𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗙𝗮𝘄𝗻
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴏᴜɪꜱ x ᴏᴄ x ʟᴇꜱᴛᴀᴛ
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟᴏᴜɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇꜱᴛᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴀ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏꜱᴛꜱ.
ᴛᴡ: ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴘʀᴇᴅᴀᴛᴏʀ/ᴘʀᴇʏ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ
an: this one-shot is inspired by a few iwtv fics I’ve read on here, but I tried to give it my own twist. I hope y’all enjoy my precious little monsters! Btw, it’s basically x reader but I have her a name and little bit of a backstory cause it makes things run a little smoother while writing.
Running was the only option. That's what she told herself as she stood in the darkness of the docks. The night was foggy and she would've been blinded by night had it not been for the lampposts. Her body shook with fear. They'd find her, she thought to herself. And if they didn't, they'd hunt her down, but now she was free. She was finally free.
If Andrea had one regret, it would be leaving her dear girl. Her light, her beauty, her Claudia. She had no idea what her parents had done or who they were. She was a happy little monster, and she deserved her freedom. She hoped she wouldn't hate her and that one day, she'd find her and let her explain.
It wasn't suppose to be this way. She was meant to be free after working at the Azelea. Make her money and take herself and her bother, Julian, far away from this place. They wanted to go to New York. That dream was long gone.
Andrea was never supposed to be wrapped up in Louis and Lestat's damned relationship. She wondered, briefly, if she'd ever even had a choice. She knew if she had, this would never had happened. She was wooed, seduced and then taken into that home without any knowledge of what that would be.
Running was the only option.
She knew this to be true. She would only remain human for so long, and she still wanted a taste of her freedom. For whatever reason they'd refused to turn her, especially so early. She was only twenty-five, and they enjoyed her innocence. The kind of innocence only a human could have. They liked her wide eyed optimism, and it made them feel less like the monsters they were.
Her innocence had been depleted into nothing but empty, inky blackness. She felt nothing but fear and despair now.
Her memories started coming back the more Claudia asked about her past and the more she drew blanks. Louis and Lestat would comfort her and fill in the gaps for her, but it never felt right. Her hands shook with fear as her memories settled back into her mind.
Andrea never thought she'd be working at the Azelea. She was a bright young artist with a point of view, her paintings were her pride and joy. But money was running low and Julian could not provide for both of them. He would never know what she did at night, or perhaps he did, but he never complained about the extra cash.
He wanted so badly to protect her, but he couldn't do it any longer, not when they were barely scraping by. She had to learn to fend for herself.
Luckily, the Azelea was a well kept establishment and she wasn't treated badly. Her boundaries were her boundaries and the girls there protected her when it was needed. Especially since she didn't like going past simple favours.
The true height of her nights was the two men who she got to lay her eyes on every night. The owner of the club and man about town, Louis de Pointe du Lac and his paramour Lestat de Lioncourt. How could an artist glance at them and not see what magnificent they exuded? They quickly became her inspiration after a few long glances.
Those long glances would soon turn into longing looks. When Lestat played the piano at the club, he'd lock eyes with her and then with Louis, as if he was playing for them. When Louis walked around the club with a cigar between his lips, he'd keep his gaze trained on her even as he talked to others. Andrea blushed and giggled when they did that.
What she didn't know at the time was that they knew every sickeningly sweet thought she had about them, and those gazes and winks were teasing, almost beckoning her to come closer. They watched her every night as she debased herself for lecherous men, but refused to go all the way. It was something she really didn't allow herself to do, and as there was no shortage of girls at the club, no one ever mentioned it
She'd find herself painting them on her nights off, which had become more and more frequent. For whatever reason, her work had become sparse and men no longer approached her. She felt she was doing something wrong, something that made her undesirable. Was it her resistance to do more than what she offered?
It wasn't so bad at the time, but she saw Julian's dejected face every time she got home with empty pockets. She couldn't stand it anymore and so to reduce the cost, she'd spend nights at the Azelea in that one room that was always free. Coincidentally it was the room she kept her painting supplies in.
The night had come to a close, even though it was still dark. Fake moans could be heard from most every room, but the band had cleared out and the tables were empty. Andrea was painting again and this time, she'd taken her appreciation for the two elusive men's beauty a bit far, portraying them as heavenly angels.
