Everything dull, could hardly crawl out of coffin. Armand had warned Lestat about turning Nicolas. His body, his mind, it just couldn’t handle the vampirism. Some just couldn’t, and usually die; either by another vampire, or driving themselves to madness. And yet, somehow Nicolas had survived this long.. well past his own expectations. Lestat’s precious Nicky.. all for the taking really if he truly wanted.
Yes. He had played manager for him before. Armand had connections upon connections in the world and now the new. If only Nicky still had the love of those things, if he could even continue forward. Armand should have killed him years ago, and yet here he was, offering him his rich blood just for a bit of stability.
Perhaps this will help then.
It would, for a while. It would at least give him some strength and energy. He watched him sup, reaching out to run his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and out of the way, letting a soft groan escape every now and again. His eyes even rolled back for a moment. Feeding always felt good for their kind, giving and receiving, unless one took too much.
And with these feedings came memory. Armand bestowed upon him the memory of when he first heard Nicolas play violin, and the joy he felt at hearing such talent. He gave him another memory, one of himself. It was an ancient memory that somehow slipped past — one of running through open fields as a boy, the warmth of sun on his face, and then the smell of spices.
“ That’s enough. “ He said with a slight stagger to his voice and a gentle tug to Nicky’s hair, another soft deterrent to make him halt his drink.
