"It's been placed in my room," as requested, as promised. It's here. Louis and his complex feelings about it are irrelevant to the discussion.

Takes a swallow from his mug. Sterile, this blood. But it does its job, will mitigate whatever after effects might have stuck annoyingly overnight.

Louis crosses closer. Puts two fingers through a vicious tear across the front of Lestat's suit and feels his chest tighten. Guilty. Reassured, still, by the warmth of skin beneath. Can hear Daniel moving, finds comfort in that too.

"We should replace this before we go."

However impractical it will be in Vermont.