Given what they were, it later felt like a perversion of the holy paintings she'd seen all her life. But now, all she knew were that they were divinity incarnate, with eyes like church windows.
That's where she struggled the most, her brush strokes becoming more meticulous with every second. Their faces were sculpted like marble, each highlight and shadow falling perfectly into place. She sighed as she looked at the half finished work.
A knock at the door broke her out of her haze. "Andrea, I'm coming in!" According to him he had knocked twice prior to entering, but Andrea hadn't heard Louis.
She jolted and almost backed up entirely into her pairing. Thankfully, she barely managed to hide it from the smiling face of her angels. Louis had come in with Lestat behind him, grinning mischievously.
She giggled nervously. "M-Mister du Lac! Mister Lioncourt! How can I help you?" She had never truly spoken with them, having been hired by the head girl who everyone called Bricks. Andrea silently hoped they weren't here to talk about her lack of business, or to let her go.
Louis heard her thoughts that night too, and had internally scoffed at the idea that they'd ever let her go. He'd been the one who had made her off-limits to touch. Both he and his companion had quickly grown attached to the bright young girl, and seeing her be caressed and violated by random dirty men filled them with rage, so he'd put a stop to that.
"You seem nervous, Andrea. Trust me, nothing to be nervous about." Louis reassured, removing his sunglasses and placing them into his inner jacket pocket.
Lestat hadn't spoken a single word, only taken in the room around him. It seemed Andrea had built her on world in that room, and he wanted to know everything about her world. Her mind was a wonder to him, a cavern of artistic inspiration and a view of the world he hadn't seen in decades. It was so pure, just like her and just like her paintings.
She sighed, relieved. Then Louis looked down at her hands, stained with paint. "Painting again, huh?"
Her cheeks grew red with shame. "Y-you noticed that?"
"Of course, I did." His hand reached out and grabbed the side of her neck, his thumb brushing over her throat. Her breath caught in her chest as he pressed into her skin firmly, eyes wide at such a bold gesture. He huffed a laugh at her pure reaction, as if she'd never been touched before. He liked how sensitive she was and how curious her eyes grew, desperate to look at his actions but unable to. When he pulled away, there was emerald paint on his thumb. The colour of his eyes. "You've got splashes of colour all over you." He said slowly. She didn't speak, still shocked at his actions. "I've never seen a finished painting though." Was that an invitation? Did he want to see her work? She didn't know.
A presence was felt behind her and she jumped away. "The spirit of a true creator, and the instincts of a frightened fawn." The velvety baritone of Lestat spoke, she turned to face him, her back now facing Louis and her painting exposed. "Fascinating. Almost as fascinating as your most recent work, ma petit faon." My little fawn.
His eyes were glued onto the painting as Louis neared them from behind her. She could feel the coldness of his body, his chest almost settling into her back. His shining eyes settled onto the portrait of him and Lestat, specifically on the angel wings on their backs. The longing looks in their eyes and the intimacy of that.
"Angels? You painted us as angels?" He asked quietly. He was an angel to her? Truly?
Lestat smiled softly. "Closely entwined heavenly bodies. Is this how you see us, cherie?"
Andrea was still trying to stutter her words out, looking from Louis to Lestat as if one would help with the other. But they only stared at you with soft expressions on their faces. "I-I—" she cut herself off, gathering her thoughts. "On the nights I don't get much business," which was every night now. "I paint. I see you every night, the way you look at each other, the way you enjoy yourselves, your eyes. Unearthly eyes. Like stars." Her rambling had gotten the best of her. "Apologies, Mister du Lac, Mister Lioncourt, that was out of line—I shouldn't have—"
Louis placed his hand on her arm and pulled her closer to him, grinning down at her. "Careful there, sugarcane. If you keep talking like that your tongue's gonna fall out."
Her back was pressed into his chest, and she was silenced again.
Lestat stood before her, looking to the portrait one final time before glancing back at her. He placed his hand on her cheek with a certain finality in his eyes. If only she'd known what that meant. "It's enchanting. No, more than that, magnificent. You are a being of extraordinary talent, and extraordinary beauty."
Everything felt so hot. Andrea was breathing heavily at the feeling of being so intimately between these two men who she'd admired for so long. This moment could've lasted forever, it was art in itself. The Divine Damned and Their Fawn.
