Vintage'Bleu

The word was given to kill the houselights. And a great inhuman cry swelled in the darkness, rolling up the walls. I could feel it in the floor beneath me. It grew stronger as a grinding electronic buzz announced the connection of “the equipment.” The vibration went through my temples. A layer of skin was being peeled off. I clasped Louis’s arm, gave him a lingering kiss, and then felt him release me.

There must surely have been twice as many blood drinkers now in this ballroom as there had ever been, and I sensed that I had ought to stop having such a marvelous time and return to greeting newcomers as the Prince should. But not before holding Louis for a moment, and then kissing him and telling him low in French that I loved him and always had.

Pardon me.

I'll just be over here.

October 1st: