by Chrissy

[[ Preamble: I have never read an Anne Rice novel. So I hope I have not taken too many liberties with her character - Armand.]]

Armand had been drifting aimlessly for fifty empty years, ever since that day Louis had departed; ever since the Theatre of Vampires had burned to the ground. He'd tried various companions, of course, but they'd all turned out to be fools and he did not suffer fools lightly. He desired companionship of the intellectual kind. Mortals who believed vampires were loners were very mistaken, for Armand's desolate soul yearned for the intimacy of a true companion.

It was relatively simple to transform a mortal into the immortal form. What was not simple was finding someone worthy. Armand had quickly discovered an affinity and a kinship with Louis. With Louis by his side the centuries would have flown by in joyous discovery of this fine age of art, museums, and opera. But Louis had left. Louis despised him. And Armand was slowly sinking down a black hole of lonely melancholy. His good looks allowed him easy access to victims. He merely must glance at a beautiful woman - or man for that matter - and they would be his for the night. Even the pursuit of prey was effortless. He ached for companionship and he yearned for the stimulation of challenge.

And lately he'd actually experienced queer physical symptoms of ill health. Depression had settled over him like a somber black glove and he longed to be free of it. He traveled about Europe, but bored quickly and soon found himself back in France. He purchased a large house outside of Paris and took on a staff of employees who knew better than to ask awkward questions, who took the rich wages he paid and went about his bidding and kept their mouths shut about their dark master.

Armand had heard accounts of a witch in the area. People spoke in hushed tones of the strength and potency of her spells. Interested, Armand asked questions and learned of her whereabouts. He decided to pay this witch a visit. Maybe she could save him from this despondency that was overtaking his existence. At worst it would make for an interesting evening - at best, the witch might offer a cure.

He traveled by foot through a dense wooded area far from the lights of Paris. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, but Armand's magnificent vampire eyes allowed him easy vision as he strode through aged trees, the ground beneath his feet thick and spongy with fallen leaves. Unlike a mortal, he felt no fear. He was stronger than any forest creature that dared come near.

He arrived at the lair of the witch. It was merely a cave, crudely dug in a hillside beneath the roots of a centuries old oak tree. Its roots formed the arched doorway through which he entered. The rounded cave reeked of dank earth and rotted tree roots, its ceiling and walls thick with dead and dying wood. All about him, shelves hung heavy with glass bottles containing all manner of ghastly ingredients. He looked around for Mme. Sorrel, the illustrious witch, but all he spied was a mere girl. At first he thought she was a child, but then he realized she was a young woman.

"Where is Mme. Sorrel?" he asked angrily, throwing back his cape and stomping his cane on the dirt floor. "I had an appointment with her for midnight."

The girl shrugged. "She is gone monsieur, she will return soon."

Armand felt anger rise in his throat. How dare this witch stand him up. "Who are you?" he demanded of the girl. He peered at her carefully. What a strange creature she was. Everything about her appeared silvery and shimmering as if moonlight emitted from her very being. Her long, almost white hair shone and glistened, even though there was no source of light in the dark cave. It hung in pale waves down to her knees. He realized she was extremely beautiful. Her large, wide-spaced eyes glowed green and radiant. Her lips were pale, but well shaped, round and full. The beautiful head sat upon a long slender neck, and Armand's amber eyes searched and found the throbbing vein rich with blood beneath its silky smoothness. She wore a simple sheath of gossamer thinness; so fine was its material he could freely view the naked body beneath. And an excellent body it was. Full, high breasts. A flat, smooth stomach. A soft crop of blond and curly pubic hair. Long slender legs. She was a fine creature, no doubt about it.

"I am Chloe," she said, her voice as whispery and silvery as her very entity. "I am servant to Mme. Sorrel."

Armand's eyes traveled down and he saw that she was chained by the ankle to a metal ring securely affixed to the wall of the cave. Her slim ankle was bloodied and bleeding from the cruel hard metal that so confined it.

The sight of blood usually excited Armand. But he felt nothing except contempt for the witch that kept this beautiful girl so callously chained in a dark cave.

He moved to her side and lifted the small delicate foot in his hand. He studied the metal that encased her so completely. It was a strange substance, for it felt warm and smooth in his hand.