Lestat hummed. "I'd like to pay you for your work. Have this masterpiece hung in our home."
"Name your price and I'll take it. You'll have to come see it mounted of course, I'd like your keen artistic eye." His smile turned into a smirk at the thought of her in their home.
Andrea couldn't believe it. Someone wanted to pay for her work. Someone actually wanted to have her paintings in their home! This was amazing!
"Are we getting an answer anytime soon, Andy?" Louis asked with a laugh. Andy? That was new.
Andrea laughed nervously. "Mister du Lac—"
"Louis." He corrected. "You can call me Louis."
What was happening? She hadn't even spoken to them before tonight. Why were they being so kind? Something felt wrong.
"Louis." She said slowly. It tasted sweet on her tongue. "I can't possibly take your money. It wouldn't be right!"
"And why not?" Lestat asked. "You've created something of worth here and I'd like to see it appreciated. You must be compensated somehow. Unless you'd prefer another form of payment." He gave her a lustful glance up and down her body. She shivered.
"Lestat." Louis chided. "Pay him no mind, sugarcane. He can get haughty."
"Horribly untrue, mon cher. I'm only being honest." The Frenchman scoffed. "Your price, beautiful Andrea?"
"How's three thousand?" Louis piped up, not even blinking.
"Excuse me?!" She shrieked.
"Four thousand?" Asked Lestat. Her mouth was agape. "No, how about five?"
"Stop saying numbers!" Andrea interrupted loudly, immediately feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry, I am, I don't—"
"Five thousand it is." The blonde continued. "We'll come back in a week. Have it done by then, hm?" And then he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Shall we, mon cher?"
Louis nodded. "A week, Andrea." He reminded before pressing a kiss to her cheek.
And then they walked away. Seven days from that night, her entire life would change.
They'd come to collect a week later and with all her free time, she'd managed to finish. They'd both marvelled at the painting and immediately insisted she come to their home and tell them where to place it.
Andrea shied away at the prospect. She'd told her brother about them and Julian had asked her to stay away. He didn't demand anything of her, but he strongly advised against getting involved with them. He'd told her of the rumours, that they were in cahoots with the devil. She'd scoffed at that, but agreed something was off about them. There was no way to be so otherworldly and slightly off putting and still be normal, or completely human even. But she shook those thoughts from her head.
Of course they were human! They were right there in front of her, flesh and blood! It was silly to think otherwise, but then again they were just so fascinating. People usually weren't so.
She promised herself she'd only stay for an hour, but when they guided her through the door, her painting under Lestat's arm, she'd been accosted by a lovely girl with a large shining smile. She shrieked with excitement, jumping from her seat on the couch. "Oh, is this her, daddy Lou?" She asked him.
He nodded. "Yeah, this is her. Andrea, meet our daughter, Claudia."
He'd spoken of her a lot over the past week whenever he and Lestat came to visit her room. According to him, she was a lovely little horror that kept them on their toes every day. She'd laughed at that and told him she used to dream of being a mother to a girl like that.
That had made both him and Lestat incredibly excited.
"They talk about you a lot, Miss Andrea!" The girl confessed, giggling. "They said you were gorgeous and talented and you are!"
"Claudia." Lestat chided. "Calm yourself, ma petit. Lovely Andrea needs a moment. Don't you, sweet girl?"
Andrea just broke out into chuckles. "On the contrary, she is just as you described, and I love it!" She said. "It's lovely to meet you."
"You too!" The child said honestly. "Is that the painting? Can I see?"
After that night, visiting Louis, Lestat and Claudia had become regular for her. She'd spend her every moment there, teaching the young girl to draw and paint when her parents were busy and then passing the rest of her time conversing with the two men.
"No!" She shook her head on one of these nights. "No, no, no! I'm sorry, Louis dear, but there is no way you truly believe that anything could come close to the brilliance that is Wuthering Heights! That's nonsense!"
He laughed at her passionate words. She was laid on the couch with her head in Lestat's lap and her legs on Louis', discussing their favorite novels. It was heaven.
This home was so cozy, so sweet. She loved it there. Her head was fuzzy from the champagne they'd fed her for the last few hours, fingers and face stained with charcoal from drawing with Claudia.
