Belle Vie

Divine Ritual

As New Orleans yielded to the night, so too did the vampire; Lestat, Celeste and the ancient vampire Marius following closely behind, as they stalked the city in search of their prey. Though the blonde immortal did not stray from the path ahead, his violet eyes fixated on the woman by his side; his gaze holding her when his arms could not.

The exhilaration in his heart at her immortal state was further intensified at the thought of them sharing the hunt, her sapphires searching through the passing mortals. 'Can you read their thoughts, mon coeur?' He queried, to which Celeste's head shook slightly. Slightly taken aback, Lestat softly pressed, 'Would you like me to find an evil doer for you?'

Before Celeste could respond, another voice cut through the vampire's mind, 'She is not a child, Lestat.' Marius' defence was unwarranted, as Celeste held her glare and, in turn, her tongue. Before she could come to her beloved's defence, however, her gaze fixated onto an alley, her path diverted.

Lestat followed, the ancient vampire diverting to a different path, finally allowing momentary solace for the couple. Celeste was fast, the immortal swiftly realised; the ebony of her dress disappearing beyond a corner. A swift gust of wind indicated an attack; but when Lestat rounded the corner and laid eyes on the woman expecting to discover a bloodbath, he instead found her with her hand covering a beggar's mouth as she had him pinned to the wall.

"Do not scream," her voice took on a compelling tone, forcing the mortal into submission. Lestat froze, watching her with unrelenting fascination. Teeth sharpened, settling upon the flesh of the beggar's wrist. Effortlessly puncturing, warm blood spilled into her mouth, Lestat watching her feast with more control than he had ever seen.

Un Petit Coup was a ritual saved for those a vampire loved too much to kill. Even the strongest, oldest vampires would struggle to commit such a feat. And yet Celeste Toussaint, new to the blood, withdrew from the mortal with ease. The artery had not been severed, the blood loss slight; therefore survival was highly likely.

"An animal bite, nothing more," she soothed, lulling the human into a deep slumber. Her next instructions, however, were firm, as she dropped a bagful of coins onto the man's lap, "Remember nothing."

Celeste supported the man's head as he turned limp, her respect for human life utterly disarming Lestat; yet her change in appearance astounded him more. Her sapphires glowed with radiance and life, mortal blood pooled in her cheeks as though she had drank enough to sustain a vampire for a month. 'And yet, she had taken so little.'

Lestat was confounded and mesmerised concurrently, as the brunette beauty rose from her place and began walking towards him. Almost instinctively, the immortal reached into his blazer and produced a handkerchief, wiping the smallest droplet of blood from her crimson lips.

"I love you," the words rolled from Lestat's French tongue indisputably, the woman's eyes glazing with crimson tears, her stomach fluttering with mortal tendency, "I love you too, Lestat."

The vampire did not hesitate, nor take a moment to ponder his next words, "Be mine, Celeste. For an eternity."

Celeste could have leapt at the opportunity, but the questioning lingered, "What about Louis? And Claudia?"

Lestat appeared utterly perplexed, "If you and I were the last of our kind on earth, I would be the happiest creature alive. Marr-" before Lestat could conclude his profession of love, a Parisian voice cut him off mid-stead.