Something was hunting vampires which hadn't really struck Lestat as a problem until Antoinette had gone missing. He didn't consider himself part of the vampire community much anymore. They had little in common besides the need for blood and in his experience, other vampires could be territorial. That was fine, too, because New York city was huge, but Lestat mostly kept to himself and the few fellows he kept close for companionship and pleasure.
He enjoyed mortals, too, and most of the time he was responsible in not dropping bodies or leaving a trail. He was discreet. Younger vampires had read to much young adult fiction, and the older ones were so detached from humanity, there was no point in trying to carry on a conversation. That was one of the reasons he had turned Antoinette in the first place. Sure, he'd been bored and yes, she was good in bed, but frankly the idea of forever stretching out before him as a solitary existence was terrifying.
And now she was gone. She was a capable vampire because he'd taught her to be, though the weeks since she'd last checked in probably wouldn't have bothered him so much if it wasn't part of a pattern. Other vampires had gone missing, too. And there was a new drug on the scene, causing quite a stir. Half a dozen vampires and then Antoinette. Who could he go to? The cops? Human cops? No. And no one else seemed to be taking the whole thing seriously, which didn't inspire confidence.
But then, he'd heard a rumor from a friend of a friend, someone immersed in the occult scene, which was only tangentially adjacent to the vampire one but still a better lead than he'd had otherwise. John Constantine. Perhaps he could help, if he felt so inclined. Lestat could pay, or trade or however it was one went about employing this man. Lighting his third cigarette since arriving, he'd been told about a spot Constantine frequented, and gotten there himself some time early.
He sat there, drinking and smoking and waiting for this useful stranger to arrive, if he ever did at all. Of all his vampiric gifts, the mind reading would come in handy there. All he had to do was watch the door and give a little psychic poke to whoever walked in. If it worked, great. If it didn't, even better. Perhaps John had some great powers of his own, but Lestat would have to wait to find out.
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