Down below

Chapter 34. xxx

>>>TW: blood, violence, drug use, pole-dancing<<<

Lestat woke up a little before sunset. He didn't open the lid of his coffin straight away; he cocked his ear, listening. Thankfully he was alone in the house. He let out a relieved sigh and got up. This became his ritual during the past week and he managed to evade Loki for most of the time apart from those occasions when he was too tired to care - that guy kept impossible hours, arriving just before sunrise. Lestat had a few surreal conversations with him and didn't know what to think. Stoned Loki wasn't bad company at all: he was relaxed without that hostile, arrogant edge, yet still had the ability to crawl under his skin. Few days ago, Lestat was walking through the hallway, when Loki called his name as he passed the living room; he didn't answer, so he caught up with him.

'I can see your age is starting to affect your hearing.' Loki jested.

'Not in the mood.'

'For being civil? I can see that. I just wanted to show you something.'

Lestat stopped, too suddenly that made the movement unnatural. He spotted a book in Loki's hands. It was The Tale of The Body Thief. Lestat looked at the God of Mischief who could barely hide his grin.

'Is this really about you or is it all just fiction?'

'I leave that to your imagination.'

'I have to know.' Loki said, grabbing his arm and Lestat saw from the way his pupils were dilated, that he was high on something again.

'I don't have time for this.'

'On the contrary, all you have is time. You will never die.'

'Which means I developed a very low tolerance for inane conversations such as this.'

'I want you to teach me. It seems you mastered astral projection and mind control.'

'You can barely use your magic without exhausting yourself.' he hissed and pushed his hand off his arm. 'Do me a favour and go back to that decadent, soul-numbing lifestyle of yours. It suits you better than mocking me.'

'I'm not mocking you. If this book is based on any semblance of truth, you are more powerful than I ever imagined.'

'Your opinion means nothing to me. Now, if you excuse me...' Lestat left so fast, it seemed like he vanished into thin air.

'And here I wanted to ask for your autograph!' Loki yelled after him and burst out laughing which for some reason bothered Lestat more than it should have.

He shooed away this memory as he stepped into the nice, spacious bath tub, filled with hot water and oils, enjoying the warmth against his cold skin. He didn't need blood anymore to survive, but he could feel the bloodlust crackling in his cells. It was getting more demanding by the minute. He knew where to quench his thirst and he also knew with whom. There was a new player on the scene, a property developer/owner, expanding rapidly in New Orleans. He had a dubious past, but he had enough money to wash away his sins. He liked to drug and violate young men and keep them quiet with the videos recorded on his mobile phone. Sometimes he groomed them with promises of moving up in the world or a job offer, sometimes he just picked them up in one of his clubs. Oh, he was magnificently crooked and appetizingly depraved. With 6'3", Victor 'Vex' Lobanov was slightly taller than Lestat, more robust, full of muscle and sinew. He kept sending offers to his American lawyer to buy Lestat's house on the Rue Royale and he was getting too cheeky. Two days ago, someone forced said lawyer off the road and Lestat knew it was Vex. He was going to die a slow, agonizing death that will seem like a sex game going awry.