Chapter Text
Lestat stares down unseeingly at the wooden plank laying below him, pressing his fingers to the nonexistent keys like a puppet on a string. It’s been his routine for quite a while now, and now he can do it without even thinking.
The speakers continue to play the music as he plays, practicing for his big break. He needs to be perfect if he wants to be as good as Argerich. He needs to be perfect.
He is interrupted from his mindless playing when he notices a rat crawling from the side of his eye, and he tracks it hungrily, feeling his teeth start to come into view. Before he knows it, he has grabbed it and sunk his teeth into its flesh, and his eyes roll back as he savors the taste. It’s not that good, not really, but he hasn’t eaten in a while so it tastes divine to his malnourished mind. As he drains the last few drops, his heart stutters and then restarts, albeit at a faster pace, when he hears that voice.
“How the mighty fall,” she croons from behind him.
Swallowing, he forces his limbs to turn him around so he can see what she’s wearing this time. Today, it’s what she was wearing the first time she beat him at chess, and her hair is ever radiant as she stands there, staring at him with eyes glowing knowingly. He doesn’t know what to say. He never does when she appears, so he says nothing.
Her head tilts like it usually does when she’s about to say something particularly scathing, and her voice becomes mocking, a trait she shares with her late father. “You look small, Uncle Les. Not eating enough lately? If you want, I’m sure there’s more rats crawling around here.” She looks around at the rundown shack they are in, her eyes sharp. “Still haven’t renovated around here? You used to hate living in a dump…”
“Why are you here?” He finally says, but his voice comes out wrong. It’s hoarse and meek, not at all the demanding way he wanted it to sound.
Claudia’s eyes find him again, and her face is unreadable but her voice, her voice is off when she says candidly, “Well, I thought I should warn you.”
Lestat narrows his eyes, but doesn’t react much beyond that. “What?”
“You know, I never did believe that story you told us back then. Daddy Lou ate it up like pie, but I wasn’t blinded by love like he was. Love always did make him stupid,” Claudia says, rolling her eyes.
Lestat’s heart pangs at the mention of Louis, but he forces himself to ignore that and focus on making her go away. “Why are you here?” he asks again, voice growing louder with his increasing terror.
Claudia ignores him as she continues, “But I think there might’ve been some truth in it now. You oughta’ be careful Uncle Les. Those skeletons in your closet aren’t just in your head anymore.”
“You’re in my head!” Lestat shouts. “You are the skeleton!”
Claudia tuts, giving him a pitying look. “Those skeletons make me look like a fucking angel.”
Lestat grabs at his hair, pulling desperately, pulling until he feels strands come straight out of his head and into his shaking hands. “Just go away,” he pleads as he bends over, clutching at his head. “I’ve had enough of the games.”
“You’re fucked,” Claudia says, laughing.
“Fucked in the head,” Lestat whispers to himself. When he finally manages to look up again, Claudia is gone.
He stares at the area where she was just standing, and that anger suddenly possesses him. He grabs the wooden plank and hurls it towards the wall, cursing to himself. He curses his weakness for letting his family die. Because of his own stupidity, he is alone. He will always be alone.
Tired beyond belief, he stands up and feels a rush of dizziness hit him. He has no idea how he even managed to lift that plank, let alone throw it, but it has drained his last amount of energy. He sluggishly makes his way into his bedroom, which is really just an empty room that is as dilapidated as the rest of his house is. The only thing in the room is his coffin, since that’s the only thing he needs. In this new era, he has embraced minimalism, as the millennials would call it.
He undresses, letting his clothes fall to the floor. Kicking them away, he makes his way towards his coffin, where he practically collapses. He closes his eyes, curls up into himself as much as he can, and falls into a fitful sleep.
When he wakes up, he feels someone breathing on his neck, and hands crawling down his body, squeezing, touching, caressing. He feels a kiss to his shoulder and he gasps, because it has been so long since he has been touched in this way. Could it be?
“Louis,” Lestat whispers, tears filling his eyes. “You’ve come back to me again.”
Louis is Lestat’s only hallucination that he welcomes with open arms. The rest of them however…
“You feel cold, Les. Haven’t you been eating?” Louis whispers into his ear.
“My love…” Lestat sobs, his heart panging at Louis’s gentle question. Even when he doesn’t deserve it, Louis still treats him with kindness.