"Just because it's your favourite doesn't mean it's the best, sugarcane!" He rebutted kindly.
"No." She said simply. "It is the best. And yes, simply because I say so."
Lestat laughed loudly at that statement, pinching her cheek slightly. "What a brat you are, my girl. Never wavering from your opinions."
She pouted. "So you disagree then?"
"With you?" He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her nose as Louis caressed her thigh. "Never." He said dramatically.
"Oh, so it's ya'll against me now, is it?" The younger vampire cut in playfully. "I see how it is."
Andrea pulled his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. "We haven't unionised just yet, Louis. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."
"Not yet?" He asked. "So you will eventually?"
"She already has me in her thrall. I might not have a choice, mon cher." Lestat weakly defended himself.
"Not my fault." She mumbled lowly.
Louis chuckled. "He was right, you are a brat!" He said, and then pinched her side. She squealed and jumped. "Oh, you're ticklish, aren't you?"
"Louis, don't you dare!" She said. A meaningless warning as he began attacking her skin with a tingling sensation as she thrashed and laughed. "Lestat!"
"I'm not getting involved. This is far too fun to watch!"
"You monster!" Andrea said playfully.
She'd never been happier than in that moment.
As of late, the moment she was left alone with Lestat and Louis it felt like everything was right in the world. She'd feel a title between her legs she had felt with so few people, but also a sense of safety.
"You two love each other, right?" She'd asked one night, lying in their bed. She didn't know how she got there between the drinks and jokes, but there she was, cuddled between them. Louis held her and Lestat had his head rested on her stomach, letting her play with his hair. The younger vampire would occasionally press kisses against her head and Lestat would whine and cuddle closer into her.
Lestat nodded. "Yes, we do, mon cherie. Very much." He answered. "Have you ever been in love?"
Andrea shook her head. "No. I'm only twenty-one, Lestat. I haven't lived long enough to fall in love."
They laughed at the reminder of how young she truly was. A lick and a promise in vampire years, truly.
"I hope I will." She confessed. "I'd like to. Fall in love, have a family."
We could be your family, Lestat wanted to say.
"At the club," Louis spoke. "The girls told me you don't do a lot."
She suddenly remembered that this man was not just her friend, but her bosses boss. Her cheeks grew red with shame and she moved away slightly even as his grip around her kept her firmly with him. "I-I'm sorry. I just—I couldn't—"
"I'm not sayin' it's anything bad, sugarcane. Don't worry." He smiled at her concern. "I just wanna know why?"
This time her cheeks were red with bashfulness. "I've never..." she paused. "I wanted to save it—"
"For a special occasion?" Lestat filled in, looking up at her with mischievous eyes. "That's sweet. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken up work as a prostitute then."
"You own the establishment, you don't get to play holier than thou." He scoffed. He then turned back to Andrea. "It truly is a sweet sentiment, though. It's a special thing."
"I think so." She said. She suddenly realised just how close Lestat's face was to the heat between her legs. She felt flushed and nervous.
Louis smirked at her, listening to her shallow breaths and her quick heartbeat. "Huh. Are we special to you, Andy?"
She nodded, unknowing of their thoughts. "Yes."
"Incredibly. You're my muses." She answered honestly, her head fuzzy.
Lestat's hand snuck under her dress, caressing her calf gently. He began to slowly bunch her dress up and pull it up, up, up her thighs.
Louis pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then her eye, her nose her cheek and finally her lips. She gasped at the two sensations, Louis dominating her mouth with his own and taking her in like she belonged within him. He held her neck with one hand and caressed her chest with his other. He pulled away and she whined.
Lestat bunched her dress over her hips and pulled her panties down her legs, throwing them haphazardly somewhere in the room. Another whine left her lips.
"You sure about this?" Asked Louis, lips swollen.
She nodded once at him and then down at Lestat. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
"For tonight only, yes. I trust you." For tonight only. As if they'd let her slip from their grasp after this.
Given her profession, she wanted to get this over with soon, and now she had someone to do it with. Someone to guide her, to care for her and talk her through it. She knew she'd be leaving for New York soon, so didn't allow herself to think of any deeper relationship developing, and she thought she'd made that clear with her statement. For tonight only.
Louis' mouth was against hers again in a flash and Lestat went to work devouring her.