"It's a spell," she said in a voice so light. "You cannot break a spell. I am captured here for all time until I grow old and cannot be of service to Mme. Sorrel. Only then will I be set free."

"It's monstrous!" cried Armand in outrage. He must speak to this witch the minute she returned. This gorgeous maiden must be set free. He could not explain his sudden compassion, for compassion was not a sensation that came easily to him. But it became of utmost importance that he do something about such an intolerable situation.

He placed her foot back to the ground and stood before her. They were extremely close. His eyes ran across her beautiful face.

"Are you mortal?" he asked, because he did not experience the customary thirst for blood at her nearness.

"I am, monsieur," she replied with a smile. Her white teeth glistened. "But I know that you are not. I know that you are one of the immortals. I know that you are a vampire."

"How do you know these things?"

"Mme. Sorrel confides in me. I am a prisoner here. So she tells me everything. I am her confidant. I even know your name - it's Armand."

Armand smiled at her. "And I know, monsieur," she went on in that silvery voice of hers "That you are the most handsome man I have ever seen."

Armand's smiled grew wider. "Oh, and you have seen many men in your short life?"

She joined him in the smile. Then her face became serious. "I will never know the joy of a man."

Armand again experienced overwhelming sympathy. He must get this girl out of this situation immediately. Once more he took the metal chain in his hands and growled deep in his chest. With all his terrible strength he tried to break the metal apart.

She laughed at him. "It's a spell," she said again. "Even you, Armand, cannot break a spell."

He stood up, his face inches from hers. It was so strange, this feeling of empathy. This absence of thirst.

"Actually," she went on, her breath warm on his face, "you can help me."

"Tell me, for I must help."

"You are a vampire, are you not? You have the power to create those in your own form. I beg of you, monsieur, I beg you, transform me into an immortal. Only then will I have the strength to break this wicked spell."

Armand looked at her carefully, "I cannot break the chain, Chloe. A vampire cannot break the metal links. You said that yourself."

She smiled confidently, "If I am a vampire, I will break it – never worry."

"You have no idea of what you ask. I will speak with Mme. Sorrel when she returns," Armand declared with aplomb. He moved away from her. He couldn't think clearly with her so close.

"No I beg you. I beg you with everything I have," she cried her voice rising hysterically, her hand clutching his arm and pulling him back to her. "I cannot take one more minute of this existence."

Armand sighed. Her closeness was becoming cloying. Even though he had gorged that evening before coming here, an overpowering thirst instantly settled upon him. Her blood emanated so rich, so sweet, so tempting. He must drink! He must drink now! With an animal growl he took her into his arms. She was light and soft and beautiful. He lowered his mouth to her neck, his sharp fangs pierced the vein and rich blood gushed into his mouth. He drank deeply, but stopped before she might die. As he released her she fell to the ground in a heap.

"You must drink of me now," he said. With a razor sharp fingernail he sliced a vein in his wrist and put it to her mouth. She surprised him with her vigour. Her mouth closed about his open wound and she sucked noisily and hungrily. An angry snarl sounded deep in Armand's throat. She was taking too much of him, he had to yank her long hair in an attempt to break free from her fierce grip. With clutch of hair in his hands he flung her across the room and inspected the wound on his wrist.

As he watched the lesion closed and healed. He stared at her. He knew she would begin to feel real pain. It would be the last time she would ever experience physical pain.

Her body began to writhe and shake, her animal wails filling the night air. But it did not last as long as usual, and within minutes she stood strongly before him. He looked at her face. The features appeared crueler, older, wiser. She was still beautiful, but she no longer appeared vulnerable, no longer a sweet innocent child.

"Armand, my love," she cried holding her arms to him. "At last I have you here, my equal. At last I stand before you as strong as you. Stronger even."

He took a step back. "What do you mean, stronger?"

"Well," she laughed gaily, "I am the combination of witch and vampire. Surely that is more powerful than a mere vampire?"

Armand realized his terrible mistake. "You are Mme. Sorrel?" he queried softly.

"Of course I am my darling Armand. And I have loved you for all centuries. I have followed your life. I have lingered through the slow passage of time, waiting patiently for my powers to increase so that they might match yours. I have traveled and I have learned much of witchcraft." She looked at him, her eyes hungry and glowing " Armand, my love, I adore you. I want you. I ache for you. I love you."