Dream Louis slowly climbs on top of him, and Lestat opens up for him like a flower, as Louis settles in between his open legs. Louis’s smile is kind and his eyes are adoring as he whispers, “Beautiful…”
Lestat could die here and be happy. Because somehow, despite it all, Louis still finds him beautiful. Louis grabs onto his legs as he slips forward, undressed because he was never dressed in the first place. Even though he knows Louis is not really here, he still finds comfort in the heat of his hands and the feel of the other man’s body against his. It is a welcome comfort in these trying times.
Louis doesn’t bother with preparation, something unusual for him, but Lestat doesn’t say anything. He longs to really feel Louis anyway.
But as Louis slips inside him, instead of overwhelming pleasure, Lestat feels like something terrible has made its way into his body. He cries out, confused. It hurts terribly, that’s the first thing and sure he expected that due to their lack of preparation, but beyond that it feels like he’s been invaded in a way he hasn’t felt since…
“ Wolfkiller,” he hears and Lestat’s mouth opens but he can’t even scream as he opens his eyes and sees that long stringy black and the eyes, oh Christ help him, the eyes. They stare down at him hungrily, as they grow wider and wider and—
Lestat immediately tries to fight him, but Magnus is stronger than him, he always has been, and Lestat screams as he feels that disgusting organ moving inside him, dragging and piercing and hurting. Magnus grabs his arms and forcefully puts them above his head as he gives him a perverted smile. “You haven’t changed, Wolfkiller. You’re as tight as you were since I first carved you out!”
Lestat’s bloody tears flow like a faucet from his eyes, as he stares up at the horror above him. How? How can it be? How could he be so fucked up that his mind conjured up this monster to make him relive the day he lost it all. Was Louis just his mind’s trick to ease him in and then completely take him by surprise? Lestat’s never been to hell, but he’s sure that this is it. He lets out a wounded sob as Magnus fucks into him, grunting and never breaking eye contact. Lestat can’t even look away himself, too paralyzed with shock at the very personification of his worst fears fucking into him like he’s a sex toy.
Magnus’s teeth come into view, and now Lestat really screams now, louder than he ever has, as he comes to realize what is about to happen. Magnus seems to like that, since he grins, a very demented grin it is, and gives Lestat a fond look that makes him want to set himself on fire. “Let me see how much sweeter you’ve become, dear Wolfkiller.”
He’s never had to breathe before, but suddenly Lestat feels like he’s hyperventilating as his mouth opens and closes desperately, his airways contracting, as he fights against Magnus’s hold. Magnus doesn’t even seem to feel it, smiling that horrible smile as he watches Lestat struggle like a parent watching their child do something particularly endearing. Realizing it is futile, Lestat resorts to what he normally does when he is in extreme fear. He lashes out, baring his teeth at Magnus as he hurls curses at him. “You’re not real, you’re not fucking real—”
Magnus smiles, and Lestat watches as his face contorts and then his maker bends down, biting into his neck, remaking him anew. As Magnus drains the blood from him, groaning in pleasure, Lestat is no longer Lestat. He’s just the thing Magnus has created, created a second time, and just as macabre.
As if reading his thoughts, Magnus pulls away, licking at his lips and says, “Do you see? I am your maker. I made you with my body and my blood and you are mine. You will always be mine.”
Lestat can’t take in those words. He can’t even lift his head. He just lies there, blue eyes dim and half-lidded and overwhelmingly empty as Magnus starts to fuck into him again. When he feels the man’s cock hit his prostate, it feels like a knife has pierced him. It’s horrible, it hurts, but Lestat hates it because amidst the overwhelming disgust he feels, he also feels pleasure and he can’t control it as his body jolts and he comes.
Magnus gives a mocking chuckle at the sight, and Lestat wishes that he had died back then, when Louis had cut his throat and Claudia had written with his blood.
Even though he has come, Magnus doesn’t care and continues fucking into him, chasing his own peak. Now, instead of the few bouts of pleasure he was receiving, it just hurts. So much so that it reinstills his will to fight, to escape this pain that’s beyond anything he’s ever felt before. He pushes against Magnus, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall as a mortal. Useless. So, Lestat wails as Magnus thrusts into him once, twice, and then—
There’s heat filling him up, and Magnus bends down and kisses him, and Lestat bites, he bites as hard as he can, but when he feels the taste of Magnus’s blood on his tongue, he retches and Magnus pulls away and watches as Lestat vomits blood onto the velvet material of the coffin they are in. With blood from his eyes and his mouth staining his face, Lestat lets out a sound of agony as Magnus finally pulls out, and collapses on top of him. Magnus hushes him and wipes at his tears, but Lestat can’t feel it. He’s nothing but a throbbing organ now, crying for all that is lost.