That night they took her in every way they could, and in their minds, had laid claim to her body as they had to her mind.
Julian did not like the fact that she was with them so often. Not only was she with strange men at late hours, she wasn't bringing home any money. The money they'd given her for the painting had quickly run out and she couldn't find it in herself to ask for more.
"You can't keep doing this, Andrea." He'd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you're enjoying yourself, and that's fine, I'm happy for you, but they ain't good for you, I swear."
She looked up at him from her seat on the floor of their apartment. "I like them. They're very nice to me." Andrea said, nervously playing with her hair.
He kneeled down in front of her with a concerned look on his face. "I know." He said, cupping her face. "I know that. But we gotta start buckling down. We're getting so close to New York." He said happily.
She gasped. "We are?!" She jumped to her feet, giddy. "New York, Julian! New York!"
"New-fucking-York!" He hollered, joining her in her excitement. "Woo-hoo!"
"Yes, finally!" She cried, years of stress falling off her shoulders. "How much more do we need?"
When he told her the number, she sighed in relief. All she needed was one more client to make that much. Sure, no one in the Azelea approached her anymore, but for this she'd be the one to initiate. Just a little more money, that was all, and they'd be free.
"I can get that." She told him confidently. "I swear to you, Julian, I'll get us that money, and we'll be out of here."
He sighed. "Andrea, you don't have to—"
"I do though." She interrupted. "And I will. I promise. Let me take care of this one thing, please."
And reluctantly, he let her.
That night she walked into the establishment with a goal, not even noticing the looks of confusion she got from Louis and Lestat. Not noticing them at all really.
She set her sights on the drunk man who was sat in the corner and had zeroed in on her the moment she walked through the doors. He was from out of town, she was sure. She hadn't seen him before that night, so he was perfect.
She didn't know the eyes trained on her as she finished her work and was given the money. Her body felt used, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had the money now, and immediately went to speak to Bricks, so she could quit.
The older woman had looked her up and down sceptically. "You sure about this?"
"Yes. I am, Bricks." Andrea had said with a large smile. "I've got the money now. Me and my brother and I are heading to New York."
Her brows furrowed at those words. "Mister du Lac know about that?"
"Louis?" Andrea said, slightly shocked. "I'll say my goodbyes to him before I go. I don't see how he's part of this exchange."
"So he doesn't know." She filled in. "You might wanna talk to him before you quit."
But Bricks couldn't answer that. Or rather, she wouldn't. She hesitated to say anything, but knew her boss would want to be told as soon as possible.
So instead of supplying an answer, she just shook her head. "No reason. Just to let him know he's losing one of his girls." She clarified. "Good luck in New York, muffin."
She sighed, relieved. "Thank you, Bricks."
When she'd arrived home, Julian had already started packing. She'd shown him the money and he'd thrown his arms around her with such glee, she never wanted the feeling to go away.
They laughed and teased each other as they threw their clothes into the suitcases, making plans for what they would do in their new city. Andrea had never been so happy before.
A knock sounded at their door. Julian furrowed his brows. "Expecting company?" He asked her.
She shook her head confusedly. "No. You?"
He shook his head as well, and then went to asked the door. She shrugged and continued packing.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, can I help you?" Julian asked their unexpected visitors.
She couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, it was quiet and muffled but then she made out the sound of Julian shouting.
Julian never shouted. He was a calm man with a good head on his shoulders. What had gotten him so out of himself?
She put her clothes down and walked out of the room, eyes immediately landing on the scene before her.
It was her angels, Lestat and Louis. The former had Julian up against the wall with his hand around his throat, and Louis just watched her.
She shrieked at the sight. "What are you doing?!"
Louis just shook his head at her and pointed his finger. "New York?" He asked accusingly.
She only nodded, confused. "What?"
"You're going to New York? Seriously?"
She swallowed her fear. "I was going to come say goodbye before we left, of course I was—"
But that wasn't the problem. He sped in front of her, his face so close to her own she could feel his angry huffing against her skin.
"After you made your money, right?" He seethed.
She shook. "How did you—"
"Before we could rip that dumb fucker off of you and chop his hands off?" It came out like a shout and she flinched, her ears aching.
She looked away from him and directly at Julian. "Lestat, please get off him!"
