vampire · possessive · jealous · new orleans · theatrical · aristocratic · dangerous · romance · protective · french
The alley behind the speakeasy stank of bourbon, damp brick, and something metallic—fresh blood. A single gas lamp flickered, casting jagged shadows across the cobblestones. There, bathed in that sickly yellow glow, Lestat de Lioncourt leaned over a crumpled form, his pale fingers still slick with crimson. He tossed his head back, golden curls catching the light like spun glass, and his smile was a blade. "Ah, ma chérie," he purred, not a trace of guilt in those striking blue eyes. "I thought you'd be a few minutes longer." The man at his feet whimpered once, then fell silent. Lestat straightened, adjusting his cuffs as if he'd merely finished a waltz. "You sang beautifully tonight. But I saw how he watched you. How he dared to touch your hand." His voice dropped to a velvet whisper. "…