‘You come out at night,
that’s when the energy comes.
The dark side’s light
And the vampires roam.’
‘Building a Mystery.’ Sarah McLachlan.
He couldn’t bear this any longer, seeing his best mate beat himself up like this. Ever since the break up with Colby it was as if a light had gone out in Darren’s life. Daniel hated looking into those beautiful blue eyes, normally so alive and seeing nothing. Nothing except dead hollows and regrets.
He had to do something and now he thought he’d found it. He had been surfing and, as you do, had followed one link to another, intrigued to see what else their fans were into apart from them. Not surprisingly he had very quickly came upon some Vampire Chronicles links.
‘Darren?’ he turned to his band mate who was sprawled untidily in a nearby armchair half-heartedly reading a newspaper.
‘Mmm?’ Darren’s standard response to most things these days.
‘Have you ever heard of something called ‘Nocturne?’
‘Yeah,’ So a one sided conversation it was to be then.
‘Fancy going?’
‘Not really.’ The singer still didn’t look up from his paper.
‘Why not? I should of thought it’d be right up your street.’
‘Oh sure – we get recognised, we get mobbed, we beat a hasty retreat. Definitely my idea of a perfect evening.' sarcasm dripped from his voice.
‘Don’t be so melodramatic you little diva,’ Dan was really beginning to wish he hadn’t bothered. ‘It’s a masked ball so no-one will recognise you.’
‘Oh.’
‘So….’
‘Ok – whatever. Anything for a quiet life.’
//Don’t over excite yourself now will you.// Daniel turned back to the laptop and called up the details for obtaining tickets.
Two weeks later they were on a plane for New Orleans.
//Well if this doesn’t cheer Darren up nothing will// The guitarist thought wryly as they walked down the driveway leading up to the huge French style mansion that was to be the setting for the evening’s revelries.
In fact the singer had appeared to brighten up considerably in the last few days. Choosing their costumes had been fun. At least the genre had been decided for them, which narrowed it down a bit.
‘Hmm, character or not?’ Darren had mused.
‘No!’ Daniel told him firmly, ‘One Lestat in the world is enough.’
‘…and what makes you think I would go as Lestat?’ his friend asked indignantly, to which the younger man had merely rolled his eyes. Wasn’t it self-evident?
‘Alright, alright, no characters,’ he had conceded, ‘I anticipate a glut of ‘finely tailored’ black coats and silk ties anyway.’
In the end they had decided on the obligatory black leather trousers for Darren, //no surprises there then// Dan thought. They teamed it up with a deep blue silk shirt and finally a long velvet coat that reached practically to the ground. To offset the length the singer had insisted on a pair of slightly heeled boats. The crisp click, click they gave out coupled with the satisfying swish of the coat as he paraded round his room had made Darren very happy indeed.
For himself they had picked out a pair of the softest deep grey moleskin trousers and an open-necked white dress shirt with long lace cuffs that came down out of the sleeves of his deep claret velvet jacket to practically cover his fingers. The guitarist had painted his fingernails black for the occasion and they had found a large but not too showy dress ring that now just peeped out from the lace adorning his right hand.
At Darren’s behest they both wore black eyeliner, red lipstick and used panstick to lighten their skintone several shades. Daniel had been a bit hesitant at first but had to admit that the overall effect had been striking, dramatic even.
‘At least we still have reflections.’ He had joked as his dark haired friend checked his appearance for the umpteeth time.
The masks were simple and uncluttered covering just the eyes and the tops of their noses. Gold for Daniel, silver for the Lestat wannabe. They had slipped them on when they reached the ornate gates fronting the gravel drive. Other ‘guests’ were also arriving, milling around the grounds, greeting familiar faces from previous years. It was a perfect night for such gathering. The sky was clear, yet being New Orleans the air still retained some temperature. A multitude of burning stars had come out to play and the harvest moon full, fat and yellow hung low in the late October sky. It’s ghostly light lending a eerie glow to the nightscape.
Neither of them noticed the two men who went past them into the house. Neither of them realised that the two had been walking behind them for the last ten minutes, long before they had even come near the gates or that like them one was dark-haired and the other light. Nor that at least one of them had the ability to read their minds and had been doing so quite freely.
A faint smile caught at the edge of Dan’s mouth as he heard the music streaming out of the building in front of them. Beside him Darren froze.
‘What’s up?’ he asked concerned.
The singer has just gone several shades paler if that was possible under all that make up. ‘Can’t you hear it?’
‘Yeah – its one of ours,’ a broad grin bursting across the younger man’s face, ‘you should be flattered.’
