Audrey didn’t like soirées, she preferred the opera, if she were being truthful, and Benjamin didn’t like feeling ensnared. He was not… well a lamia, or an undead creature, he couldn’t imagine why his presence was so called for.
A small sigh as he observed Audrey pulling up her stockings and fixing her head of raven-hair.
“I still don’t know why I need to be there,” he muttered. “Unless I am the sacrifice, of course,” Ben added, with a bit of sarcasm but the look on his face spelled cold honest terror.
Audrey gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Almost school girl-ish compared to the night before.
“This is New Orleans, mon amour, not Setauket, Long Island or New York City, and it’s too warm to be Boston. Believe me amour, we aren’t nearly as lacking in humanity as the books say. Still, our ways are not your ways. The books also paint a poor picture of lycanthropes, witches and the like. I am… not entirely sure of ghosts, allegedly the French quarter is haunted but whether by people or the evils of humanity, I do not know. I suppose we all have some manner of soul, I just doubt a literal one,” a small hum as she rolls up her stockings. While she is a social butterfly she wasn’t big into soirées. She preferred the opera and art galleries.
“Would St. Louis Cathedral put you more at ease? I can see to that when this is over. It helps, however, to have friends in high places. I can assure you that much,” a small laugh.
“You faced bullets, redcoats, Tories and the might of the British empire on which the sun is overdo to set, surely you do not fear me? Truly?” It’s an earnest question. Truthfully sometimes Audrey feared herself. The unwanted beast howling in her blood. But she’s not nearly apathetic enough to give into it.
She sees to it that the carriage is ready enough to go. They were both, against the odds and it seemed, the world, ‘presentable’ and taking his hand. Turns away from the townhouse, well, bawdy house, in the French quarter.
“Ready whenever you are, monsieur, my sunbeam ,” she says, placing a small rose in his dirty blonde hair before sitting in the carriage. Face to face with him.
“A— a cathedral?” Ben echoed doubtful.
He’d heard such creatures as Audrey couldn’t even say God’s name without bursting into flames, and yet, had she not confessed to him? Practically laid herself bare under his boyish but well intended gaze.
Shoulders hunkered, he hesitated.
“And that would be beneficial to whom? I can't imagine what your 'friends in high places' could do for me. I have already been removed from the war thanks to this bizarre experiment of sorts, so I feel positively unmanned...this is not who I am supposed to be. I have to finish what I started…”
A pause.
“I— I don’t know,” Ben said, awkwardly, but it was a true confession, he didn’t know.
“I fear what you represent -- the evil that surely ensnares you -- but I am unsure if I fear you, yourself, since you have been...very kind to me. Even amongst the living, that is unusual these days,” He said, with a hint of disdain.
Disdain his every word, and if he persists… marry him.
Ben certainly didn’t feel ready, still, he sat across from Audrey, like the gentleman he was, gazing into those soulful green eyes.
He was ensnared, sunk in longing and sin now, and there was no escape.
Audrey laughs at his remark despite his underlying disdain. It seems an explanation is overdue.
“I was raised Catholic by a frankly overly religious and conservative by French standards, Vicomte of a father. To you Americans I would simply say Viscount. I am my mothers only child and my fathers eldest daughter. My father regrettably still lives, maman died of natural causes. My half sister Camille, pray she is well, is a gossip columnist and political advocate. Her mother was a lady in the court at Versailles. My mother was a left handed wife, and an actress, evidently a good one for my father raised her up. Like mother, like daughter I suppose,” a shrug. “I rather like looking at crucifixes. They are very pretty, aesthetically pleasing to the eye. I can say God’s name of course. I can recite the Lord’s Prayer in at least six languages. I can dance at least four dances, play piano, harpsichord, and violin and I’ve acted as a political advisor to a handful of the men and women who ‘kept me’ but my body and mind is my own. Your God’s name is Yahweh by the way, assuming you’ve read the books you claim to care so deeply for. I am partial to Erasmus myself. Of course I can step on holy ground, crosses and garlic don’t do anything to me. That is an old Transylvanian legend, I am French,” an innocent enough chuckle and a pause.
“So, you lying and killing for a cause is just and right? But me, taking blood and life because of my vicious nature I did not ask for demands, is it not? What manner of evil and damned do you speak of? I never asked for this. Whoredom is my choice. The only choice. I’ve explained that much to you. Convenient how lenient the world is too brothers whose acclaim would be shame for their sisters or their mothers. I must smile and beguile just to stand where a man from your station began. So forgive me, mon amour, if I take some satisfaction in toying with men and women who outrank you on occasion. A kiss and my heart on my cheek and they fall. I can suck, and fuck, and flatter anywhere in the world,” a shrug.
She wishes so deeply to console him. But she isn’t entirely certain how. So she places a soft gloved hand on his shoulder and caresses gently.
“You will finish what you started,” she reassures Ben. “But getting out of this hot blooded city takes means. That’s why I must address my friends,” a small sigh but there is no malice in it.
“Mon amour,” she begins. Green eyes gazing back at him gently. “You are either my great answer and way out, or… we’ll be the death of each other. For both our sakes, love, I hope it is the first. You’re lucky you need not do much tonight, at least not when addressing the vampire Prince of New Orleans. Yes, I know, Princes, I don’t think much of it either. This is not a land of kings,” a sigh.
“But, New Orleans would be deathly quiet were it not for the French vampires of the Camarilla. Louis, Lestat and Claudia are there and a family of sorts as well. Lestat and I have history. Lestat and the Prince of New Orleans combined means can get us out. You need only say what is true, you come in peace, you are a Major and Spymaster of the continental army, you have the manners of a gentleman and you are looking to leave with me. That is all,” she smiles sweetly. “Clever as you are and I know you are, you can manage that, oui?”
