Prince Lestat (The Vampire Chronicles 11)

"They agreed that whatever they discovered on our behalf, they must never seek to interfere with human life in this world. That no matter what they achieved for us, they must never offer it to the human world. There might come a time, Maharet said, when a science of the vampires would be their greatest defense against persecution, but that time was in the remote future, and likely might never come at all. The human world must be respected. They agreed on all that. Fareed said he had no ambitions anymore in the realm of human beings, that we were his people. He called us that, his people."

"Benji would love him," I remarked. But I was hugely relieved to hear all this. More relieved than I could say.

"Yes," Jesse said sadly. "Surely Benji would. Fareed had a way of referring to us as 'the people' and the 'Blood People' and 'the People in the Blood.' "

"Our people, our tribe," I said, echoing Benji.

"So what did happen, dearest," asked David, "to make you all abandon the old compound?"

"Well, it was like this. Seth told Maharet of other ancient ones. He told her what I'm sure won't surprise anyone here, that there were ancient ones everywhere who'd survived Akasha's Time of Burning, who'd observed it but never feared it. And then he told her of ancient ones roused by it as he'd been. Seth had been in the earth for a thousand years when he heard your music, Lestat, and when he heard his mother's voice answering yours. Seth said that Maharet was not aware of how much Lestat's rock music and the Mother's rise had changed the vampiric world. She had no inkling of how these events had not only awakened old ones, but brought others to a global consciousness."

"Mon Dieu, a global consciousness," I said. "So I'm going to be blamed one way or another for everything?"

"Well, that may be the least important aspect of all this," David said, reaching out and taking my hand. "Whether you're blamed or not isn't the point, is it? Please, stop being the Brat Prince for five minutes, and let's listen to Jesse."

"Yes, Professor," I said. "Don't I always end up listening?"

"Not enough, I would say." He sighed and looked back to Jesse.

"Well, Maharet wanted to find one of these ancient ones--not one newly risen but one especially wise in Seth's estimation, and that was a blood drinker living now in Switzerland on the shores of Lake Geneva, a being with a powerful footprint in the human world. He'd maintained something of a vampire family since late antiquity. In fact, the vampire Flavius was the trusted friend and follower of this ancient one."

"What name does he use with us?" I asked.

"She never told me precisely," said Jesse. "But I do know his vast wealth is associated with pharmaceutical corporations and investments. I remember Seth saying as much. To continue, she went off to Switzerland to find him. She called me often while she was there."

"By phone?"

"She's never been a stranger to phones, computers, mobiles, whatever," said Jesse. "Remember she was my aunt Maharet in the world before I ever knew her true secret. She was the mentor of the Great Family for centuries. She's always functioned well in the world."

I nodded.

"Turns out she loved this ancient one in Geneva, loved the life he'd built for himself and for those under his care. She did not reveal herself to him. She was spying upon him, through the minds of his loved ones. But she loved him. When she called me, she wouldn't disclose his name or location by phone for obvious reasons, but all her reports were jubilant. This blood drinker had been brought over by Akasha to fight rebels like Maharet and Mekare and Khayman. Where they were called the First Brood, this vampire had been the Captain of the Queens Blood. But none of the old hatred mattered anymore to her, or so she said. And several times over the phone she told me that observing this creature had taught her all sorts of things,

that his enthusiasm for life was contagious. I assumed all this was good for her."

I could see David knew nothing of this being either and he was fascinated.

"And this is only one of a number of immortals of which we don't know?" he asked gently.

Jesse nodded. "She said further that this Geneva blood drinker was tragically in love with Lestat." She looked at me. "In love with your music, your writings, your musings--tragically convinced that if he could talk with you about all the ideas in his head, he would find a soul mate in you. Apparently, he loves his devoted family of blood drinkers--but they tire of his relentless passion for life and his endless speculations on the tribe and the changes we experience. He feels you'd understand him. She never said whether she agreed with him on that or not. She wanted to approach the being. She was strongly considering it. It seemed to me that she wanted to bring you all together with him at some point. But she left without approaching him. And what she had wanted, well, all this soon changed."

"So what happened? Why didn't she do this?" I pressed. I'd never doubted that Maharet could find me wherever I was. I figured this great and powerful blood drinker in Geneva could find me too. I mean I'm not all that hard to find, really.

"Oh, yes, you are," Jesse said in answer to my thoughts. "You're very well hidden."

"Well, so what!"

"But back to the story, please," said David.

"It's what happened at the compound while she was gone," said Jesse. "I'd remained behind with Khayman and Mekare, and several young blood drinkers who'd been studying in the archives. I'm not sure who these young ones were. Maharet had brought them there before leaving, and all I knew was that she had approved of each of them and given them access to the old records. Well, Khayman and I shared the responsibility of maintaining the hearth, as you might say. And for two nights I went into Jakarta to hunt and left things to Khayman.

"When I came back, I discovered that half the compound had been burnt down, some of the young ones--maybe all of them--had obviously been immolated, and Khayman was in a state of confusion. Maharet had also returned. Some instinct had told her to return. The devastation was horrific. Many of the screened courtyards were burnt out, and some of the libraries burnt to the ground. Old scrolls, tablets, had been lost, but the truly hideous sight was the remains of those who'd apparently been burnt to death."

"Who were they?" I demanded.

"I honestly don't know," Jesse said. "Maharet never told me."

"But hadn't you met these young blood drinkers?" I pushed. "Surely you remember something about them."