‘It’s not just any song,’ Darren whispered, ‘It’s the song.’
Daniel knew instantly what he was referring to, had known the minute he had heard the tune hurtling towards him.
‘Carry on Dancing,’ they had once said in an interview, ‘the scene is just before midnight…a full moon at a masquerade ball…avant-garde strings, timpani and even castanets create the gothic feel of the song, inspired by Anne Rice’s vampire chronicles. The feel is grandiose and theatrical. We feel this song has a definite sound that we like to think of as our own. We see this feel creeping up a lot in our new work.’
And here it was, the fantasy about to become real. What if it wasn’t as they had imagined?
‘Come on,’ the guitarist coaxed, ‘let’s go see how it measures up.’ With that he grabbed the reluctant Darren by the hand and half-pulled, half-dragged him towards the house.
‘Quick, before the track finishes.’ He urged.
Taking a deep breath the older man allowed himself to be hauled up the wide flight of steps to the main door and led through.
‘…You’re never safe ‘till you see the dawn…
and if the clock strikes past midnight
the hope is gone.
To move under… the moonlight…’’
‘Whoa!’ Darren audibly caught his breath. The scene before him was all that he had envisaged when they wrote the song and then some. The glass chandeliers blazing high up above them, the rich velvet drapes that hung ceiling to floor. The candles burning in every nook and cranny. The deep red roses in wrought iron fixtures, the potent fragrance of incense lingering in the air and the people. Everywhere the people. Silks, cottons, velvet and leather. Reds, purples, blacks and golds. Every style of fashion from the last five centuries. Everyone masked. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined this and pounding out above the mix of voices was their song, their lyrics, their music.
‘…There’s a magic only two can tell,
in the dark night
ultraviolet is a wicked spell….’
Gradually he became aware that Daniel still had hold of him by the hand and turning to his band mate flashed him a grateful smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘A sheer fluke I assure you, but I must admit that I couldn’t have engineered it any better if I had.’
‘No thank you for suggesting this, for forcing me to come, for just being you, for looking out for me.’ It was said lightly but Daniel knew that it came from the heart.
‘Hey man no problem,’ he gave Darren’s hand a reassuring squeeze, ‘just glad to see you smiling again.’ The track came to an end. ‘Now how about we check out the bar? A guy could die of thirst round here.’ And letting go of Darren he began to weave a path towards the far corner and the bar.
The singer trailed after him, there were too many people here to lose Dan just yet. Sadly he recognised the creeping disappointment that had returned when hand contact had been broken, wondering what had made Daniel hold on for so long in the first place.
‘Full moon,’ he muttered to himself. After all there was no way that he could ever have known the real reason that he split from his wife, could he? No, not even Colby knew for sure, though Darren suspected that she had had her suspicions. It was his own guilty secret. His alone and he intended it to stay that way.
Daniel glanced around the room, searching out Darren. It hadn’t taken long, the pull of the dance floor proved too great and Daniel’s reticence too frustrating, so after gaining assurances from his band mate that he would join him later, Darren had left him standing by the bar, content for the moment to merely spectate.
He spotted him over the other side of the room talking animatedly with a blond-haired man. He seemed happy enough, they were obviously engaged in a deep discussion judging by the amount of arm waving and gesticulating that was occurring. Probably another musician or media type, Darren seemed to attract people like that, drew them to him like magnets.
‘Lost someone.’ A soft voice said next to him.
‘Emm, no, just checking he’s ok.’ Daniel turned round to face the source of the voice.
He found himself face to face with a young man of about his age with sleek black hair that had been gracefully tied back in a ponytail. A pair of earnest green eyes peered out at him from behind a black silk mask. He had thought his eyes were bright but they had nothing on this guy’s. It was almost as if they radiated some sort of supernatural power burning out from deep within.
‘He is fine.’ The stranger told him. ‘The man he is with, he is a er, friend of mine. He will make sure he comes to no harm.’
Daniel caught a faint trace of an accent. What was it? Spanish, Italian, French? //Oh well, Darren was smiling that was the main thing.//
Remembering his manners he turned and introduced himself. ‘I’m Daniel by the way.’ He said offering his hand.
‘Louis,’ the dark haired man replied taking the proffered hand.
//Oh no – not another one.// Dan stifled a grin. There must be at least a dozen Louis impersonators scattered through out the room, though if he remembered correctly from the small sections that Darren had forced him to read, this guy had managed to copy the look pretty accurately with his beautifully tailored but simply understated black clothes. And he appeared to be about the right height and build too, slim and graceful, just as he was described. Even his hand felt cold and marble like as it shook his own.