“Hush now, Wolfkiller. You are no longer alone. I am with you now,” Magnus croons into his ear.
These words fill Lestat with terror so poignant, that it feels like he’s breathing it in. He slowly starts to shake his head, hoping, hoping, somehow still hoping despite the world showing him that hope is pointless to have, because disappointment is all there is for Lestat. Still, because he never learns, Lestat whispers, “ You aren’t real.”
Magnus is silent for a moment, but then he speaks again and his words are the straw breaking the camel’s back for Lestat. “I told you to scatter the ashes.”
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
“I did. I did scatter them. I did scatter them,” Lestat pleads to whoever above will listen. His eyes are wide and haunted, and his shaking so intensely that he can feel his teeth chattering. Because he did scatter them. How could he not have scattered them?
But God deserted Lestat long ago. So when Magnus wraps his lanky arms around Lestat, all he can hear is a ringing in his ears and a pounding in his head as he opens his mouth and screams because that’s all he can do. His screams break off into painful sobs as he cries into the damp coffin, where blood has soaked into. He feels Magnus kissing at the back of his neck, a mocking reminder of when Louis had done so, and it all just fades away as exhaustion forces him into darkness.
When he comes to, he is alone in the coffin. His wounds have healed, although there is still a dull pain where Magnus had entered him. And the black hole where Magnus had taken his heart when he remade him, feels ever heavy like it wants to suck Lestat into it so he can disappear into nothing. Lestat wishes such a thing was possible.
Breathing heavily, he lifts the coffin lid and steps out, observing the room anxiously. It looks the same as it did last night, before he had gotten into the coffin. Could it be that it really was just his mind playing tricks on him? Lestat agonizes over this for a moment, and then lets out a terrified laugh. Of course it was. That’s all it was, a figment of his imagination, like Claudia, and Louis, and Gabrielle.
He’s relieved now, as he steps out of the room and into his bathroom. He feels exposed in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, and he is suddenly aware of his body. He is dirty, dirty beyond belief and he needs a bath. For some reason, despite the fact that he hasn’t bathed in so long, he needs one right now. He needs to wash away the memories of yesterday. So, feeling his skin itch, he moves a shaky hand to turn on the faucet of the bathtub. When he turns it however, nothing comes out.
Panicking, Lestat tries again. And again. But the water never comes. He’s forgotten to pay the water bill again. Standing up from where he was on his knees, trying to turn on the faucet, he feels disbelief and then sadness. He can’t even wash away the feeling of Magnus now, because there is no water to do so. Not able to do much else, he goes back into the bedroom and picks up the clothes that he had tossed onto the floor the day before. He pulls them on and clutches the robe around him like a shield. Even with it on, he feels naked. Shakily, he makes his way into the living area, and nearly loses it when he notices the other figure in the room.
It’s Felix. He’s smoking a cigarette and when he notices Lestat he tosses the bag of rats he was holding onto the floor in front of him. Felix gives him a curious look as he breathes out smoke. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you not sitting in front of that wooden plank,” he remarks.
Lestat just stares at him, clutching his arms around himself as if to hide. Felix eyes him warily, taking a step closer but pausing when he notices Lestat step back, his blue eyes wide and his closed mouth shuddering. “You good?” Felix asks, nervously.
Regaining his wits, Lestat swallows and then narrows his eyes. “The water.”
Felix blinks in confusion. “What?”
Lestat scowls. “The water is off again. I need it back on. I want to take a bath.”
Felix stares at him for a moment, scrutinizing him, to which Lestat bares his teeth at. Felix jumps back, raising his arms defensively. “Alright, the water. Yeah, I’ll get that sorted.”
Felix walks out of the shack, but not without mumbling to himself. “Fucking crazy old man…”
Lestat watches him go, and when he feels that Felix is long gone, he collapses to his knees, biting his nails nervously. Because, he should’ve known that Felix was in the house. Somehow, he didn’t sense the fledgling, something that makes Lestat’s terror grow. Forcing himself to relax, he turns to where he had thrown the plank into the wall, and goes to pick it up. He’s fine, he just needs to start practicing again, and then everything can go back to normal.