She moved eagerly across the floor toward him, he noticed the chain no longer bound her ankle and she stepped freely, almost floating above the earth. She came close and looked up into his eyes. "I love you," she said again. "I love your amber eyes, I treasure those exquisite lips. I cherish your hair, so long, so dark, so rich. I worship your strong body, so elegant, so sensual. I want you to possess me, Armand. I've wanted it for all ages, ever since I first saw you."

Armand laughed softly. "Possess you? How can I possess you? I have possessed you in the only way a vampire can." Yet as he said the words he sensed a primeval sensuous ache of sexual desire within his loins the like of which he had not experienced for eons. Not since he himself was a mortal.

"Have you put a spell on me?" he asked. She was so close. Desire coursed through him. Chloe's breathing was rapid. She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. To his surprise he found himself opening his mouth to allow her tongue entry. His fangs had smoothed away, their sharpness gone for now. His arms clutched the frail body to him. He could feel the smooth warm nakedness beneath his hands. He must have her. He must take her. Sexual desire filled every fibre of his being. The kiss became urgent, base, animal-like; their bodies straining together.

Armand began ripping at the too tight confines of his clothes. His sharp nails tore at fabric in a mad attempt to be free of restricting attire until he stood naked before her. Chloe's emerald eyes glowed as they slid over his body.

"You are truly beautiful, my love," she said softly. She took his hand in her own and led him across the cave. Armand's eyes widened in surprise for a bed appeared from the shadows, its enticing comfort tempting him to lie down amongst its softness.

"No, no, my darling," Chloe laughed as Armand climbed upon her body, his impatience so obvious. "We must take this slowly. I've waited so long for you."

They kissed slowly. The kiss continued, but the passage of time was difficult to define. Armand wondered how long he had lain here kissing and caressing her. It seemed like forever. But as he wondered this, her strong fingers curled around his firmness and she stroked him eagerly.

"Oh! you're so big and hard, my love. Enough kissing. I want you inside me now." She shifted beneath him. Armand's hunger for her knew no bounds. He yearned for the moist confines of her to close tightly around his arousal. The squeezing sensation as he entered was delicious. He began moving within her, animal grunts emitting from his throat. Her long slim legs wrapped around his torso, her arms held him tightly.

"Faster, Armand," she cried, "faster, deeper, stronger - never stop."

He straightened his arms, the muscles rigid and taunt, his back arched, his groin joined with hers. As he thrust above her he looked down into her beautiful face alive with hungry pleasure. His hips rammed vigorously, ecstasy making him mad and wild. Armand had never known such rapture. He was at one with a woman, a witch. With a gasp, he filled her with his warm spurting juices and fell against her moist breasts, exhausted. But Chloe did not release him from her clutches.

"Again, my love" she cried holding him tightly. "Again!"

He lifted his head to look at her, "Again! Are you mad?" he could not catch his breath. Absolute fatigue washed through him.

She slapped his face angrily. "Do it again! I want you to do it again. I demand it!"

"I am spent, my dear, " Armand laid back against the satin pillow. "Unless you can conjure up a spell, I cannot do it again. Not for a while anyway. And if you slap me once more I will hit you." He glared into her eyes. "Hard."

She sat up and pouted. "I didn't know this."

"Didn't know what?"

"That a man is so fragile. I want more, but I must wait. It's so unfair."

He laughed and took her into his arms. He kissed her forehead. She made him laugh and he had not laughed in an age. "Life is unfair," he said.

"But surely this is death?" she replied.

"Well, death is even more unfair."

With a sigh she joined him in slumber and together they slept as the moon made its passage across a dark sky. The sound of birds in their morning chorus awoke Armand. He sat up in the bed in alarm, his frightened eyes watching as dappled sunlight spread its evil way across the dirt floor toward him. The roots of the huge tree above them offered no protection and allowed the awful sunlight to travel within the cave.

He leapt from the bed with a cry and pressed his shivering naked body against the wall. The orange glow moved closer, he could feel its dreadful warmth.

His shrieks awoke Chloe. "Armand, how uncouth of you to wake me this way," she grumbled, rubbing sleep from her green eyes.

"The sun! The sun! It will kill us!" cried Armand, his voice rising hysterically.

