not like this! I’m not a toy! I’m not a pet! Either make me your equal or let me go!” Daniel pointed at himself. “I’m thirty-fucking-three! I’m not a boy anymore! My best friend just died of fucking AIDS and I’m sitting on an island in the middle of Miami Bay like the world’s biggest asshole!”

Armand hissed. “If you leave, you’ll catch that blood plague! You’ll die of an overdose! What if you run so far I can’t find you in time?! Stay on the island!”

“Whether I stay on the island or die in a ditch, I’m going to die! That’s what humans do! We die!” Daniel said. “I could fall off the penthouse balcony drunk off my ass and die tomorrow!”

Blood gathered along the corners of Armand’s eyes and threatened to fall down his face.

“Don’t,” Daniel said. “I mean it. I’m going to go to rehab. I’m going to forget how to drink your blood. I’m going to stay sober this time. I’m going to kick the government’s ass. You’ll turn on the television someday and they’ll be thanking me for this.”

“Then… Then go!” Blood trailed down Armand’s face. “Live your life and when you die, don’t expect me to appear!”

Daniel felt that hitch in his chest again. He hesitated and then he remembered the letter and the articles he read. “Hotel California” threatened to start playing in his mind again. He licked his lips. “Goodbye, Armand.” He slowly retreated down the sidewalk, heading for the main hospital entrance. When he looked over his shoulder, orange eyes glowed in the shadows, following his every move until Daniel disappeared into the building. As he stepped through the doors, he began concocting a story to tell about an ex-wife with eccentric tendencies and no mention of vampires at all.

It was seventeen days since the second interview began. It was five days since the interview stopped. Armand transformed Daniel’s room in Dubai into a hospital room. Daniel lay on his stomach in a hospital bed. Fareed’s trusted associates tended to him and machines monitored his condition. A ventilator sent a rhythmic hiss into the room every time it repeated its cycle. Louis said the sound was inescapable in other parts of the penthouse and the tower. Armand did not know. He had not left Daniel’s room since this began.

“Vampire blood, like all other treatments, is too experimental to know its success rate,” Fareed said as he finished checking Daniel’s progress. “He should be at Medeor.”

“Can we even move him now?” Louis asked.

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Fareed said. “You should have sent him there when the symptoms first developed.”

Armand heard their words but said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on Daniel. Daniel’s heart pounded in his ears. Each cough seemingly rattled his mind.

Time passed and grew irrelevant. Armand did not dare leave the room. He ate what victims Louis brought him. When Armand dared to sleep, he took Daniel’s hand. The sun spread across the room and retreated as it cycled. The machined continued to sound.

One night, the waning moon climbed into the sky. There was no one else but Armand and Daniel in the room. The machines sang their noises and then Daniel stopped breathing. It was only for a second. The cadence of his heart changed with it. Armand straightened and peered into Daniel’s dreams.

Everything was a bright, deep, dark red. The dream oozed almost into a puddle at Armand’s feet. Daniel stood motionless in the center, staring at the deterioration in an almost daze, his concept of himself varying widely. Sometimes Daniel was in his seventies, sometimes he was in his thirties, sometimes he was a child, and all ages in-between sometimes simultaneously. He looked to Armand with ever changing eyes and then his mouths formed the first syllable of, “Goodbye.”

Armand fled the dream. He loomed over Daniel as the monitors began to shriek. He ripped Daniel from their grasp and drew him into his lap before sinking his fangs into the bite scar. Armand drank until only enough blood remained.

Daniel’s body began to convulse as transformation overtook it. His hand reached up to remove the ventilation mask. Armand stripped it away and barely registered Fareed’s team arriving only to immediately leave upon understanding what happened.

Daniel’s eyes fluttered open, shades of purple and amethyst overtaking blue. He gazed up at Armand and rasped, “What did you do?”

“You know what I did,” Armand said. “You can smell it. You can feel it. You can hear it.” Blood slid down Armand’s cheeks. He could not look away from his creation.

Daniel slowly sat up. Armand continued to hold him. The hand that wiped Armand’s tears continued to lose all its warmth and shook almost imperceptibly. Like Louis’ depression, vampire blood could not fully heal problems of the brain. Silence permeated the room. It echoed through Armand’s body as his tears slowly subsided.

The End

#my fanfics #my fanfics 2023 #my iwtv amc fanfics #interview with the vampire amc #devil's minion

2 notes · View notes