As he places the plank down in its rightful place, he sits down in front of it and starts to say, “Siri, play—”
But before he can continue, his words falter as he notices something lying on the floor next to him. There on the ground next to him, is a plush wolf toy, around eight inches in size. And around its neck, a collar that reads, ‘Wolfkiller.’
Lestat feels the world around him start to shrink and all he can see is this plush animal staring up at him with its big plastic eyes staring up at him mockingly. Distantly, he hears Siri say, “Sorry, I didn’t get that.”
Lestat feels himself go back to yesterday, the feel of Magnus touching him, licking him, invading him. His eyes fill with tears and his mouth opens wide in shock as he struggles to make sense of it. Because somehow it wasn’t all in his head. Somehow it was real. Somehow he really didn’t scatter the ashes. And now Magnus had come back to punish him for it. It’s at this moment that he remembers Claudia’s mocking smile and her crooning voice and the words she had spoken to him yesterday. This is what she meant. Magnus is the skeleton in his closet, coming back from the shadows to deliver Lestat’s retribution. Magnus had remade him anew yesterday, and he had left him a little reminder of what is further to come.
He has to run. He has to leave here. But the thought slowly dies away when he realizes that no matter where he goes, Magnus will always find him. He can’t escape him. He can’t hide from him. With unseeing eyes, Lestat shakily sets down the plush wolf toy, and turns back to his plank. It doesn’t matter now. He has to play. He has to be perfect so he can be a rockstar and everyone can love him and he can finally feel something other than the agonizing emptiness that he has felt everyday of his cursed existence.
Mumbling the tune to himself, Lestart starts to play.
When Louis had followed the fledgling into a dilapidated shack, he wasn’t expecting to see Lestat. Yes, he had come back to New Orleans to pay Lestat a well-needed visit, but he wasn’t expecting to see him so soon.
So when he stepped into the shack and saw Lestat there, mumbling to himself and tapping at a wooden plank, he was overcome with a myriad of emotions. First it was adoration, and then sadness, and then guilt, but finally he settled on acceptance. The fledgling was addressing Louis now, with confused eyes. “Who you?”
Before Louis could respond, Lestat said, “Louis.” Though his tone was defeated, and he had stopped playing to instead stare in front of him at something no one else could see.
The fledgling huffed but turned to Lestat and said, “The water should be fixed now.”
Lestat’s eyes seemed to sharpen at this and he gave the fledgling a tense look, looking to Louis, and then back at the fledgling. The fledgling rolled his eyes, deciding that he was done with whatever was happening, and went to leave.
Louis watched as he left, and then he turned back to Lestat who was staring up at Louis with something like fear. “Why… Why are you back Louis?” Lestat whispered, and Louis noticed that his hands were shaking.
“Back?” Louis asked slowly.
Lestat stood up, and Louis trailed the movement, noticing little things. Like how Lestat seemed to want to come closer to him, but something was holding him back. How Lestat’s hands were folded together to hide the fact that they were shaking. How Lestat looked gaunt and pale. “I’ve never seen that outfit on you…” Lestat whispered, but it was low like he was saying it to himself.
Louis didn’t know what to make of all this, so he started on his own script that he had been rehearsing since he realized that he wanted to come see Lestat. He started with the pressing question. “Lestat, did you save me in Paris?”
And then Lestat revealed that he had, although in his own words he ‘gave him up to Armand.’ The two of them continued their heart to heart, with both of them apologizing, laughing, and crying. And finally, Lestat was in his arms again.
As he was hugging Lestat, Louis had opened his eyes and noticed something lying on the floor. He pulled away from the embrace reluctantly, to point at the item. “What’s that?”
Lestat dragged his eyes away from Louis’s face to look at what he was talking about and Louis watched worriedly as Lestat’s face became very pale. “That…” He trailed off, his eyes haunted.
Louis gave Lestat a cautious look, and then stepped forward to pick up what he was now realizing was a plush wolf toy. Louis turned it over with confusion, wondering why Lestat would have something like this. And then he noticed the words on the collar. “Wolfkiller?” He said slowly.
Louis let out a fond laugh. The idea of Lestat owning stuffed animals was actually quite cute. “Lestat, what is this? I don’t remember you liking stuffed animals.”
