Chapter Text
New York, 2024
Since being turned, Daniel had been tuning into Vampire FM on the regular, mainly to bother Louis the same way your kid brother might pester you for attention.
“I take it you haven’t heard from my maker?” He asked, both out loud and on the vampire radio frequency. “Fucking asshole.” He muttered under his breath for good measure, still sore about how Armand had just upped and left him .
“I’m sorry you were burdened out of spite.”
Not quite out of spite, but Daniel didn’t say anything. Let Louis think what he wanted of Armand - the less those two had to do with each other, the better. Still, Daniel had hoped that the book tour would have drawn some kind of reaction - he’d figured Armand, being as dramatic as he was, wasn’t going to come and speak to him just because the book had dropped and was hitting the best-seller list - after all, that man knew how to hold a grudge . But he’d still hoped for a sign - still hoped that he might catch a glimpse of glowing eyes or a flash or dark curls stalking him on the book tour, during signings. Still hoped for something - anything.
Thankfully, Daniel hadn’t been counting on Armand approaching him.That would imply that Armand was capable of handling conflict - and Daniel knew better than anyone that he simply couldn’t, not when it came to someone that mattered.
So he had been keeping tabs, making his own inquiries.
The very first place Daniel went looking, once Louis had helped set him up for his new life as a vampire, was the Night Island.
There had always been something a bit unsettling about the Night Island - it had always felt like something out of a drug-induced fever dream, even when it had been inhabited and operational. But when Daniel went to visit it again as a vampire, it had clearly been abandoned for decades - very probably since 1985 - and now it looked like a straight-up horror-show. Weeds grew through the cracks in the concrete pavement; and the shops, bars and the casino that used to bustle with laughter and life now stared back at him like skulls, their windows smashed in like empty eyes, doors cracked like broken teeth. Even as a vampire, Daniel felt apprehensive being on the isle.
The worst thing was seeing the state of Hôtel Le Horla. It made Daniel unbearably sad. As much as the Night Island had always weirded him out (he’d never felt deserving of it, felt simultaneously crushed and sickened by the size of the gesture, uncertain of how to tell Armand he’d had it all wrong and couldn’t have possibly intended something this insane for him) he’d had good memories at Hôtel Le Horla.
Now, like the rest of the island, it looked more like the set of a ghost movie - and just like a ghost story, every moth-eaten room and damp corridor was haunted by memories of times gone by.
Armand wasn’t there. It wouldn’t have been too easy, really, for Armand to have been there. Still, Daniel had felt compelled to check.
And so after his trip to the Night Island, he went back to the drawing board. For the past year, the wall of Daniel’s living room looked like one of those murder maps on CSI or Criminal Minds - evidence boards, Daniel thought they were called, technically. Well, anyway, he had one of those now - only instead of trying to bring about justice, he was trying to catch a killer.
His lover.
What was it Louis had said? Eat, swim, pray - metronomic, my Rashid. Not Rashid. Armand. Armand was the one who was metronomic - too much of a control-freak to not have a routine, a set of strict habits that ordered his world and made sure his facade never cracked.
What habits might an off-the-rails-Armand have?
As it turned out - Fuck, eat, pray - was the answer. Immediately after Armand had abandoned him, Daniel had set up alerts for all news stories, from any part of the world, with the mention of death by exsanguination. As it turned out, in the eighteen months immediately following Armand’s flight from Dubai, there have been a disturbing number of them. He could reasonably attribute them to Armand, because although they were discovered in all four corners of the world, the victims all bore more than a passing resemblance to Daniel as a young man - lanky bodies, curly brown hair and blue eyes.
It was all more than a little disturbing, if Daniel stopped to think about it too much, which he didn’t.
The boys were all found in party locations - Ibiza, Berlin, Cancun, Rio, New York, Bangkok - all were found near clubs with enough drugs in their system to tranquillise an elephant and all were found drained of their blood, their death attributed to ‘death by misadventure’ even though no one could explain how their blood had been drained when there was no evidence of any wounds.
So. Fuck and eat - that much was clear. He didn’t have to guess what Armand might have been doing with those boys before their untimely deaths. If Daniel knew Armand - and he believed by now that he did - he knew Armand had likely been trying to bury his feelings in overwhelming sensation.
As a former addict, Daniel could relate.
The killings were accidental, of that Daniel was reasonably certain - a sign of Armand’s loss of control. All the boys were found posed - hands clasped across their chest with whatever cloth was nearby to cover their bodies, like a shroud. And of course, the bite marks had been healed. All signs of shame, remorse.
And what was a remorseful Armand likely to do?
Pray. Daniel didn’t quite have evidence for this, but he was willing to bet big bucks that after one of these deaths, Armand most likely fled to the nearest masjid.
But where was Armand now? The murders had died down. It had been months since Daniel had received an alert for the death of a curly-haired boy - that or Armand had gotten better at covering his tracks. Either way, it suggested an Armand who was in a slightly more stable frame of mind than he had been in the past year.
That or he was dead, an option that Daniel wouldn’t allow himself to entertain.
***
The next thing he did was hit up the Talamasca for their intel. He figured they owed him for everything they made him omit in Interview with the Vampire - besides, given all the little tidbits they’d fed him while he was in Dubai, it was clear that if they had a whole folder on Armand they clearly would have a whole folder on Daniel too, including that nebulous period between 1973-1985. He wondered if Armand knew just how extensive their intel was on him. His morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him one night and he’d ended up looking through the folders labelled “Forced Prostitution”, “Maker (Marius de Romanus)” and “Origins, Delhi”. He got through about half of it before he had to stop, his blood boiling over in anger, certain that if he ever met that Ancient Roman fuck-face - he’d kill him. And that all those who had had a hand in Armand’s suffering, if they were dead, deserved to be resurrected just so Daniel could fucking kill them too.
He stopped reading. As insanely curious as he was, it had felt wrong prying into Armand’s sordid past without Armand there. It would have to be something they did together, once he found him. If Armand wanted to.
Daniel texted Raglan James, screenshotting Armand’s folder.
Daniel~: got more where this came from?
RJ~: what are you asking for exactly?
Daniel~: if you’ve got the same on me, then I want it
Daniel~: freedom of information act and all. If you’ve got a folder or a box labelled “Daniel Molloy” then I think I deserve to know what’s in it
RJ~: we’re not associated with the US government and aren’t beholden to that act, but perhaps we can come to an agreement regardless.
Oh, fuck off thought Daniel. Whatever they had belonged to him by all rights - who were they to hoard little bits of his life? But he figured he could deal with that when the time came. For now the important thing is if he wanted to find Armand he would need all the data he could get his hands on. They hashed out the vague terms in which Daniel would keep Raglan abreast of vampire activity in exchange for access to anything pertaining to him in the Talamasca’s archives.
Daniel~: do you have any info on the whereabouts of the Vampire Armand?
RJ~: I wouldn’t look for him if I were you
RJ~: he’s become erratic
Yeah, no shit.
Daniel~: I’m aware
RJ~: last known location Berlin. After that he dropped off our radar, though we have agents keeping their eyes out for him
That was good enough for Daniel.
Daniel~: fine - when can I expect my dossier?
RJ~: we’ll send you a box. We’ve digital archives of all your correspondence and images. You can keep the physical copies
Gee, thanks, thought Daniel ungratefully as he logged off.
Berlin, 2024
The first sign that he had that he was on the right track, was when he landed in Berlin and by some miracle managed to get into Berghain.