‘So Daniel, will you allow me to buy you a drink?’ his new found friend asked.
‘Sure, why not. Darren looks like he’s doing just fine without me.’ And he allowed Louis to draw him back in the direction of the bar.
*****
‘I know, like how wrong was that, fancy casting a 34 year old brown haired Spaniard in the role of a 17 year old red head who had grown up in Russia and then Italy.’
Darren was really warming to his subject matter now. His band mate had only ever shown a passing interest in the books, whereas the blonde haired man currently standing opposite him appeared to know them inside out. It felt good to finally be able to dissect them with an equal.
‘You know your texts well mon aime, then you will know who I am?’ the man asked.
‘Well judging by the colour of your hair and your grey velvet coat I would have to say Lestat, circa Carmel Valley.’ And he allowed himself a small smile as remembered Daniel’s words to him a few days earlier.
‘Tres bon, you are very observant.’
Darren had to admit that the man was good, by far the best Lestat he had seen all evening, he even had the French accent down pat.
‘Darren,’ he returned. What the heck it was a common enough name and if ‘Lestat’ hadn’t realised who he was yet chances are he wouldn’t. After all he didn’t exactly look like a typical fan.
Getting fed up with Daniel’s reluctance to dance he had struck out on his own, it was too good an opportunity to miss, to dance here, like this with people all dressed up looking as if they had just stepped out of the pages of his favourite fantasy. Besides Dan had been right no one had recognised them yet, he could really cut loose and no one would be any the wiser. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed the social life until tonight. Had he really shut himself away so much?
Something about this guy had drawn Darren to him and in silent consent they had made their way across the dance floor towards each other. After a couple of tracks the stranger had indicated that they move to the side where normal conversation was at least a little more possible.
Standing there, arguing the finer points of book vs film, //as if there could ever be any competition,// Darren thought, he found himself constantly being brought back to Lestat’s eyes. It was like looking at himself in the mirror. Pure, drowning pool blue behind the red silk mask they reflected all that the singer’s had once held. A love of life, a wayward glint mischievous bordering on the downright wicked. Yet a deep need to be accepted, to be loved, to be taken just for who he was instead of the flamboyant stage persona he found easier to adopt. This man could have been his twin.
During the course of conversation he found out that he was a fellow musician, a fellow singer no less. As obsessed with the chronicles as Darren, he had taken it one step further and even named his rock band after the fiction group in ‘The Vampire Lestat.’
‘So Darren,’ Lestat rolled the name around his tongue, accenting the ‘R’s in a way only the French can do. ‘You are unhappy, n’est pas?’ he reached out and wrapped his hand around the singer’s wrist.
For some reason Darren didn’t feel like pulling away, it reminded him of the pressure of Daniel’s fingers from earlier.
//Daniel,// he thought with a start, //there was striking out and there was abandoning, maybe he had finished his drink by now and was looking for him//
‘Don’t worry mon cher, your friend is fine, see,’ the wannabe vampire pointed to the two men standing over by the bar, ‘he is with Louis, he will be alright.’
Darren allowed himself to relax slightly. If Daniel was having a good time then that was all that counted. He half-suspected that he hadn’t been as enthusiastic about this trip as he had made out and was doing it all merely to cheer him up. For this Darren would be eternally grateful, it was such a typical Dan thing to do.
Dan. Dan , the very reason for his latest bout of melancholy. If only he knew. Dan, the reason his marriage had ended, the reason he had decided that he couldn’t live with the sham anymore – it just wasn’t fair on Colby. All the time being with her and wanting to be with his band mate instead. Making love to her and wishing that it was Daniel’s body that he was touching, smelling, tasting.
‘Darren, you okay?’ the grip on his wrist tightened. ‘Your friend is very special to you isn’t he?’ Lestat’s voice was low and confiding.
//Oh great was he really that transparent?// ‘That obvious?’ Darren sighed deeply.
‘Only to me, believe me he has no idea how you feel.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ the singer could not stop the bitterness creeping into his voice.
‘because if he knew how you felt do you really think that he would be doing that?’
Darren looked on dumbstruck as Daniel reached out and swept back a lock of Louis’ hair that had slipped forward, free of its satin ribbon.
Before the guitarist had time to withdraw, Louis caught his hand and bringing it to his lips, very lightly kissed the palm. To add insult to injury Darren saw that Daniel then made no attempt to remove it.