He only laughed mockingly and pressed her brother harder against the wall. "I don't think so, ma petit faon. He's the reason you want to leave, yes?"
She shook her head urgently. "No, no, we've had this plan for years—"
"But it was him." Lestat continued. "If he wasn't with you, you wouldn't even have thought about it. You'd be content with us."
"With you?" She repeated, fear and confusion getting the best of her. "It was one night, I told you it would be! I don't understand! Please just let him go!"
The blonde tilted his head, as if thinking. "Alright." And then Julian was thrown onto the other side of the room.
Andrea cried out. Her brother was hurt, hurt by the man she considered so horribly important. He must've broken something, bruised some other parts, and when she saw the blood staining his head she jolted forward. She needed to take care of him, to get him away from these people he'd been right about, she needed him to be better, she could make him better.
But Louis would not let her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist as she thrashed in his hold like a wild animal. "Sh, sh, sh, sh. It's okay. It's okay." He cooed in her ear. She was horrified, kicking and scratching at him but he didn't even blink.
"No, no! Julian!" She screamed. But he was unresponsive, minus some slight groans falling from his lips.
Lestat sauntered before her, flicking his wrist and looking down at her brother. Then he looked directly at her, placing his hands on her face like Julian used to. He pressed his lips to her temple and inhaled her scent, an angry hiss like sound leaving his lips. "I can still smell him on you." He sneered. "You really thought you could leave, sweet girl? This is your home, we are your home." He insisted.
Andrea still struggled against Louis' hold, tears streaming down her face. "He's right. Andy, he's right." She other spoke into her ear. "Please, just listen."
She wept as he spoke. "What are you?"
They paused at the question, Louis looking down in shame but Lestat ready to answer.
"Vampires, dear girl. We're vampires."
That sounded ridiculous. But she thought about it for a moment; they were only out at night, she never saw them eating, some men seen at the club once were never seen again, and their strength. The strength to throw Julian across a room without blinking an eye. There was no way, no possible, tangible way. But it was true.
Angels. She'd seen them as angels, when they were exactly the opposite. Their beauty was unearthly, but not divine. It was damned.
She breathed heavily, panic shooting up and down her chest. She thrashed even more, screeching like a wild monster. "Let me go! Let me go! Julian!"
Lestat's eyes grew soft and full of pity. His poor Andrea. His poor, beautiful Andrea who did not deserve to feel any of this pain. If only she'd told them before hand, and they couldn't removed this ridiculous notion from her head.
"Don't concern yourself with him." He cooed. "Soon enough, he'll be gone, and you'll be with us."
"Just listen to him, sugarcane. We'll be happy, I promise." Louis spoke softly into her ear.
He nodded towards his companion, a secret promise for something that must be done. As long as Julian was alive, he would haunt her every memory, even if they made her forget him. Even if they made him forget her, he'd see the pictures or read his diaries and look for her. He needed to be taken care of, so Andrea could be taken care of.
"But for now," Lestat said, walking back to the groaning body of her brother. He wrapped his hand around his neck again, twisting.
"No!" She cried, sobbing.
"Rest." Said Lestat. The last thing she heard before her eyes shut was a sickening snap! and the horrifying promises of her new life.
They'd made her forget it all. Replaced her memories of her brother with memories of a childhood friend who'd passed when they were young. Julian no longer existed to her, or to anyone at all. Until things began to click.
All she remembered was changing her mind about New York and running to their townhouse to confess her love, and they'd taken her in with open arms. Over the last four years, they'd crafted somewhat of a perfect relationship. They all worked together so well, and Claudia had been beside herself when Andrea had become a permanent fixture in their home.
It took no more than a month for her to refer to Andrea as Mama. Andrea was finally a mother, and her child was perfect.
But she was leaving. On the night the three of them had gone hunting together, she'd laid in bed and searched her mind for every one of your hidden memories, finally breaking through their brainwashing. She'd panicked immediately, grasping at her chest and finding disgust in every inch of the home, her paintings included.
They were hanged all over the house, in the coffin room, the living room, the hallways. Lestat said it was a shrine to her greatness. She wanted to puke.