There had been a makeshift memorial outside the club with flowers and photos for the boy that had died. Inside Daniel wasn’t fully sure what he was looking for - he just needed some clue that his hunch about the deaths were right. That Armand had indeed been through here and was responsible for the death of that poor kid.
Speaking of kids, the number of club-goers who had propositioned Daniel and called him daddy gave him whiplash. He felt like he’d fallen through some kind of weird fun-house mirror world, and he didn’t know how to explain to them that he actually wasn’t interested in that, for real. ‘Sorry kid, unless you’re psychotic and murderous and over five hundred years old it just doesn’t do it for me’ was probably not something any of these embryos wanted to hear.
It was in the bathrooms that Daniel got the confirmation he was looking for - he’d gone to wash his hands and as he looked up in the mirror his eyes met those of a frightened boy (visibly high and fucked up on something ) who audibly gasped and stumbled back, mumbling something incoherent in German.
Daniel was on him in a second.
Slamming the kid up against the bathroom wall, he let his fangs slip.
“What do you know?” He demanded, like a common garden variety thug. He really needed to get Armand to teach him his trick with the Mind Gift, he really hated having to do this - threaten and overpower people the old fashioned way. It was so inelegant and vaguely demeaning.
The boy was crying, but stammered back in English.
“ Please don’t hurt me -”
“Tell me what you know and I won’t hurt you.”
“Your eyes -”
“You’ve seen someone with eyes like mine?”
The boy nodded, hiccuping and sobbing.
“Tell me about them.”
“He killed Felix.”
Poor Felix . Daniel spared him a quick thought of condolences for his unfortunate German doppelganger.
“Who killed Felix?”
“The man - he was like you, with the eyes and the teeth -”
“What did he look like, this man?”
“Please don’t kill me…”
“What did he look like? ”
“I - I don’t know. Beautiful. Ugly . Eyes like a demon - cold, so cold… ”
“Elegant guy? Dark skin, black curls?”
The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
The boy cried harder.
“Yes, yes he was a demon , he killed Felix - he told him he loved him and then he ate him -”
Jesus, Armand.
Daniel thought he must have really lost it if he hadn’t even thought to tie up loose ends and kill his witness.
Daniel let the boy go.
“Go. Don’t tell anyone what you’ve seen.”
The boy didn’t run, only crumpled onto the floor and cried some more. Daniel wished he knew how to use the mind gift - he would have wanted to give this kid respite, to take the dark memory away but he didn’t know how.
He caught a passing stranger by the elbow.
“Hey man, take care of this guy, I think he’s having a bad trip.”
And then he left.
***
New York, 2024
He visited a few more locations linked to the deaths by exsanguination, and although he didn’t find proof of Armand in every city, he found enough hints to know he was on the right track.
When he’d arrived back to his apartment in New York, he sensed the presence of a living, breathing human being waiting for him in his living room, and for a second he experienced a jolt of disappointment that it couldn’t be Armand. He wondered if perhaps it was the Talamasca instead.
As it turned out, the answer was neither.
“Dad.”
“Leonora.”
Daniel’s eldest sat on his couch, power suit and scowl of disapproval making Daniel want to crawl under a rock and die somewhere.
Really, it was a bit embarrassing to be scared of your own child - though she was the spitting image of her dad (poor kid) her expressions were scarily like Alice’s when pissed and Daniel knew she’d inherited his obstinacy and tendency to not mince his words. He was going to be in for a rough ride.
“What the hell, Dad? You won’t answer my calls or Kate’s, you’re telling the whole world vampires are real-”
He dropped his overnight bag unceremoniously onto the floor with a thud.
“They are. ”
Leonora squinted, disbelieving.
“You understand how that’s crazy, right? And - and your hospital has called and they’ve said you’ve stopped going for your treatments -”
“I don’t need them anymore.”
“ Dad! ”
Daniel raised his hands in defence.
“Hey, hey! Less yelling - more listening. I’ll tell you everything, but you just need to be…kinda open to possibilities. Is that ok?”
“What the hell does that mean? You’re going through yet another mid-life crisis? You’ve joined a cult that believes in vampires ? What -”
“What did I just say about listening?”
Leonora’s mouth slammed shut, but her arms folded across her chest and her disapproving scowl communicated enough.
Daniel picked up the cardboard box that had been lying by his front door, marked “Person of Interest #0007481 Molloy, Daniel” and dumped it on the coffee table in front of Leonora.
She glanced up at him, curiosity now on her face.
“What’s this?”
“Some evidence - for my crazy theories.”
Daniel opened the box, spilling out its contents - cassettes, photos, postcards, letters - hundreds of little fragments of Daniel’s life, many of which Daniel had long since forgotten about.
The Talamasca knew more about his own life than Daniel did, depressingly.
“What is all this?” Leonora asked, bewildered. Daniel shrugged, uncertain of how exactly to begin explaining the situation.
“This is…courtesy of some acquaintances. Evidence of my early life and interactions with the supernatural.”
Leonora raised her eyebrow at the word ‘supernatural’, but otherwise said nothing as she flicked through the contents of the box.
“This is… something. Who are these guys? Why do they have all of this?”
Daniel sighed as he took a seat by Leonora, rummaging through the mementos and letters.
“ Talamasca. I don’t know who they are exactly - I guess like the Supernatural CIA. Anyways, these creeps know more about my life than I do,” grumbled Daniel as he picked up a recon photo of Daniel and Armand at a concert he didn’t remember attending.
“You sure you want to go through this with me?” Leonora asked, her voice filled with uncertainty as she picked up a postcard.
“I told you - you’re here now, so I’ll tell you everything.”
Leonora’s eyes widened in horror as she read the postcard.
“This is - oh . Oh dad no , I’m not sure I should be reading your letters.”
Frowning, Daniel took the postcard from her and then almost had a heart-attack at the words he’d written to Armand. Geez he really had been a horny idiot.
“Oh wow yeah sorry kiddo, I don’t remember writing most of these - maybe give me the box of letters, I didn’t even think -”
But Leonora had thankfully moved onto the other mementoes, picking up a surprisingly clear candid photo of Armand on the streets of Paris.
“ Wait. I know this guy - I’ve seen him before.”
Daniel felt his heart stop and stutter in his chest.
“ What? When?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Armand (actually scratch that - he didn’t trust Armand. Not when it came to making sane decisions in the throes of jealousy). He didn’t trust Armand to behave rationally when it interfered with something he considered his , and Daniel couldn’t be completely and utterly certain that Armand wouldn’t have hurt his kids or family if he saw them as an obstacle.
But Leonora didn’t look traumatised as she considered the photo thoughtfully.
“I always thought he was a parent at school…I could never think who his kid was. No one looks like him.”
It seemed like a stretch.
“You sure it’s him?” Daniel asked.
Leonora nodded.
“Yeah…yeah I think so. He had strange eyes…and he was just kind of…noticeable. Like you could pick him out in a room right away, he just seemed kind of…different.”
Well that sounded like Armand alright.
It wasn’t reassuring.
“What do you mean you’ve seen him before?”
“He always came to school things - plays, orchestra, basketball games…he said something nice to me once. I’d messed up my shot and…I was crying. Some of the other kids were being assholes about it, I mean god I must have been nine or something it was stupid, just kids being kids but I was so pissed with myself and pissed with the others. I remember he scared them off, made them leave me alone and gave me a handkerchief - said that I was very brave and that the other kids were just jealous. A total lie obviously, but it was nice. I remember thinking I was jealous of whichever kid’s dad that was. He was nice.”
Present and there, unlike Daniel , went unsaid.
Nice . That wasn’t a word Daniel would have ever associated with Armand. Panic still coursed through him, Claudia on his mind, as he wondered just how much he’d failed as a father.
“And that’s it? He never hurt you, he never spoke to you otherwise?”
Leonora shook her head, placing the photo back on the pile.
“No - that was it. That’s the only time he spoke to me. Why? Who is this guy?”
Daniel took a deep sigh.
“His name is Armand.”
“Like the vampire in your book?”
“He is the vampire in my book.”
“Dad .”
“ Leonora - we both know I’m an asshole, but I’m not crazy. I don’t want to scare you, but if you’re here then - then you should know the truth. I said I would tell you everything and this is part of it.”
Leaning back onto the couch, Leonora watched her father, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Ok. I’ll bite. What’s the truth?”
Daniel took a deep breath.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Leonora snorted.
“I won’t be afraid.”
Well. She’d asked for it. Daniel hissed, baring his fangs as his eyes glowed amber.
Leonora yelped, scrambling back.
“ Jesus ! Dad - what are those? Did you have your canines filed? ”
Without hesitating, Daniel used his super speed to move suddenly to the other side of the couch, surprising Leonora.
“Oh my god - dad! ”
“Don’t be scared.”
“Stop fucking with me!”
“I’m not fucking with you Leonora, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Daniel could see the cogs turning in Leonora’s head as she looked at her father with new eyes, taking in his changed appearance and new abilities. He saw her eyes dart to his shiny, elongated nails like claws.
“I was going to ask about the manicure.”
Daniel smiled grimly, raising his hands and wriggling his fingers.
“You like it? It’s permanent.”
The look of amusement that was on Leonora’s face slowly slid off of it as the full implications of what Daniel had just revealed hit her.
“Oh my god it’s really real, isn’t it?”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“I’m afraid so kiddo.”
“And so…” Leonora fanned out all the photos that the Talamasca had collected of Daniel and Armand. Though there were (thankfully) no explicit photos, there was a clear intimacy between Daniel and Armand that more than hinted at a romantic relationship.
“Armand was…your vampire boyfriend ?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yeah…something like that.”
“So you’re…?”
Leonora seemed to struggle to finish the sentence as Daniel watched her expectantly.
“I’m…?” prompted Daniel.
Shaking her head, Leonora decided better of asking her question.
“You know what, labels don't matter anyway - is this why it didn’t work out with mom?”
Yes. No. Daniel didn’t know. He felt like blaming Armand might have been too convenient - it would have been absolving Daniel of his own part in the breakdown of his marriage.
“No…he’d wiped my memories. I didn’t remember him. Besides, I think we’re both well aware I’m capable of ruining relationships all on my own.”
“You’re not that bad.”
Daniel snorted.
“Well, that’s a boldfaced lie.”
“What will you tell Kate? Mom?”
He should have expected the question, but it genuinely stumped Daniel.
“I don’t know.” He finally admitted.
In a second, Leonora’s expression changed from attentiveness to angry exasperation.
“You weren’t planning on saying anything were you? Just fucking off?”
I mean, kinda. He hadn’t thought it would matter, given how little contact he had with his girls these days. It had happened kind of suddenly after all - and if he was totally honest with himself, he hadn’t thought much beyond not having Parkinson’s anymore and then tracking down his maker.
Yeah, he was kind of a selfish jerk wasn’t he?
Fed up, Leonora grabbed her purse and stood up to leave.
“I take it back, you are the actual worst - worst dad ever. ”
“I’m not sure how to tell them. Kate will cry.” said Daniel. That only made Leonora explode.
“Kate always cries! It’s not an excuse to avoid it!”
Ouch , and now that sounded like something he’d have shouted at Armand. Maybe that’s why they worked - because they were both awful.
He took a deep breath and smiled at his daughter who was clearer wiser than he would ever be.
“You’re right - so how would you do it?”
“Just fucking man up and tell them. Invite them over for dinner or something - I don’t know. Don’t overthink it, just do it.”
Just do it. Well, ok then.
“I’ll call them,” he promised, “there’s just something I need to sort out first…”
Leonora raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“A story?”
“No, actually,” Daniel said slowly, uncertain of how much to reveal. He picked up the photo of Armand she’d held in her hands. “I’m looking for him actually. He’s…gone missing.”
“Right. And is he…?”
“My maker?” Daniel offered. Leonora seemed to go pale at those words.
“Yeah. That.”
“Yeah, he is actually. Fucking asshole.”
Leonora laughed.
“This is great - I love that you’re finally getting a taste of your own medicine. The women you dated after mom were all so pathetic over you and I always wanted to warn them that you were never going to be around, you were just going to be off doing your own thing without a care in the world. Did you love him? I mean,” Leonora looked uncertain then, “ do you love him? Is this more like a present -tense thing?”
Daniel felt strangely exposed then. Did he love Armand? Daniel in Dubai would have said yes, without question. But right now it was hard to feel the love when all he felt was the hurt and anger and helplessness of having been abandoned just at the point when he thought he’d got everything he ever wanted.
Ok, so he definitely still loved Armand.
Leonora seemed to have understood the complex interplay of emotions that had crossed her father’s face just then and she softened towards him, a sympathetic tug to her lips.
“Shit. I’m sorry. So he just upped and left, huh? That sucks.”
“Yeah. Yeah it does, actually.”
They spent a few minutes in companionable silence - Leonora had always been the one who got him the most and Daniel appreciated the empathy, even if he didn’t deserve it from her.
Finally, Leonora glanced towards the door.
“I’m sorry dad, I’m going to have to go - I honestly wasn’t planning to stay this long.”
“Sure - sure, of course.”
He was lucky she had come at all, really.
He got up to give her an awkward hug.
“Sorry for all of this…” he waved vaguely at the box of paraphernalia the Talamasca had sent.
“No, this was kinda nice actually. I mean, apart from the part where I need to bleach my eyeballs over what you wrote to your vampire ex-boyfriend - I’m definitely going to need a few shots of vodka to forget that. But the rest of it is kind of nice, in a messed up way. You know all we ever wanted was to know you better.”
Well. Now Daniel really felt like an asshole.
“C’mon, no one actually wants to know just how fucked up their parent was.”
“Actually - we do. Dad, Kate worships you. Why do you think she gets so upset about everything? We always felt like we were on the outside looking in at your adventures and we just wanted to be a part of it. It sucked feeling like you loved your job and your cool life more than us - like we were a drag.”
“You weren’t a drag.”
“Tell that to Kate, she thinks you hate her.”
“Of course I don’t hate her!”
“Well she doesn’t know that, does she?” Said Leonora as she went to open the front door. She jutted her chin towards the box on the coffee table on her way out.
“Bring the box. Maybe take out the R-rated letters and photos and - just share it with them. You’d be surprised. I think Kate would like to know you better. And they need to know dad. It’s not fair to have to lose your dad without knowing.”
Those were her parting words before leaving Daniel on his own.
Daniel had always been quite good with solitude - he was a natural extrovert and could get chatting with anyone, anywhere if he was missing company.
But just then he felt acutely the loneliness of his failed family life. He made a note to do as Leonora had instructed and reach out to Alice and Kate.
Sitting back on his couch, Daniel picked up a few postcards and letters he’d written Armand, sometime in the 70s.
Armand,
I’m in London and I saw this postcard and thought of you. Remember that time we were talking shit and knocking back gin on the Southbank? Yeah, I fucking miss you - you should come and stalk me here
Daniel
Boss,
I’m in Amsterdam, come and find me - I’m at my desk and bored and can’t stop thinking of you. I keep imagining what it’d feel like to have you bend me over this stupid desk and fuck me like I deserve (the answer is awesome. It would feel fucking awesome). Come quickly, I need you
Daniel
Babe,
Remember Pompeii? Everytime I think about the time you found me there I get hard and I want to get on my knees and suck you off again. I’m in Naples now, you should come
Daniel
Jesus, he’d been such a desperate sap, hadn’t he? It made Daniel feel almost ok with the fact that he’d made such a fool of himself over Rashid. Apparently that hadn’t been the idiocy of old age - it turns out that Armand just being Armand was kryptonite to Daniel, in whatever time, place or form. Daniel wasn’t sure why he had thought these would be romantic - a momentary lapse of judgement, clearly - a much more favourable opinion of his former self than he usually had. Who had he been kidding? He’d always been a horny idiot - why would his correspondence have revealed anything different?
Armand’s letters were more heartfelt, poetic. He’d clearly got the short-end of the stick when it came to the pen-pal department.
Beloved,
I miss the music of your laughter and long for us to be reunited. Sometimes I think you wander so much and move so quickly because you enjoy the thrill of the chase as much as I do - I’ll catch you one of these days. Look out for my felt hat, the one you like.
Armand
Lover,
I wish I could fly to where you are now. I count the days until we see each other again - time seems to move differently when I’m in your presence. Eternity stretches ahead of me and taunts me with its unrelenting march, but when I’m with you I find myself wishing I could slow time down just to savour the moments spent with you.
I’ll be at the Night Island in two weeks. I hope to see you there.
Yours with devotion,
Armand
Daniel,
Words can’t express how happy I was to receive your note - your suggestion seems impractical, and rather like I might be distracting you from your work, but if you want a distraction you know I’m more than happy to provide it. I can think of a thousand different ways to distract you, and even more than that, should you wish it. Only say the word - as ever, I’m yours and only wait to grant your every wish.
Yours eternally,
Armand
A knot of emotion rose in Daniel’s throat unbidden at Armand’s words. Damn, but if Armand hadn’t been just as much of a sap too. It was frustrating that even with his memories back, there were still some things missing - due to the passing of time (and lots of drugs) rather than vampire activity - but still. Frustrating. And Daniel couldn’t help but notice there were a handful of postcards and correspondence here, but there were a number of years missing - did Armand have them? Dumb question - of course he did . He probably had a similar box labelled “Daniel Molloy” in his archives, the same way he’d had Claudia’s things labelled and archived in Dubai. The only question then was whether he’d abandoned them in Dubai with Louis or whether he’d decided to move them out when he’d left Daniel in that coffin.
Rustling through the mementoes, Daniel found a smaller box containing more photos - these ones sexually explicit. He paused briefly to thank whatever non-existant god was up there that Leonora hadn’t stumbled across those. Then he found film reels that Daniel suspected might have also been sexually explicit, and then more letters.
One caught his eye in particular. He opened the yellowing envelope and read its contents.
Istanbul, 1975
Daniel,
One day I will bring you here. You’ve been to Istanbul before, of course. We had raki on the banks of the Bosphorous together debating all manner of topics - who knows what it was now. A very happy memory for me, one I treasure preciously. I didn’t tell you about this place then, because I hadn’t been ready to share this memory with you. Constantinople was a blur for me - I was traded there. I didn’t return again until many years later - with Marius, my maker. Venice and the Ottomans were trading then (as you know, they were just as often at war - but this was a moment of peace). I’d never been allowed to accompany Marius on his trade visits before - I was human still, at the time. I’d considered it a special honour, though a part of me was apprehensive of returning to the city that had sold me.
I hadn’t realised it until later, but he’d brought me to Istanbul because he wanted to do me a kindness. He’d rented out rooms on the banks of the Golden Horn, and though he conducted all his business at night, he pointed out to me that he’d brought me to this place because of its proximity to the Eyüp Sultan Camii. You may not know it my dear Daniel, but this site is actually quite holy, the final resting place of a standard-bearer of the Prophet Muhammed, peace be upon him. I had never set foot in a masjid since the day I was taken from my home in Delhi - there were no mosques in Venice, of course. I prayed privately - if I prayed at all. (We’ve established I was a sinner, even then). He brought me to this magnificent mosque and let me spend my days there - to rediscover rituals I’d lost, to reconnect with something that had been taken from me. His thoughtfulness touched me greatly, and I spent the day with a sense of peace that I had rarely known.
When I am at peace with myself and with God, I think of love and the perfection of the universe and I think of you.
Armand
The letter was like a sucker-punch to Daniel’s gut and he felt all the air rush out of him in one go. All at once Daniel felt the gaping sense of overwhelming loss again opening up in his chest - and a smouldering, burning anger at the Talamasca for having taken these. Who the fuck did they think they were? How dared they hold onto little pieces of Armand and Daniel’s soul like this, mere curiosities for them? It made Daniel see red.
But it also made Daniel think. He re-read the letter - did Armand ever take him to the Eyüp Sultan mosque? No - they never did make that trip in the end. Armand had brought him to the Night Island and that was when things started getting kinda fucked up. Could it be that simple?
Daniel picked up the envelope that had contained the letter, tracing his hands over the return address. Could this be it?
It was worth a shot.
***
Istanbul, 2024
Daniel took the next overnight flight to Istanbul, careful to time it so that it was night when he left New York and still night when he landed at Istanbul airport. He checked into the Pera Palace in Beyoğlu, unwilling to stray too far from where all the nightlife was, and also certain that if he was ever going to lure Armand from his hidey-hole he would need an appropriately luxurious and historic hotel. He then planned his visits to Eyüp for the upcoming nights. It was annoying that he couldn’t venture out during the day. He understood now the frustration Armand must have felt when he was stalking him in the seventies - so many hours in which Armand could move, but he couldn’t.
In the end the Talamasca had helped him find the location of Armand’s hideout. When Daniel turned up to the address of the apartment that the Talamasca had sent him, he was initially surprised by how nondescript and simple it was. The security measures also seemed shockingly low - Daniel wondered whether Armand was intentionally courting death by putting himself in the crosshairs of the vampire community, or if it simply was that all this time he had never been actually hiding at all.
Daniel waited outside the apartment block for someone to leave, before sneaking quickly inside while the door was open and climbing up the stairs until he found the apartment number he was looking for.
The final words of the first call to prayer of the day reverberated on the wind as Daniel picked the lock. He could sense a presence in the apartment, could hear a heart beating and feel the apprehension through the bond.
It was him. It had to be. Right? Why else would he be feeling this way?
He thought about knocking the door, but then wasn’t certain Armand would open it if he did.
He forced the lock instead.
As soon as he stepped through the door, he felt all tension dissipate at the sight of Armand standing at his prayer mat.
It was him. He was really there.
“Daniel.”
Armand looked surprised to see him there. He wore a long black kurta, and for a moment Daniel felt like he was in Dubai again, watching Rashid go through his routine prayers.
The only noticeable difference were the glowing eyes, that now stared at him unblinking.
“Hello, Armand.”
For a moment Armand just stood there like a statue, supernaturally still and unnerving. Daniel felt a growing sense of apprehension crawl at his stomach - he was a hardened journalist, uncomfortable silences were a walk in the park for him usually, but in front of the man he loved his nerves were failing him.