"No it won't," replied Chloe calmly. "You have my protective blood in you. You can walk in the sun, Armand." With this she tumbled from the bed and sauntered toward the speckled daylight. Armand shrieked and covered his eyes, expecting her to turn instantly to ashes. But the sun did not harm her. She walked from the cave and into the light, its golden glow caressing her white skin. "See," she turned to him and held out her hand. "Come into the sunlight, my beautiful Armand, join me in its warmth."

He crouched in fear, cowering with dread. Death was seconds away.

Chloe took his hand and firmly yanked him into the oncoming light. He screamed in horror closing his eyes and waited for the terrible burning to begin. But it never happened. Instead he sensed a glorious warmth caressing his naked body. He opened his eyes and looked down to see his hand in the bright sunshine. As he watched the white skin gleamed pink and alive. Tentatively he moved his whole body into the light. It was warm, it was wonderful, it embraced him with its glow.

"I can walk in the daylight," he murmured in amazement. He looked up at the hot sun as it sat amid a brilliant blue sky. His body heated and warmed. He sucked the mild air and filled his cold lungs.

Chloe was watching him through narrowed eyes. She slid a hungry glance across his splendid naked form, savouring the broad shoulders, slim hips, strong thighs. His dark hair hung to his waist in glorious curls. With a groan she put both hands between her legs and clutched at herself urgently.

"Armand," she murmured hoarsely, "The sight of you makes me wet."

He turned to face her. "And it must be obvious what the sight of you does to me."

Advancing toward her he pushed her down onto the soft blanket of leaves. He moved on top of her soft warm body and roughly he entered her.

"Oh! It's so glorious when we are joined this way," she gasped as he thrust into her. As desire mounted she screamed aloud into the misty morning air sending flocks of startled birds flapping toward the sky.

They climaxed together, rolling in the warm leaves, which clung to their damp bodies.

They lay for a while before Armand's acute vampire ears picked up the sound of horses nearby. A carriage moved not too far away. Jumping to his feet he grabbed her hand.

"Armand!" she laughed as he raced, dragging her through the thick woods, "Are you mad? What has possessed you? Is it the heat from the sun?

"Look," he laughed pointing to a carriage fast approaching. With a joyful shriek they surprised the four aristocratic occupants obviously returning to their country mansions following a night of drink and debauchery in Paris. They swooped upon the terrified men and devoured the plentiful, hot, luscious blood. They gorged and drank every single last drop.

Armand kissed Chloe's lips, tasting the sweet blood she had just consumed.

"What fools!" she grinned nastily looking at the drained bodies. "What fops, what dolts. Why is it that the rich are such boors?"

"They are more succulent than the poor, my dear."

Hand in hand, they strolled back through the woods, the dappled sunlight playing on naked skin.

"I'm impressed," Armand remarked teasingly "Your induction into to the ways of a vampire has been effortless. You seem to relish it, in fact."

"And, Armand, my love," she returned with an evil grin "your re-acquaintance with - shall we say - carnal delights has been met with equal gusto."

"Vampires that copulate in the sun!" he took her into his arms and whirled her around.

"Nothing can harm us. We are gods! Are we not?" she laughed, throwing back her head as he spun her.

"No - hardly gods," he muttered, returning her to the ground.

"We will be together for always?" she asked intently, her eyes glinting.

"If you behave yourself!"

"I wonder what the future holds? We have much to teach each other. We have a great deal to learn. We should travel. I have heard much of the New World. I want to go there, Armand. A new life befitting our new powers."

The New World! It sounded tempting! Louis! Lestat! He was more powerful than Lestat now.

"I'll have my man book us passage on the next ship," he declared.

She chortled loudly. "Book passage on a ship! Vampires have need of such sluggish transport?"

"Ahh! You travel by broomstick, no doubt?"

"I see you are a martyr to folklore, Armand. I will ignore that statement. But I thought vampires could move through the air?"

"We can, but it exhausts us. And a journey across an ocean would be impossible. You will enjoy a sea voyage, my dear. The salty air gives one an appetite."

"We should clothe ourselves first, don't you think?"

He smiled and kissed her. She fascinated him. She made him smile. She had given him the fabulous gift of warmth and light. He had found his companion - - for now.

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