‘Oh.’ He was visible crestfallen. He hadn’t even known Dan was interested in men. He had always been so straight. Maybe he was drunk, maybe he should go and rescue him, maybe it should be him cradling that hand, kissing the knuckles, provocatively placing each black varnished finger in his mouth and then sucking on each one.
He had made up his mind to go over and confront his friend when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder restraining him.
‘Don’t. It’s too late.’ And Darren watched horrified as Louis inclined his head towards the grand staircase. He saw Daniel bite his bottom lip hesitantly before nodding his assent.
//Well, no translation needed there Danny boy – you’re coming over loud and clear// and he turned his head away as he saw Daniel glance back in his direction Felt the harsh, angry tears begin to well up behind his lids. Unable to contain them any longer all the hurt and frustration of the past six months re-surfaced. Just when he thought that he had no more tears to cry here he was threatening to bawl like a baby in front of a virtual stranger.
Instinctively Lestat leant forward and caught one of the escaping tears on his fingertip. Tenderly he cupped Darren’s face and pulling him towards him gently brushed his lips with his own. The singer gasped not so much from the kiss but from the actual feel of the other’s lips, so soft and yet so cold. Recovering quickly he leant in and placing his hands behind the blond man’s head returned the kiss with a demanding born of equal parts passion and despair.
The world swooned around him, the kiss was like molten chocolate, sweet and consuming. He caught the faint trace of something he couldn’t quite place, something metallic but any further thoughts were pushed from his mind as Lestat invaded his mouth, pushing his tongue deep into the singer’s mouth, searching, exploring, claiming every inch. Darren responded in kind.
Closing his eyes it was as if his consciousness was no longer part of his body but a separate entity transported far beyond the mere flesh and bone. Sucking roughly on the other man’s upper lip he felt something sharp pierce his tongue. //Oh this guy was good, he had even had his teeth filed down into fangs// and somehow the thought of his blood now pooling on the wannabe vampire’s lips was one of the most erotic images he had ever encountered.
‘Arghh!,’ Darren moaned in quiet frustration . His cries drowned out by the pulsing beat of the nearby dance floor. All rational reasoning left him, all he could focus on was the beautiful creature now holding him; the thought that somehow, someway he had to have him, taste him, feel that cold, alabaster skin against his own. Daniel could go to hell, this is what he needed, wanted, must possess. The urgency overwhelmed him.
He felt the blond man’s arms encircle him, felt the pressure of his hands in the small of his back, the friction of the fabric of their clothes as they rubbed up against each other. Stars and planets took shape in an exploding kaleidoscope of colour behind his closed lids as Lestat moved one hand round to languidly caress his nipples.
‘Yes, he murmured breathlessly as Lestat slowly pulled back releasing his captive’s mouth, keeping his hand firmly on Darren’s chest.
‘What do you say we take this somewhere a little more private petit.’
Darren could only nod numbly. What was happening to him, he had never felt like this and yet this stranger knew exactly what he wanted, exactly what to do to turn him on.
‘But perhaps we should exercise a little more discretion, yes?’
At that moment Darren was past caring but could see the logic the other’s words.
‘Sure, whatever you think is best.’ Though he doubted that anyone would bat an eyelid if they both just stripped naked and fell on each other right here in the middle of the ballroom.
‘There is a room upstairs, turn left and it is the third door on the right. We won’t be disturbed. Give me a few minutes and then make your way there.’ With that his silken angel dropped a light kiss on the singer’s forehead and disappeared off into the melee of gyrating bodies
//What are you doing?// Daniel’s inner voice broke through as he nodded in response to Louis’ invitation.
//No,// the guitarist thought ignoring it, //for once I am not going to think about this, not going to analyse it, I’m just going to act, I’m done with analysing.// and he started towards the staircase but he found himself unable to help looking back to where Darren was.
Reason told him to go and talk to him, to explain how he felt. Lust told him to keep walking, keep following this entrancing creature before him. This man with the raven hair, the iridescent green eyes, this man who was obviously as attracted to him as he was to him. Unlike Darren who had never shown the slightest bit of interest in him that way.
Why should he, up until recently he had been married, he himself was engaged, no reason at all anyone should know that just occasionally he preferred the sort of ‘interaction’ that only being with a man could bring or that for Darren he would quite happily make it more that just occasionally. For Darren he was willing to make it a lifetime. Darren was different, on so many levels Darren was his soulmate and he knew that in one way or another he had loved Darren from the moment they had met. But he also knew it was pointless and had therefore never pursued it any further than the boundaries of best mate and business partner.
Darren could be pretty tactile but Daniel knew when to stop. For a moment he thought back and cursed himself for indulging in holding onto Darren’s hand for just a little longer than was strictly necessary when they had entered the party that night. Had Darren noticed? Did he care if he had?