Lestat smiled wanly, but didn’t respond. His eyes flickered to the side, as if listening for something. Louis watched in befuddlement. Finally he asked, “Lestat?”
Lestat’s eyes returned to Louis and he swallowed, running a nervous hand through his hair. “There are some things I haven’t told you about.”
Louis narrowed his eyes at the thought of more secrets. After everything he went through with Armand, it had his hackles rising. “What things?”
Lestat closed his eyes tightly. “Or, I have told you but… not the whole ah… story.”
“I'm getting nervous now, Lestat,” Louis chuckled, giving Lestat a confused look. “What haven’t you told me?”
Lestat frantically stepped towards him, and Louis was momentarily taken aback at the sudden change in the other man’s demeanor. Now, Lestat seemed almost panicked, rather than somber. Lestat gave Louis a pleading look. “I bring this up now Louis, because—”
Before Lestat could finish, both men froze as another presence suddenly became known in the house. Louis turned to Lestat. “Who else—” He trailed off as he noticed how pale Lestat had suddenly become. Seeing his maker in such a state of fear made Louis’s stomach drop. What the hell was going on?
And then, Lestat and Louis’s heads both turned in unison as a man stepped into the room they were in. Louis heard Lestat gasp and take a step back, but Louis’s eyes were stuck on the man who had stepped into the room. He noticed the hair first. It was long and stringy, and jet black. The man’s face was gaunt and scary-looking. In fact, his entire demeanor was off-putting. What was a man like this doing in Lestat’s home? Louis turned back to Lestat, about to ask for an explanation when the man suddenly spoke.
“Your companion?” The man’s voice was raspy and hurt his ears. And the way he said that, it was as if he were mocking Lestat.
Louis was immediately on the defensive. “Lestat, who is this?”
But when Louis turned to look at Lestat, the other man seemed paralyzed with fear. He was biting his lip hard, to the point that he had broken the skin. Louis hissed in sympathy, grabbing Lestat gently. “Hey, Les—”
The man was suddenly in front of them, he had moved so fast that Louis hadn’t even noticed. It was then that Louis realized the unnatural glow of the other man’s eyes meant that he was also a vampire. Somehow, Louis hadn’t realized that when he first saw him, but now it seemed obvious. And not just a fledgling, but a powerful vampire. Someone who had years on Lestat, and even more on him. But who… and then Louis had a painful thought.
His grim suspicions were confirmed when the other man gave him a wide smile, but it didn’t look right. His lips were dry and cracked and the smile just made him look scarier. “Yes, you are right, Louis. I am Lestat’s maker, Magnus.”
Louis, realizing that Magnus had read his mind, closed it immediately. Louis shook his head. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Or had Lestat lied about that?
“Louis,” Lestat whispered from behind him.
Louis turned to look at him incredulously. “What the hell’s going on here? How is your maker standing in front of us?”
Lestat’s face contorted with anguish. “It’s my fault. I didn’t scatter the ashes,” he moaned. “And now he’s—” Lestat’s voice broke as he covered his mouth, sobbing into his hand.
Louis wrapped his arms around him, confused and shaken. Magnus was still watching them with his demented grin. The ancient vampire then said, “It’s all the better this way. You’ve grown so much, wolfkiller. I will never leave you again. Not when you are even more tantalizing than you were before.”
These words made Louis’s insides clench with anger. Especially when he saw how they affected Lestat, who was choking on his own cries. Magnus hummed, stepping closer to them and then suddenly Louis felt himself flying through the air and hitting the wall.
“Louis!” Lestat shouted, panicked.
Louis groaned as he sat up, and he watched in a daze as Magnus gripped Lestat tightly, even as Lestat tried to pull away. “Let go!” Lestat was shouting, angry and fearful all at once.
Louis tried to stand, but he felt something holding him down. The mind gift, he realized. At this point, Lestat had stopped fighting and was instead pleading with Magnus to let Louis go. “Please, you can’t hurt him. Please, please…”
Magnus raised his hand, and used a long fingernail to brush through the hair in front of Lestat’s face. Lestat was shaking in his hold, but he didn’t fight it. He only stood there, face pale as Magnus rasped, “Did you forget what I told you, yesterday?”
Louis pushed and pushed, trying desperately to stand up, but Magnus’s powers overpowered him easily. “Yesterday? The hell are you talking about!” Louis shouted.