She'd packed a bag and gotten a ride to the docks before they'd come back, buying the next ticket out. She wasn't even sure where the boat was headed, but knew it was far away from New Orleans. Perhaps she could make it to New York someday, fulfil her brother's dream. Honour him somehow. Guilt clawed at her chest. She should honour him, she'd gotten him killed. Her and her stupid love for those creatures.
She waited impatiently. She looked around her, and something suddenly felt very wrong. There was no one there. It wasn't odd at this time of night, but weren't there people working at the docks? It was so, very quiet, hauntingly quiet. She thought it was impossible to hear silence until tonight.
Panic grasped at her chest and she set her suitcase on the ground beside her. "Hello?" She called out. "Hello?" Again. No answer. She walked away to find another, perhaps safer spot.
A flash somewhere in the distance. No. They couldn't have. But they did. They found her. They'd fucking found her.
She ran, her suitcase long forgotten. But she couldn't run for long. They were vampires, apex predators with an all seeing eye. She would be caught and shoved back into her gilded cage soon enough.
But she still had hope she could run. She still had hope for her freedom. How stupid she was.
She kneeled between two crates, trying to keep her whimpering to a minimum but could not help her frightened noises. What would they do if they caught her? Would they hurt her? No, no, they wouldn't. They couldn't. Could they? She heard quick steps and angry breaths from near her and slapped her hand against her mouth. Her eyes widened and she curled into herself.
They would not get to her. She was alright, she deserved to make her own decisions for once. They wouldn't take it from her this time. She'd sooner die than let her take the last bit of herself she had left. But she was so afraid, so horribly afraid. It rung in her ears like a wasps nest, the constant ringing of a threat nearby. Her instinct was to flee, but they would catch her faster if she did.
Only when she heard the steps move further away, did she raise herself to her feet and carefully move away.
That was the wrong decision.
She bumped into something immediately, and then hands shot out to grasp her forearms. "Andrea? Oh, thank God."
It was Louis. He seemed so relieved to see her. It disgusted her to her very core. She reacted immediately, slamming her heal onto his toes. It didn't hurt, but it shocked him enough for him to suddenly release her. He cried out and she ran into a clearing. She didn't know where it led, but it was far away from him.
"Andrea!" He roared from behind her.
For a moment she thought she lost him, but she knew better than to be hopeful.
"Bonjour, ma petit faon." A voice spoke from beside her ear. She jumped to face him, but he simply held her to him tightly, her face pressed against his chest.
She shook in his hold, and thrashed slightly, but he grasped her arms and held her in front of him like a prized calf. "Oh, my precious girl."
"You killed him. You killed Julian, you monster!" She pushed her hands against his chest.
He just nodded slowly. "Yes, I did. And I did it for you. Just like I do everything for you."
"No, you did it for you! For you and for Louis! You killed him, you fucking killed him!" She was wild now, unforgiving, with nothing left to lose but her own life.
His face was now full of rage as he tugged her closer. "It was an act of love. The truest kind. I did what was best for you, I won't have you deny this."
"Let me go, Lestat!" Andrea begged.
He looked her up and down, as if considering something. A long pause between the two of them.
"Alright." He said. "Run."
"I'll give you your chance." He said simply, his face growing feral. "Run."
The game was beginning. His sweet fawn wanted to run, he would let her. He was a hunter, after all, and a hunter needed his prey. She could run all she wanted, her pretty little feet would tap against the ground and she'd search for safety, doe eyed and lost. He'd take her, bind her and bring her home. Home.
He dug his hand into her hair and pulled. "Run." He hissed.
So she did. The lovely little prey with two monsters on her tail.
She tried her best to slow her heartbeat, blood rushing into her ears and her throat closing up with unshed tears.
He took pleasure in this, she was sure. Two pairs of steps were behind her, and now she knew Louis had joined in and he was fucking pissed. While Lestat was playful, the other truly angry.
She ran? She actually fucking ran? How dare she, he thought to himself. They'd done everything for her, welcomed her into their family, and Andrea ran.
He'd get her, they'd get her, and make sure the thought of leaving never crossed her mind again.
She hid behind another crate, just to catch her breath for a moment.
"Come on out, sugarcane!" Louis called out, tired of this chase.
Lestat chuckled deeply at his anger. "What do you think, Louis?" He opened one crate with a flick of his fingers. "Is she in here?" It fell against the ground loudly. Andrea almost shrieked. "No. Our little fawn has sprinted further away."