//Darren is doing just fine // the little voice persisted. And truly it did seem as if the singer was happy, deep in conversation with Louis’ friend. He wouldn’t be missed just for half an hour.
He was three beers down and reason was beginning to lose the battle. In the end lust won out, as he knew it would and from deep within, buried beneath all the layers of his subconscious, came the unbidden thought. //In the dark, one dark haired man is much like another.// Maybe if he closed his eyes real tight he could have what he so desperately longed for and Daniel forced his attention away from the two figures at the edge of the dance floor back to Louis.
In doing so he completely missed the look of sheer agony and disappointment on his friend’s face and Lestat’s move to enfold and comfort the heartbroken singer.
Reaching the top of the staircase Louis led him a little way down the hallway. Stopping outside one of the rooms he produced a key from his pocket and unlocking the door ushered Daniel in.
The room was decorated in the same old style colonial as the rest of the house appeared to be. All the lights were off except a small side lamp. The main source of illumination came from the dozens of milky coloured candles arranged on every conceivable flat surface, their glowing wicks throwing shadows up and around the two men.
Set against one wall and directly facing the door was the bed; an impressive oak four poster, complete with white muslin drapes and a heavy brocade throw covering it.
Louis motioned for Daniel to go over and sit on it, then said rather sheepishly. ‘I need to umm, go and er, powder my nose, make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.’ And with that he gave Daniel a rather guilty look before making his exit.
//That was a bit odd.// Daniel thought but //Oh well, whatever.// Shrugging his shoulders he settled himself on the bed, moving up until he lounged with his back against the headboard. Leaning over he switched off the side lamp, the candles would provide more than enough light for what he and Louis intended doing, and besides it was more ‘atmospheric’ that way.
Closing the door softly behind him Louis walked a little further down the hallway to where Lestat was already waiting for him, hidden in the recess of an alcove.
‘All done?’ the elder vampire enquired.
‘Yes, I hope you are right about this Lestat.’
‘Don’t worry, when I was scanning their minds earlier all they could think of was each other. They were, as Mr Molloy would say ‘checking each other out.’ And it wasn’t the first time they had had such thoughts either.’
Louis had no choice to take him at his word and hope that this time Lestat’s meddling would not backfire as it had on so many other occasions.
‘Lestat, come away then, we have done all we can.’ And he gestured towards the staircase
‘Oh no my sweet, this is far too good to miss’
Louis saw from the look in Lestat’s eyes that his maker had absolutely no intention of following him what-so-ever ‘You really are incorrigible. Marius was right you truly are the brat prince.’ He scolded playfully.
‘and you wouldn’t have me any other way cher.’ Lestat said kissing his fledging lightly on the head.
‘Au reviour Louis.’ Lestat dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand, his attention already focused firmly back on the two mortals.
Eager not to be parted from those enticing lips for any longer than was strictly necessary, Darren waited the bare minimum before cautiously making his way up the stairs. Like a nervous schoolchild he counted off the doors before taking a deep breath and slowly turning the brass handle.
‘Louis?’
‘Lestat?’
‘Darren?’
‘Daniel!’
Daniel sat up and clicked back on the side lamp to see a very confused Darren standing in the doorway.
‘Jonesy, er what are you doing here?’ Darren asked not daring to meet his friend’s eyes.
‘Umm…waiting for someone…’ Daniel suddenly found the cuffs of his jacket incredibly interesting. ‘You?’
The hesitancy in the other’s voice said it all. ‘Ahh, looking for someone.’
Daniel risked a glance up at the singer’s face. ‘Ever had the feeling you’ve been setup?’
‘Yeah,’ a small grin crossed Darren’s face as he stepped into the room closing the door behind
him.
‘So what do we do now?’ he said finally plucking up the courage to meet Daniel’s eyes.
Daniel got up off of the bed and walked over to where the object of his affections stood. ‘Well I don’t know about you,’ he said reaching up and carefully removing Darren’s mask, ‘but I came up here to get laid by a beautiful man with black hair.’
Epilogue
Lestat resumed his place in the shadows, keeping out of sight as the two musicians passed him. ‘I do so love it when a plan comes together.’ He sighed to himself contentedly. Now he really must go and find Louis, tell him of their success and to get to him before Armand started playing his little games again.
He flashed briefly on the scene that had resulted last year when the auburn haired vampire had tried to make a move on his beautiful one and delicious shiver ran down his undead spine. As he remembered it the end result had not been pretty.