Hunting, hm?
Ben would take the dandy French men at his word. For the moment. For honor and his good name. Still, Ben cannot help but feel a bit uneasy. There was something… off about Lestat, perhaps it was merely his rakish appearance and seeming stride but he’d not say it aloud, or be impolite. He was an officer of the continental army, and therefore represented his country, even to the French peacock, Sir Lestat de Lioncourt.
“Can I ask your name?” Lestat murmured, lightly.
Now Tallmadge was most certainly ill at ease.
“John Bolton, Mr. de Lioncourt,” Ben responded, careful not to breach a tone of one most uncivil.
Ah, yes, a liar indeed, so Lestat de Lioncourt is right! On occasion…
Suddenly Lestat feels most disinclined from kindness towards the Yankee Spymaster. Fangs bared, Lestat merely smirks to himself. Pretty, Benjamin Tallmadge most certainly is, and wouldn’t it be nice to have more company? Lestat thinks calculating some hypnotizing plot, he shall only act on it if it is permitted in this case however, just this once, the reaper is a gentleman.
In a fashion akin to a flickering candle or a broken mirror, Tallmadge reminded Lestat of himself.
He wished to have him, but it seems darling mistress death— Audrey , is ahead of him. Very well, the coquette quaintrelle wins… for now.
“Can I help you?” Ben asked politely.
“No,” Lestat replied, flashing his fangs. He’s weary of hiding and being ignored.
In an instant the major pulled a pistol from his side, pointing it at Lestat.
Benjamin holds his ground, he knows no other way, but part of him wants this all to be some elaborate play, some nightmare he presently craves to awaken from.
“Stand down you beast,” Tallmadge managed to hiss, voice slightly quivering with fear.
He didn’t expect to meet the very devil here.
Lestat merely laughed, pulling his own pistol. Something he’d stolen from a German navy man he’d drained in New Orleans. He promised civility but alas, that is a two-way street. Oh such a pity, such a waste…
Benjamin looked near death in the face and quietly he attempted to slip away, backing up, slowly.
Lestat grimaced sadly and he placed his pistol back in his coat.
The sun is inching slowly, he hadn’t time to lose.
Benjamin Tallmadge reminded him of himself, for his optimism and persistence and he seemed to carry a burden like Nicki’s… Nicolas de Lenfent.
A burden, alas, Lestat will never be fully capable of comprehending.
“I would turn you,” de Lioncourt said to Ben.
“But I’m afraid my Louis wouldn’t like it and I know another whose gaze is already upon you…”
Benjamin stopped in his tracks. Gawking.
He was relieved, of course, not to join the demons of this earth, which he barely fathomed existed.
But the loneliness and cockiness of the other seemed to set him off, just a bit.
“Let us part then,” Ben said swiftly.
“As you wish, monsieur, Benjamin Tallmadge,” Lestat said, tipping his tricorn and weaving his way back.
Just as Ben turned to go Lestat merely said, loud enough for Agent 721 to hear: “There are darknesses in life, monsieur, you are one of the lights… the light of all lights.”
