I rushed faster and faster towards the door to the secret stairs. It was as if they were drawing me to them, as if I had no will. Marius didn’t matter now. Nothing much mattered, except to be going down the narrow damp stone steps faster and faster, past the windows full of sea spray and early evening light. In fact, my infatuation was getting so strong, so total that I stopped suddenly, wondering if it was originating with me. But that was foolishness. Who could have put it in my head? Those Who Must Be Kept? [...] I was slightly dizzy, confused. How had I gotten so far down the steps, and didn’t I remember that the door was bolted from inside? Give me another five hundred years and I might be able to open that bolt, but not just now. Yet I went on down, these thoughts breaking up and disintegrating as fast as they’d come. I was on fire again, and the thirst was making it worse, though the thirst had nothing to do with it. And when I came round the last turn I saw the doors to the chapel were open wide. The light of the lamps poured out into the stairwell. And the scent of the flowers and incense was suddenly overwhelming and made a knot in my throat.
—THE VAMPIRE LESTAT | Part VII, Chapter 15