Ben merely gazed, in some morbid kind of awe. Jaw tightening.
“Of course I've read the Good Book. I wouldn't be much of a reverend's son, were I to have never even touched a page of scripture,” Ben said, rather obviously.
“As for one’s nature… God has led armies into battle for glory...we are taking lives for His name and our survival, not for pleasure and debauchery. I have seen your friends feed, Audrey. They take delight in killing people." Eyes shining within the dim lighting, he said lowly, "I assuredly do not. Make no mistake about that. What you do...even if you did not choose it, is nothing I could ever live with. I would sooner take my own life, the most despicable of all the sins.”
Ben felt a stab of guilt on her behalf, but was unsure of how to properly console her. Was there any consolation for such an existence?
"I know you didn't choose this," he finally said, his voice soft. "We so rarely are given a choice in this life...but you can still choose to do good. You can choose to help people rather than harm them." Looking over at her again, he earnestly asked, "Could you not just feed on animal blood? Must it be human?"
The very idea was absurd to him. He was fighting against a monarchy, and yet he had to endure the very same out here amidst the damned?
"Fine," he agreed, reluctantly. "I realize that this is my only way of returning, but...I will naturally need some guidance. Perhaps it is better that I don't speak at all."
Clever, hm? Well yes, he would permit her that.
Finally, he flashed a thin smile. "The truth is not entirely my strong suit in this war, but yes, I suppose I can manage that..." Expression darkening, he added, "Yet you truly think they would just let you leave without reprisal? And with a human?"
The idea of being torn apart at this event for trying to abscond with one of their own, and a woman who allegedly had history with Lestat, curdled sourly within his stomach.
There is a very simple reason Audrey is not disclosing her plan to Ben. She is most certain it would in fact, fluster and shock him. Make him drop the masquerade he is playing at. She knows the name he gave to the other academicians under her care was a lie. No, not John Bolton, Benjamin Tallmadge. A spy, an enlisted observer of sorts and a necessary liar. To not start gossip, though she’s fairly certain the rumors of them are already circulating. Rumors she personally possesses no shame about but she doesn’t wish to break the boy. He’s broken enough, but then, so is she. That never stopped anyone.
”If the Good book is so good, why is it used to justify the monarchies of both France and England? One which sides with your cause. Ironically enough. I at least am certain the Camarilla, the ivory tower is an autocracy because it serves those in control. Before you ask, yes, of course I’ve done what I must to survive the autocracy in question. That often involves lying, seducing, blackmail and sometimes selling my body to them. At least it pays enough to pay rent and un-live as I do, and ensure those under my protection are not hurt. My fellow kindred, or some of them, not Monsieur de Lioncourt, mock me for my regard for humanity. They seem to far too frequently to forget we were all born into a mortal coil once, one that is beautiful, doomed and fragile, you make a fool of death with your beauty,” a soft sigh, either deep in thought or longing. It takes the better part of her restraint not to kiss him then and there, but she will withhold, if only for a few more hours. “The Prince was elected by vote of the vampires who reside here, like an autocratic prime minister or president. Of course I can vote and I did, in her favor. Maddalena de Medici di Firenze, Magdalene de Medici of Florence.”
“Charming enough, Magdalene devout Catholic despite her vampirism, despite her name, it is not one she chose. I doubt she’d survive my trade, poor thing. You’ll understand when we arrive, she is… shorter than I. Blonde, deceptively soft looking. Don’t let her manipulate you. She has little attachment to one of your sex. That is too say, she takes after a Lady Eleanor Butler of Ireland. Not that it matters, as I’ve said before, I’d wed a lady, but alas, the chain of marriage stings me like a whip, it’s all it’s ever done. Lestat and I grew up together, he the son of an abhorrent Marquis de Lioncourt in a castle on a hill, I, the sometimes childhood sweetheart, sometimes the aspiring wife in water colours, now, he pays me my time. I insist upon it. Though we are both cursed with our fathers tempers. Neither of us asked for the vampiric embrace, yet, we have a tendency to endure. He is my keeper, or at least, was, until I could manage on my own and I have, just fine. I run a house, you are the only man in my bed as of late. Remember that, as I do as I must and here, be as I am. Or once was.”
“The truth is not my strong suit either, I fear you would think me a bereaved harlot if I told you all there is to know of me. Vampires can read minds, love. Pray I never have to read yours. This… conversation of ours, this entanglement.”
A soft laugh. Liaisons with the damned and the liars it seems.
“If only a momentary interlude from frankly a struggle I sympathize with. Are you not weary?” Audrey asked, earnestly.
“Though, I think the blood of those vile lobsters and English cops could be put to better use, every cop is an evildoer as are most lobsters and loyalists. I am sensible enough to disregard the women and children in this case. Yes, I can drink from animals. It simply doesn’t last as long as the blood of humans. I do kill, I kill evildoers. My siblings in sin, if you will. I do help people. I am a poet when time permits and a lover, not a fighter. I spent too long fighting to survive. Those other harlots you saw in my home and place of work? They are my good deeds. Though no good deed goes unpunished.”
“Also,” a hum and a pause. “You aren’t absconding with me. I was the one who took you away in the dead of night from your grand struggle. Lestat, at least, respects my autonomy. I am not yours or any man’s property. I belong to myself alone.”
the carriage rolled on, it was strange the sensation that overcame Audrey. Was it love? No, it couldn’t be, she was not to permit herself such absurd notions.
Benjamin merely gazed between the streets of the Crescent City and Audrey, gaze flickering between the two, like a bit of sunlight through a foggy window.
At last, the carriage stopped, the door opened and to his own surprise Benjamin Tallmadge took Audrey on his arm and saw them to the entrance of the place she had directed the carriage driver to.
I doubt; I fear; I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