He was thankfully saved from saying anything when Armand finally broke the silence.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, softly - not unkindly.
“What do you think? Fuck you very much, by the way, for leaving me to figure out vampirism on my own.”
Armand winced.
“I told you not to come looking for me.”
“Yeah - fuck you for that too.”
“How did you find me?”
“Like it’s hard ? Investigative journalist, remember.”
Cat-like, Armand cocked his head to the side as he watched Daniel, as if he were considering a very interesting mouse.
“Right. That. And I suppose your new friends at the Talamasca.”
Daniel grinned.
“So you have been keeping tabs on me,” he said, feeling vindicated.
“It’s not hard when you insist on making yourself so public,” snapped Armand, “and your incessant blathering with Louis using the mind gift…as if I needed to hear that man’s sanctimonious voice in my head responding to you. I’m surprised you’re still alive.”
Daniel walked up to Armand, stopping just a few inches from his maker. He wanted to hold him, to take him into his arms and never let him go - but he could sense Armand was feeling a little cagey. Still. He noted how Armand’s pupils dilated at his approach, making his usually glowing amber eyes darken almost to black.
“Admit that you’re glad to see me.” Daniel said, more cocksure than he actually felt.
A slow, reluctant smile spread across Armand’s face.
“I am happy to see you Daniel. You look well.”
“Yeah, no thanks to you - but I didn’t come here to give you shit for that. Not too much anyway.”
“So why did you come here?” Armand asked, rolling away his prayer mat.
“To see you. To be with you.”
Suddenly nervous, Daniel tucked his hands into his pockets.
“To just talk to you - I’m sorry. I know I forced your hand there.”
Daniel could see how Armand physically stiffened at Daniel’s attempt at an apology. His tone, when he spoke again, was glacial.
“I see.”
He ignored Daniel as he put away the prayer mat, then went and busied himself in the kitchen. Doing what Daniel didn’t know, considering neither of them needed to eat - Daniel suspected it was more to have something to do so he wouldn’t have to face Daniel than anything else.
So Daniel followed him. He stood in the doorway where Armand was unloading the dishwasher of all things.
“What? No army of blood servants?”
“When I’m here, I choose to live more simply.” Armand explained.
Daniel could tell. Everything about the apartment screamed I’m all fucked up and need to repent. There was no decor - everything was simple, spare - spartan, even. The only indication that anyone lived in it at all were the scrolls of calligraphy that adorned the living room and the bookcase filled with books.
“Right. But I guess you have a few properties around the world just in case, right? What happened to the money from the Bacon triptych sale? How does a vampire divorce work anyway?”
Armand's eyes narrowed, glowing Fanta orange.
Idiot. Couldn’t help yourself, could you? Thought Daniel.
Grimacing as he spoke, Armand enunciated slowly.
“The answer to all of those questions is - it doesn’t concern you. ”
With his arms crossed over his chest, Daniel leaned against the door frame indicating clearly he had no intention to back down.
“Really? Because I told you I loved you right before you left me - can’t blame me for being just a little bit curious about how you’re processing the separation from your ex.”
Armand closed his eyes as if he was willing a higher being to grant him patience. When he reopened them they were almost brown again. It was the dead calm and serenity in which he said his next words which told Daniel he was dead serious about them.
“You should leave now.”
His words were a douse of ice water. Daniel felt his stomach sink, a lump forming in his throat.
But he’d never been very good at expressing fear, or sadness. It usually came out as anger instead.
“Are you kidding me? I travelled all over the world looking for you.”
“Nothing I haven’t done for you before,” remarked Armand coldly, “please leave.”
“It’s almost daybreak.” Daniel pointed out.
Armand hissed as his eyes glanced to the windows, where indeed the light of dawn was creeping up the sky.
“You did this on purpose,” he accused as he strode around the room in frustration, “Fine. Stay. I’ll leave.”
Daniel grabbed him by the shoulders, physically stopping him.
“Oh my god stop being such a fucking drama queen, I’m staying and you’re staying and that’s the end of it.”
He could have thrown Daniel off him if he’d really wanted to - and Daniel knew it. But he didn’t. Though he was trembling with rage, fangs bared and eyes glowing (not looking at Daniel, looking anywhere but at Daniel) he let himself be trapped in Daniel’s grasp.
“I’m still very very angry at you,” Armand seethed.
Daniel barked out a laugh.
“ Yeah - I could tell by the trail of dead look-alikes you left in your wake. A little disturbing that, by the way.”
“Those weren’t -!”
Overcome suddenly by emotion, Armand stopped, choking back something that sounded like a sob. Daniel could see he was on the verge of tears, eyes wet with red, but he fought to hold them back.
“I didn’t want to kill them.” He bit out.
“No?” asked Daniel.
Armand seemed to be fighting something inside him. He couldn’t get the right words out.
“I was - upset . I wanted - comfort. Sensation. To not be in my head - ”
“So you thought fucking and then accidentally killing my look-alikes was a sensible coping mechanism?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” gritted Armand, “That was the point . I was out of my mind .”
He still hadn’t left Daniel’s grip. Daniel tightened his hold on him, desperate to pull him into his arms and crush him against him - but he resisted. He didn’t want Armand to flee, didn’t want to tempt fate and risk spooking him.
“I’m trying not to be offended that your fixation was on a version of me from fifty years ago.” He joked instead, hoping to lighten the mood.
The stare Armand fixed on him then was chilling in its blankness.
“Most older men I approached were either rightly suspicious of my interest or unforgivably vile. At first I hated myself enough to let the vile ones touch me anyway - letting them have their way, even when I could hear their loathsome thoughts. I would kill them and get the short-lived satisfaction that I’d rid the world of an odious person - but after a while even that small satisfaction died and I felt nothing. Was that what you wanted to hear?”
Jesus.
Should’ve known he was going to walk right into another fun little dimension of Armand’s fucked up psyche.
“You couldn’t just go to therapy like a normal person?” he deadpanned. Gentleness wasn’t what Armand was looking for just then, and Daniel knew pissing him off was better than letting him sink into self-loathing.
Armand rolled his eyes, sneering in exasperation as he did so.
“I’m not fit for human company right now Daniel. You should go.”
“Good thing I’m no longer human, right?”
Rubbing his fingers against his temples, Armand closed his eyes as if he could will Daniel away.
“There’s a coffin in the bedroom. You can use it.”
“You climbing in with me?” Daniel asked, as Armand strode past him back into the living room.
“No.”
Daniel followed him.
“Then I’m not getting in it. I don’t think you get it yet Armand, I’ve found you and now I’m not letting you out of my sight. You think you can pull the get-me-in-a-coffin-then-disappear act again? Fuck you.”
Armand stopped, turned around to glare at him with that terrifying unblinking stare. Daniel had a San Francisco 1973 flashback for a second there, and he felt a chill travel down his spine.
“I could make you.” Said Armand softly, sinisterly.
With way more bravado than he felt, Daniel snorted and walked up to Armand, getting all up in his space.
“So? Do it. I’ll just find you again. Doesn’t matter where you go I’ll find you every time.”
They stared each other down, willing the other to back away first. And though Armand was by far the more powerful vampire, Daniel was the one with stubbornness in spades.
With resignation, Armand finally looked away and spoke.
“The sun will stream in soon. I have curtains but we shouldn’t take the risk. Go - the coffin is in the bedroom. No outside clothes in the coffin, please. I’m going to get dressed.”
