Vampire Gifts

Finding that Special Someone

                       Note: for the purpose of this story, Lestat is not in love with Rowan Mayfair.                                                                                                        Lestat's POV

    I awoke that night in my flat in the Rue Royale alone. Though Louis and David frequently lived with me here, I often woke in such a way: alone.

    You see, vampires may love each other, as I love Louis as well as David, both being my fledglings, but yet we cannot stand to be in each other's company for too long. Many, in fact, enjoyed being alone, such as my mother Gabrielle. But on this particular night, I could not stand being alone. The feeling left me feeling empty, incomplete. I yerned for someone else, a new companion who would share my company without tiring of it.

    As I slid the lid off my coffin, I found myself wanting a change of scenery. New Orleans is, and always will be, my home, but I wanted someplace different. I briefly considered Night Island, though it was unlikely anyone would be there, just because of the abundance of people shopping in all of the expensive stores, and I could play the common-man again, as I often do. I could shop among them and they would never guess that they were so close to Death himself. But that, I'm afraid, would leave me more lonely than I am now. Playing mortal is a sad substitution for the company of a mortal. And my room, which looked so much as it did when Louis, Claudia, and I lived in it, had become almost too familiar.

    I came out of my coffin, looking about my room with the red velvet sheeted and canopyed bed, the desk against the wall, and made the decision: I would travel somewhere else. I walked out onto my balcony and rose above my flat towards the sky. The wind blew about my blonde curly hair but other than that, it had no effect on me. I just flew, unaware of the wind, or the temperature.

    I finally reached my destination: New York. The city that never sleeps, it was perfect. Up this high, the speeding cars looked tiny, their headlights making them easy to track. Deciding not to go straight to the city, but rather find a place to sleep outside the city, I flew away from the bright lights, to where the whole town appeared to be pitch black. Slowly descending into a forest, I noticed that there were still people walking the trails. There was a trail almost directly in front of me, paved for walking or bike riding. Lamps were already on, despite the fact that the night was still young, and joggers passed by often. I stood by and watched, enjoying the feeling of watching others when they have no clue you are there. It is like when you stand in the doorway of someone's room, and you catch them doing something embarrassing because they thought they were alone. You get to see how people really want to act.

    A young girl passed by on the trail, no older than 14, looking quite confused. She looked left and right, nervously pushing aside her dark red hair, and picked a dirt trail that lead away from the one she was on. I followed her for a minute, then realized she was not alone. A couple yards away, I heard the beating of a heart, a man was hiding in the shadows. I easily crept behind the man, covering the man's mouth with my hand, and waited until the girl passed by, hoping she did not encounter anyone else on her travels. The man, getting over the shock of being held by a stranger, started to kick and thrash about, but I held him in my powerful grip. I sunk my teeth into his neck. His heart beat wildly, pumping blood out of the gash now on his neck, and I heard the loud beat of his heart over my swoon. A moment later he was dead. I used a bit of my blood to heal the wound, leaving no evidence of my presence, and laid him down on the damp forest floor. Now warm and no dout colored by the blood I made my way back to the trails. I don't need to feed anymore, nor do the other vampires as powerful as I, but like the others, I enjoy it. But I always kill the evildoer, as do the others, for, if you kill the innocent, you will soon drive yourself mad.

    When I was back where I was, hidden mostly by the trees, I saw another young girl, this one about the age of 24. She walked casually onto the path with confidence, obviously familiar with the paths. Her hair, dark blond and straight, fell over her shoulders and her plain purple tee-shirt. She hesitated slightly, looking scared for a moment, and looked straight at me. My excitement flared. Then she walked on, her confidence restored.

    That was when I decided to get to know Rose Taylor.