Lestat was whispering. “Please, please…”
Magnus’s face contorted and it was beyond anything Louis had ever seen before. The very sight of it filled him with dread, and for a moment he paused his fighting, terror overcoming his will to fight. Then, Magnus’s mouth opened wide as he said in a grave tone, “You are mine, wolfkiller. I made you and so I own you. I am your companion now. I am your husband now.”
Louis felt like the world was ending. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He had just gotten Lestat back and now here was the devil, risen from the dead, coming to take him from Louis and drag him down into hell with him where he had crawled out from. He wouldn’t let it happen. “Like hell you are! You don’t own shit!” Louis snapped.
Magnus laughed a terrible laugh, and then he tilted his head, giving Louis a mocking look. “Is that so?”
Louis shot Lestat a pleading look. “Lestat, please don’t listen to him! You’ve got to fight back!”
But it was like Lestat wasn’t even in the room anymore. He looked to be in a daze, his eyes half-lidded and his posture slackened. Magnus picked up Lestat’s hand, and Louis watched with horror as the man removed Lestat’s ring, tossing it to the ground in front of Louis. “You don’t need that anymore, wolfkiller. I will gladly get you a new one. We have yet to be wed at the altar, but we have already consummated yesterday.” As he said the last sentence, Magnus gave Louis a pointed look.
Lestat shook his head, face pale. “I didn’t want… I said no… But I couldn’t…” He trailed off, curling into himself, and collapsing into another bout of tears.
And hearing those words, Louis thought of what Lestat had told him all those years ago. The way Lestat had looked when he had said ‘I didn’t want this.’ The way he then went on about how he had a gift for enduring. Back then, Louis hadn’t understood the whole story. Now, he knows that what Lestat faced with this man was worse than he could have ever imagined. The idea that Magnus was somehow here yesterday, and had raped Lestat and was now relating it to sex between a married couple? It was unforgivable. It was inconceivable. But beyond that, Louis felt a staggering amount of guilt. Because if only he had gotten here a day earlier, he could have stopped it.
But then Louis realizes the position he is in. With not even a flick of his hand, Magnus had his stuck to this wall, unable to move. What could he have done for Lestat? He thinks of the fear Lestat must have felt when he came to the same conclusion that Louis is coming to right now. That he could do nothing as Magnus took what he wanted from him. He can’t even imagine the despair Lestat must have felt.
Louis shook his head, seeing red as he thought of Lestat’s fear. “You fucking bastard,” he hissed at Magnus.
“Another word and I will kill you,” Magnus said gravely.
At this, Lestat spoke. “No, you mustn’t. You mustn’t kill Louis,” he whispered, staring up at Magnus with eyes filled with despair.
Magnus smiled. “It is time to leave here. We must be wed, and then we can begin our life together.”
Louis choked, but said nothing. He was thinking now, how could he get Lestat out of this situation. He thought back to Armand and Daniel. He needed their help. Somehow, he needed to find a way to free Lestat from this monster. Louis watched, his heart dropping, as Magnus pulled Lestat into a kiss, though it was more one-sided than anything as Lestat seemed to be frozen as Magnus licked into his mouth. When Magnus pulled away, a string of saliva was connecting their lips. Lestat’s eyes filled with tears now, and the blood dripped down his face, though he was silent. He had accepted his fate, Louis realized with alarm.It was at this moment that Louis wished he and Lestat could speak telepathically.
Magnus rubbed a finger down Lestat’s face fondly, and then grabbed him tightly. It was then that Lestat turned to Louis and gave him a look that he will never forget. Lestat’s eyes were rimmed red and his face was full of centuries of pain and anguish. His mouth opened and in a low voice he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Louis.”
And all Louis could do was scream as Magnus gripped Lestat in his hold and then flew off into the air, breaking through the roof of the shack and disappearing into the night. When Louis finally felt the hold that Magnus’s mind gift had on him let up, he howled with grief at all that he had just lost. Lestat was gone! Taken by a monster to hell!
Louis tried desperately to use his mind to search for Lestat, to see where he was taken, but he felt blood drip out from his ears and nose. He had completely exhausted himself, and he couldn’t use his gifts at the moment. Cursing, he pulled out his phone and shot Daniel a text.
S.O.S. Come to New Orleans, ASAP! Tell Armand to come back if he left already! I need you both here now, Lestat needs help!
With that, he raced out of the shack and into the night.