Armand disappeared to the bathroom, presumably to change into those fancy silk pyjamas Daniel remembered he favoured. Daniel hadn’t brought any change of clothes, not really expecting that he’d need them. He stripped down to his boxers instead, getting into the open coffin, somewhat self-conscious at all the exposed skin. What he wouldn’t have killed to have been turned even ten or twenty years earlier.
The bedroom was also spare, furnished very simply with a double bed, bedside tables and a large mahogany coffin.
When Armand reappeared again Daniel’s breath caught in his throat. God it should be illegal for someone to look that good in pyjamas of all things. Daniel was at a loss for words for once, as he watched Armand climb into the coffin next to him. They laid back, Daniel never once taking his eyes off Armand as he closed the coffin lid over them.
Daniel had never been more thankful for enhanced vampire vision. Even in the dark he could make out the cut of Armand’s cheekbones, the curve of his jaw, the line of his nose and Daniel loved every single thing he saw.
“You’re staring, Daniel.” Armand said lightly, not meeting Daniel’s eyes.
It didn’t make Daniel stare any less. How was he real ? Did he know the effect he had on Daniel? Did he understand how truly gone Daniel was for him, what awful horrible lengths he’d go to just to be near him?
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice catching in his throat.
Armand’s large luminous eyes flicked up, meeting Daniel’s.
“Do you think you deserve to, Daniel?”
And oh , it shouldn’t have done something to Daniel but it did . He was twenty-five years old again, utterly and hopelessly devoted to this monster with the face of a Lippi angel. It was as if no time had passed at all - he was still that kid, that junkie that wanted to mainline Armand 24/7.
He wanted so bad.
“Please,” he begged, a little sick with how much he loved falling back into this little game with Armand, “ please I’d do anything .”
Armand’s eyes darkened as they considered Daniel.
“Would you, really?”
“Yes,” said Daniel hoarsely, “anything, I’d do anything . Whatever you want. I’m yours .”
Sighing, Armand parted his lips, his head leaning closer to Daniel’s but not quite touching.
“Truly?” he asked, voice soft as a whisper, “I suppose you were always so very good at begging.”
“Please…”
“Yes. Yes, Daniel -”
Daniel surged forward, crushing his lips against Armand’s cold, lifeless ones.
And, oh.
Oh, he had missed this.
Heaven and hell in a kiss.
Daniel felt Armand’s hands reluctantly cup his face, felt him return the kiss with increasing heat and fervour.
He could get drunk on this for the rest of his life - and as Armand grew in his passion, kissing Daniel’s lips, his face, his eyes, his neck - his elegant hands running all over Daniel’s chest, Daniel sighed, melting into Armand’s touch.
“I like kissing. And snuggling with dead things, yes, hold me.”
He heard the sharp intake of breath that came from Armand.
“You are a dead thing now.”
Armand’s tone when he’d said it was mournful, full of regret. Like he was grieving Daniel, even though Daniel was right fucking there .
Daniel hated it. A pang of hurt took root in Daniel’s chest at the very idea of it.
“Don’t be sad boss - I’ve never felt more alive.”
A gentle kiss placed against his eyelids.
“Sleep now, Daniel. Rest. You’ve had a long day.”
Despite his new vampire powers, Daniel still wasn’t strong enough to do much against Amrand’s command of rest.
“I don’t want to rest,” he protested, even as he felt himself being dragged under into slumber.
“You never do,” came the affectionate reply, “ rest now .”
And so despite his best efforts, Daniel went to sleep.
***
Daniel woke before nightfall.
When his eyes opened, the first thing they zeroed in on were Armand’s black curls, how they caressed the nape of his neck.
So he was still there. That was something.
The second thing Daniel realised was that Armand wasn’t asleep. He had turned on his side, had his back facing Daniel - but he was clearly awake. His body was too tense, too still. It wasn’t the marble statue-like stillness of vampire sleep, but rather the stillness of someone who wanted to sleep but couldn’t.
“Can’t sleep?” Daniel asked quietly, his hands reaching for Armand, wanting desperately to pull him closer.
Armand shifted, glancing over his shoulder at Daniel.
“No. Sleep often eludes me, these days.”
That didn’t surprise Daniel much. He could sympathise - sleep eluded him often, prior to turning. Becoming old sucked - all the things you used to take for granted just didn’t happen like they used to. But in Armand’s case, Daniel knew it had more to do with that brain of this than it did with the aches and pains of ageing. Daniel could practically hear him overthinking from the other side of the coffin.
It stirred something in him. He remembered too, how Armand needed sometimes to get out of his head. He remembered how he used to help him with that.
He wanted nothing more than to help him with that.
“I know what you need, let me give it to you.” Daniel murmured against the shell of Armand’s ear, his hands grabbing at Armand’s waist, pulling his back against his chest.
Even in the dark, Daniel could see Armand’s unearthly eyes flicker away the way they did when he wanted to avoid something.
“You think so, do you?” he asked, face contorted with displeasure as his fangs flicked out. Daniel smiled slowly, his grip on Armand’s waist tightening.
“That’s right, ’cause I know you. You need to be fucked silly until you’re no longer in your head - I can do that. Let me do that for you.”
One hand was already moving as he said this, running up under Armand’s shirt, his other hand pulling Armand’s hip against his so that he could feel the hardness of Daniel’s desire, his lips ghosting against Armand’s ear.
Even as his face remained cold and imperious, Daniel could sense through their bond the churning waves of want that were rolling through Armand, could feel him melting against him.
“You know nothing .”
“Oh?” asked Daniel, as one hand snaked up Armand’s side before curling into his hair. Daniel tugged it suddenly, making Armand gasp as he arched his back exposing that long, glorious neck. Daniel's other hand continued to trail under Armand’s shirt.
“This is doing absolutely nothing for you then, huh?” he whispered, lips trailing against Armand’s neck. Armand shuddered in his hands and his eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“Insolent, arrogant -”
“You love it.”
“You’re a fool . Why did you come here? What do you want from me?”
“You really can’t think of a single reason?”
“I can feel your reason clearly,” Armand sneered, “and once you’ve had me? What then? How long before you realise you can’t stand the sight of me?”
Daniel grabbed Armand’s jaw, making him look over his shoulder so that Daniel could slam his mouth against Armand’s. He poured all his hunger and frustration through the kiss, before trailing his mouth against Armand’s neck.
“What have I ever done that has ever given you the impression that any version of me has ever disliked any version of you?”
Armand laughed bitterly as he writhed against Daniel.
“Oh, I can think of a few memories, can’t you?”
Unfortunately, Daniel could. They had hurt each other a lot, back then. Daniel flinched internally as he recollected some of the things he’d said and done to Armand in the fathomless depths of his despair. But revisiting their past mistakes was not what he had planned on the agenda for the night.
Tightening his grip on Armand’s curls, Daniel devoured Armand’s lips with open-mouth kisses.
“I want to make new memories,” he murmured against Armand’s jaw as he began to undo the buttons on Armand’s silk pyjama top, “don’t you?”
Daniel could hear Armand’s heart beating faster, his breath catching, and could feel how much Armand wanted this too.
“If you think you’re capable of making me forget …” Armand sighed, trailing off, letting Daniel do away with his top.
“Oh, I’ll make you forget,” Daniel promised as his hand trailed down Armand’s abdomen, towards his cock, “I’ll make you forget everything but my name.”
Armand’s moan turned into a throaty laugh.