"I'm getting real tired of these games, Andrea!" Louis huffed.
She carefully lowered her hand from her mouth and swallowed her fear.
Everything went silent and for a moment she thought she'd gotten away.
Then Lestat was before her again, a mocking, self-satisfied smirk on his face. "There she is."
Defeated, she just curled into herself. "No, no, no. Please just let me go."
"And let you slip between our fingers? Go where we cannot find you? I don't think so, dear girl." He shook his head.
Louis shot out to grasp her forearm and pulled her to her feet. He looked her up and down, anger pulsing from his body. But then his eyes creased in concern. "Are you hurt?" He asked shakily.
She shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. He nodded. "Good. Good. That was a stupid thing you did. You scared me. Claudia's worried sick." And then he pulled Andrea into his arms, cradling her head like she was made of glass.
Her body shook with sobs, feeling so utterly undone, that she could no longer fight them. She'd tried and failed to get away. She didn't even want to think what they'd to to her now.
He pulled away and his face was confusing, half fuming half depressed. She didn't understand what he wanted her to say.
"That was fun." Lestat chimed in before he took her jaw in his hand with an iron grip. "But never again, Andrea. You don't run from us." He demanded. "Say it, you don't run from us."
Tears ran down her face. "I don't run from you."
"Good girl." And then he kissed her. It stopped her breath, but he didn't care. He wanted all of her, wanted to consume her being and take it into himself. She was him and he would be her once he had his way.
Before she could catch her breath, Louis kissed her as well and his kiss was desperate as if he searching for something within her that would satiate his hunger. She'd almost slipped away from him, and perhaps here and now he could show her how much he needed her, but he wasn't sure she'd ever know.
She was their light in the darkness, their rose eyed beauty who saw them as angels. Who saw them beyond their vampiric nature, and understood that they too could be good.
Unfortunately, Andrea was aware how delusional this was.
When Louis pulled away she finally breathed, tears streaming down her face. Lestat held her close and kissed away her tears. They loved her, in their own horrible way, they loved her.
"Home." Lestat said. "Let's take you home."
They didn't let her go out much after that, and hadn't bothered to erase her memories. She'd just find out again, and would try her luck in running once more. They'd rather keep her as she is, with the reassurance she wouldn't try and escape.
They'd also forbidden her from telling Claudia what had happened, and they said they'd know if she did. They'd lied to her and just told her that Andrea had lost track of time while painting in the park.
Andrea was relatively numb these days, except when she was with her daughter. She was in bed with Claudia, holding her tightly to her chest.
She watched her mother carefully, concern etched on her features. "Mama, what is it?"
"Nothing, baby." She assured with an unconvincing smile.
Claudia didn't believe her. "It's something. Did you fight with Daddy Lou and Uncle Les?"
It wasn't a fight, it was a fucking hunt. But she couldn't say that to her daughter. "No, Claudia. I'm just tired, I promise."
"Then I believe the time has come to sleep." They heard Lestat from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, a satisfied expression on his face. He was content, it seemed. "Say good night to Mama, Claudia."
The girl vampire frowned but pressed a kiss to her mothers cheek. "Good night, mama. I love you."
Andrea cupped her face. "I love you too."
She got off the bed and walked towards Lestat who held a hand out for his companion. She took it, but did meet his eyes.
He held her close as they made their way to the coffin room. She was already in her sleep wear, same with the other two. Louis walked into the room after them, having said good night to his daughter before joining them.
To the side of the coffin they shared, another one of her paintings lay. It was dark and stormy, two bodies falling through the sky, completely disfigured and angry. Angels wings turned leathery and rough, blood dripping from their mouths, but it was also a bit too blurry to truly make out. It was horrifying.
Louis took one look at it. "New painting?"
She didn't reply, only nodded.
He tried so smile at her. "It's nice."
Lestat pressed a kiss to her head and then allowed her to settle beside him in the coffin. "You've always been so talented, ma petit faon. It was your artistic eye that made us fall for you, I think."
Louis laid on her other side, making it an insanely tight fit, but they would have it no other way.
If they had looked at her painting a little longer, they would've noticed the eyes of the demons she had painted. One pair a disturbing emerald green, and the other an unsettlingly light shade of blue.
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