“So arrogant -”
Daniel swallowed his words with more punishing kisses as he stroked Armand, bringing him to full hardness. He could feel him leaking in his hand, and felt his own cock harden in response.
“I don’t suppose you got lube in here?”
“I came here to reflect on my sins and pray ,” said Armand ironically, “ No, I don’t have any lube in here.”
“ Huh. Guess we’ll have to improvise.”
“ Daniel - ”
But Daniel had already pulled his hand away, and was making a cut with one long fingernail along his palm, allowing his blood to seep and wet his hand. He slicked himself up with it, and began working Armand open with his fingers. He heard Armand’s sharp intake of breath, heard his heart beating faster. Daniel mouthed at the nape of Armand’s neck, tempted to bite but didn’t.
He’d wait to let Armand give it to him.
When he was sure Armand was ready, he lined up the blunt head of his cock and pushed in, sinking in deeply with one smooth thrust - forcing a low moan from Armand.
“I missed you,” he said against the shell of Armand’s ear, “I missed you so fucking much, Jesus Christ you feel good - ”
“ Please, Daniel - I need -”
“I know babe, I know - just let me take care of you -”
Daniel remembered how Armand liked it, when he needed to get out of his head. Sometimes he liked it rough, borderline painful, because Armand loved to dance and find his pleasure on that razor’s edge between pleasure and pain.
If Daniel was completely honest, he did too. It was why he never really ran away, even when any normal person would have probably legged it the first time they realised Armand had tortured them for six days in a jealous pique and then erased their memories. Really, it was a wonder that Daniel had lived this long at all, all things considered - he definitely wasn’t programmed right in the head.
And so he gave it to Armand the way he knew that Armand needed it. He was rough with his touches and punishing in the rhythm he set.
Being a vampire definitely had its upsides. He would definitely not have been able to do it like this pre-turning.
Daniel felt the moment Armand begin to let go, to give in to the sensation of being completely overwhelmed by touch, taste, sound.
Though it was completely stupid, Daniel had a momentary flash of jealousy - all those poor boys Armand had fucked and killed. Had it been like this with them too? Had they seen him like this - hair tousled, eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure, lips parted with harsh gasps?
Daniel hated the very idea of it. It was completely stupid - but he couldn’t help the trickle of insecurity that bled out of him.
“Did they give you this ?” he asked between thrusts.
Armand sobbed, overstimulated, burying his face into the crook of his arm.
“ Of course not - I wouldn’t have let them -”
Daniel tugged at Armand’s hair, pulling him back flush against him.
“So what were you looking for?” he murmured against Armand’s ear. Aramand’s face twisted, caught between despair and ecstasy.
“I - I wanted to be gentle with them, to -”
Daniel shoved Armand back down, making him moan. He drove into Armand with a punishing rhythm.
“Well, you don’t need to be gentle with me . You’ve never needed to be gentle with me -”
“ Daniel - ”
“Don’t you know by now there’s no one else like me? There’s just me, I’m the only one -”
“Yes, yes - only you -”
“Fucking idiot,” Daniel said between thrusts, “chasing pale imitations when I was right there where you fucking left me - ”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Armand hissed, “just shut up and fuck me.”
“Whatever you say boss,” said Daniel, his breath and rhythm becoming erratic as he drove his hips towards their release. He reached around and wrapped a hand around Armand’s gorgeous prick, willing him to come.
It didn’t take long.
Armand let out a sudden cry, and Daniel felt his release all over his fingers. Daniel’s hands moved to Armand’s hips as he found the right leverage to chase his own release, and within a few thrusts was spilling inside Armand.
Drunk with love, Daniel pressed a long trail of wet kisses all along Armand’s neck, his jaw - tilting his chin, he pulled Armand in for a tender kiss.
“I missed you, boss.”
“I missed you too, Daniel.”
***
Once their ardour had cooled, the awkwardness from earlier seemed to settle over them both like a blanket. Daniel, unused to anxiety, hated how quiet Armand was being, hated how he couldn’t really tell what was going through Armand’s head. All he could feel through the bond was calm, like a kind of thoughtfulness but the ambiguity of it all was driving him insane.
“How are you feeling?” he asked finally, unable to take the silence any longer.
“Like I could use a cigarette.” Came Armand’s reply in the dark.
Well, that wasn’t anymore illuminating. Still, it was something to do. Daniel glanced around the coffin, wondering just how dangerous it would be to get out of it.
“I don’t suppose you thought to put up those sunproof screens on the windows?” asked Daniel.
“No,” said Armand, “I didn’t think I’d need it.”
There was a gentleness now in his tone of voice that made Daniel relax a little - enough to reach out to him.
Daniel wrapped his arms around Armand, pulling him close so that he could rest his head against Daniel’s chest. Heart full, Daniel trailed his fingers through Armand’s curls - god he’d missed them. How were they real? Honest to god Armand had the most beautiful hair he’d ever seen on anyone…
He wished he could read Armand’s mind. He supposed this must be more frustrating for Armand than for him, really, as Daniel had never been able to read Armand’s mind to begin with. But it was moments like these that he really wished he could. All he could sense right now through the bond was calm, but he couldn’t tell if it was good calm or apocalyptic calm.
“How are you feeling, really? Was it what you needed?”
Armand shifted so that he met Daniel’s eyes.
“Yes...thank you, Daniel. I had missed this.”
Daniel released a sigh of relief. He really hadn’t been sure if he’d messed it all up or not. He pressed a kiss against Armand’s temple.
“I love you.” he said, needing Armand to know it was true.
Armand heaved a heavy sigh.
“Are you certain?” he asked, voice weary.
That pissed Daniel off.
“Stop trying to tell me how I feel. I love you - monster that you are, fucked up evil shit that you’ve done and all. Not sure if you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly a saint myself.”
Armand watched Daniel with those owl-like eyes of his, considering him with curiosity.
“I believe you think you do.” He said finally, in that infuriatingly calm way he had.
“Still such a condescending asshole.”
Armand laughed.
“Yes, well. Once you’ve lived to be half a millennia, you’ll also find that condescension comes with the territory.”
“Don’t need half a millennia for that,” deadpanned Daniel, “I have two ex-wives and two grown children who can confirm I’m already plenty condescending.”
This made Armand smile, and though he was still pissed Armand refused to believe he loved him, Daniel felt his heart surge in victory at being able to amuse the ancient vampire.
Softened by his bemusement, Armand stroked Daniel’s silver hair fondly.
“You should sleep some more Daniel,” Armand pressed a kiss to his forehead, still stroking his hair, “you’re young still, fledgling. You need your energy. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
It was true that suddenly Daniel felt incredibly sleepy, good sex and the narcoleptic pull of the sun weighing his eyelids down. He half wondered if Armand wasn’t fucking with his head again, but he didn’t think so.
“You promise?” He asked, like the fucking stupid twenty year old kid he’d once been.
“Yes, I promise.”
Those were the last words Daniel heard before he drifted off to sleep.
***
When Daniel woke up, he was alone in the coffin.
The fear of abandonment hit him in the chest, a cold icy splinter - but within moments he realised he wasn’t alone. A presence was still here, in the apartment, outside of the coffin.
Armand.
Pushing open the coffin lid, Daniel sat up to the sight of Armand, already exquisitely dressed in tailored pants and a turtleneck shirt, sat cross-legged on a chair by the dresser table.
“You’re still here.” Daniel said, stating the obvious. He had been fully prepared for the possibility that Armand might make another run for it.
“Yes,” said Armand, primly, “I realise I was remiss in my responsibilities as a maker. I should have ensured you were well adjusted to vampire life before leaving. I won’t make that error again.”
Seriously?
“Fuck that,” Daniel declared, “I don’t need a vampire coach - I’m a great fucking vampire, actually. What I want is my lover - but if I’m reading between the lines correctly, you’re still planning on fucking off, is that right?”
Armand’s face crumpled in despair.
“This was a mistake .”
Daniel’s stomach sank. Had he read this wrong? Maybe he’d vastly overestimated Armand’s feelings for him. Maybe Armand had been dead serious about being repulsed by the act of making another vampire.
Was Armand repulsed by his undead existence, now?
Though they couldn’t speak telepathically anymore, the maker-fledgling bond meant that Daniel could feel everything Armand was feeling - and mainly what he seemed to be feeling was barely-restrained panic. There was nothing his maker wanted to do more than to flee the scene - again. He was staying put through sheer force of will and some kind of resigned sense of obligation - not exactly the feelings Daniel had hoped to inspire in his long-lost love.
Well, Daniel was getting tired of it. He was owed some fucking explanations, goddammit. He wasn’t ready to accept that he had read this all wrong, and definitely not ready to accept having found Armand just to lose him all over again.
Daniel went to pull out his macbook and pulled up a chair to sit next to Armand.
“Right. Well, before you fuck off - as you’re so obviously dying to do - I think you owe me some explanations. Y’know, as the one who didn’t have their memories wiped however many times it was.”
“I gave them back,” said Armand, deadpan, “you have them all back. What do you need me for, if not in instruction on how to endure as a vampire?”
“My human neurons weren’t as robust as your vampire ones,” he said sarcastically, “there’s still a bunch of stuff I don’t remember.”
“And whose fault is that?” snapped Armand, “not mine, for once.”
Ignoring him, Daniel fired up his macbook and opened the folder labelled “Daniel Molloy”.
He pulled up some photos of them in the 70’s and then the 80’s - some where they were laughing and happy, others where Daniel was obviously completely fucked up on something.
“I remember things getting fucked up. I felt like I was insane, most of the time.”
Armand nodded, face impassive.
“You were. You were using a lot.”
“You kept feeding me blood.” stated Daniel.
“I thought I could help you control it.” Armand supplied.
“Yeah? And how did that work out?”
Armand made that face he did when he was displeased.
“Right. Not great.”
“No.” said Armand, slowly.
Daniel continued, clicking through the photos.
“And I mean, this insanity lasted for years. So what made you finally stop it? Why did you leave?”
That finally got a heated reaction out of Armand.
“I didn’t leave you,” he snapped, “I never left. I looked over you, made sure you returned home safely from your many misadventures, ensured your daughters weren’t bullied at school, attended every book signing - I am not the one who leaves.”
Apart from that last time hung between them, but Daniel chose not to bring that up.
He decided to change tack instead.
“Leonora told me she remembered you.” He stated.
Armand quietened, glancing away again.
“Yes. I tried…not to be too present. But…sometimes I had to intervene.”
It made no sense. Daniel couldn’t understand why Armand would take an interest in his family at all, if it wasn’t to eliminate them in some kind of misguided revenge plot.
Right?
“Why? Why follow my daughters, attend their basketball games, what were you thinking?” he demanded, voice hard for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.
Armand straightened his back, his eyes glancing away.
“Because they are yours, and so they are mine,” Armand explained, in that matter-of-fact-way he had of telling you something completely insane, as if it were completely normal, “I grew fond of them. I would see them thrive. ”
Daniel stared at him, dumbfounded as a dawning realisation came to him.
“You love them.”
Armand shifted uncomfortably in his chair, voice clipped.
“Yes.”
Daniel kept pushing.
“Because they’re mine . And you love me.”
This time Armand’s eyes met his.
“Yes .”
This fucking guy. Just when Daniel thought he’d figured him out, there was something else
“So why are you itching to get as far away as you can from me right now?”
Exasperated, Armand rolled his eyes, shifting and re-crossing his legs as he dusted off his immaculate trousers.
“Because I have seen this all before, and I know how it will end.”
Daniel snorted.
“Who are you, Nostradamus? Just because you’ve seen some shit, doesn’t mean you know everything. Also frankly, I’m insulted in how little faith you have in me - I’m a fucking tough cookie, ok? You tortured me for six days straight and I still clung onto life by the bare skin of my teeth and sheer spite.”
“Six days is nothing,” said Armand, “child’s play.You will now have eternity. Can you even begin to comprehend it? No, you can’t - you’re still too young, still too close to your human life. In another century perhaps, it will finally start to dawn on you, what you’ve done.”
Something clicked for Daniel then. Without a word, he went and grabbed his recording equipment, then started connecting it to his macbook as Armand watched him, eyes tracking him like a cat.
“What do you think you’re doing Daniel?”
Daniel didn’t reply to Armand’s question. Instead, he opened his recording software and set himself up for a new interview.
“Ok - so let’s start from the beginning.”
Armand looked bemused.
“From the beginning?” he asked, head cocked to the side as he leaned back against his chair, arms crossing over his chest.
Daniel nodded, pinning him to the chair with his blue eyes.
“Tell me your story.”
A soft chuckle escaped past Armand’s lips.
“Are you planning on interviewing me, Daniel?”
“You wanted me to, didn’t you?” challenged Daniel, “In San Francisco? You wanted to understand why Louis spilled his guts out to me?”
That made Armand bark out a harsh laugh.
“Louis is the one with a penchant for navel-gazing and wallowing,” said Armand, “I soldier on.”
Daniel allowed for a pause, allowed for Armand’s words to sink in and settle before he continued.
“Do you, though?”
Armand did that thing with his face that he did when he was pissed, biting back his fangs, pressing his lips tight into a grimace.
“You’re going to say something that will annoy me, aren’t you?”
“You clearly can’t move on,” said Daniel, “you love me but you won’t be with me because of a pattern we’d established fifty years ago. You love me, but you won’t be with me because you cycle through hating Marius and loving him. You might not want to talk about it, but you’re just as stuck as Louis is.”
“And you’ll what?” sneered Armand, “Write a book of my exploits?”
“No - I know you wouldn’t want your story shared with the world like that.”
That only made Armand laugh again - but not the laugh that Daniel liked. The one that indicated he wasn’t really amused at all.
“Never stopped you before. So, to what end, this interview?” he challenged, “You believe you’ll be able to fix me, is that it? That you’ll help me become ‘unstuck’?”
Daniel shook his head, lips twisted in dry amusement.
“Nah - we said we’d be honest so I’ll be totally honest. I’m looking for an excuse - literally any excuse - to spend another few days here with you. And if you were completely honest with yourself, you’d admit that a part of you is dying for an excuse to stay. So here it is - an excuse . Let me interview you. Fulfil your responsibilities as a maker - teach me what you’ve learned in your half-a-millennia lifetime, and then you can walk away - conscience clear. How does that sound?”
Armand stilled, eyes unblinking. But Daniel had noticed that something in his eyes that indicated a pique of curiosity.
“It sounds like a trap,” said Armand at last, “the last petulant tantrum of a child who isn’t getting his way.”
A slow grin spread on Daniel’s face.
“That’s not a no .”
A corresponding smile tugged at Armand’s lips.
“It’s not,” he acknowledged.
“So…” Daniel said as he indicated his laptop, “Shall we?”
Armand’s face softened with reluctant affection.
“Fine. I’m all yours, Mr. Molloy.”