annr.pandora-第2节
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re； absolute replicas of Temples of my time now serve as banks。 The words of my native Latin suffuse the English language。 Ovid； my beloved Ovid； the poet who predicted his poetry would outlast the Roman Empire； has been proved true。
Walk into any bookstore and you find him in neat； small paperbacks； designed to appeal to students。
Roman influence seeds itself； sprouting mighty oaks right through the modern forest of puters； digital disks； microviruses and space satellites。
It is easy here … as always … to find an embraceable evil； a despair worth tender fulfillment。
And with me there must always be some love of the victim； some mercy； some self…delusion that the death I bring does not mar the great shroud of inevitability； woven of trees and earth and stars； and human events； which hovers forever around us ready to close on all that is created； all that we know。
Last night； when you found me； how did it seem to you？ I was alone on the bridge over the Seine； walking in the last dangerous darkness before dawn。
You saw me before I knew you were there。 My hood was down and I let my eyes in the dim light of the bridge have their little moment of glory。 My victim stood at the railing； no more than a child； but bruised and robbed by a hundred men。 She wanted to die in the water。 I don't know if the Seine is deep enough for one to drown there。 So near the Ile St。Louis。 So near Notre Dame。 Perhaps it is； if one can resist a last struggle for life。
But I felt this victim's soul like ashes； as though her spirit had been cremated and only the body remained； a worn； disease…ridden shell。 I put my arm around her； and when I saw the fear in her small black eyes； when I saw the question ing； I wreathed her with images。 The soot that covered my skin was not enough to keep me from looking like the Virgin Mary； and she sank into hymns and devotion； she even saw my veils in the colors she had known in churches of childhood； as she yielded to me； and I … knowing that I needn't drink； but thirsting for her； thirsting for the anguish she could give forth in her final moment； thirsting for the tasty red blood that would fill my mouth and make me feel human for one instant in my very monstrosity … I gave in to her visions； bent her neck； ran my fingers over her sore tender skin； and then it was； when I sank my teeth into her； when I drank from her … it was then that I knew you were there。 You watched。
I knew it； and I felt it； and I saw the image of us in your eye； distractingly； as the pleasure nevertheless flushed through me； making me believe I was alive； somehow connected to fields of clover or trees with roots deeper in the earth than the branches they raise to the welkin above。
At first I hated you。 You saw me as I feasted。 You saw me as I gave in。 You knew nothing of my months of starvation； restraint； wandering。 You saw only the sudden release of my unclean desire to suck her very soul from her； to make her heart rise in the flesh inside her； to drag from her veins every precious particle of her that still wanted to survive。
And she did want to survive。 Wrapped in saints； and dreaming suddenly of the breasts that nursed her； her young body fought； pumping and pumping against me； she so soft； and my own form hard as a statue； my milkless nipples enshrined in marble； no fort。 Let her see her mother； dead； gone and now waiting。 Let me glimpse through her dying eyes the light through which she sped towards this certain salvation。
Then I forgot about you。 I would not be robbed。 I slowed the drinking； I let her sigh； I let her lungs fill with the cold river air； her mother drawing closer and closer so that death now was as safe for her as the womb。 I took every drop from her that she could give。
She hung dead against me； as one I'd rescued； one I would help from the bridge； some weakened； sickened； drunken girl。 I slid my hand into her body； breaking the flesh so easily even with these delicate fingers； and I dosed my fingers around her heart and brought it to my lips and sucked it； my head tucked down by her face； sucked the heart like fruit； until no blood was left in any fiber or chamber； and then slowly … perhaps for your benefit … I lifted her and let her fall down into the water she had so desired。
Now there would be no struggle as her lungs filled with the river。 Now there would be no last desperate thrashing。 I fed from the heart one last time； to take even the color of blood out of it； and then sent it after her … crushed grapes … poor child； child of a hundred men。
Then I faced you； let you know that I knew you watched from the quay。 I think I tried to frighten you。 In rage I let you know how weak you were； that all the blood given to you by Lestat would make you no match should I choose to dismember you； pitch a fatal heat into you and immolate you； or only punish you with penetrating scar … simply for having spied upon me。
Actually I have never done such a thing to a younger one。 I feel sorry for them when they see us； the ancient ones； and quake in terror。 But I should； by all the knowledge of myself I possess； have retreated so quickly that you could riot follow me in the night。
Something in your demeanor charmed me； the manner in which you approached me on the bridge； your young Anglo…Indian brown…skinned body gifted by your true mortal age with such seductive grace。 Your very posture seemed to ask of me； without humiliation：
〃Pandora； may we speak？〃
My mind wandered。 Perhaps you knew it。 I don't remember whether I shut you out of my thoughts； and I know that your telepathic abilities are not really very strong。 My mind wandered suddenly； perhaps of itself； perhaps at your prodding。 I thought of all the things I could tell you； which were so different from the tales of Lestat； and those of Marius through Lestat； and I wanted to warn you； warn you of the ancient vampires of the Far East who would kill you if you went into their territory； simply because you were there。
I wanted to make certain you understood what we all had to accept … the Fount of our immortal vampiric hunger did reside in two beings … Mekare and Maharet … so ancient they are now both horrible to look upon； more than beautiful。 And if they destroy themselves we will all die with them。
I wanted to tell you of others who have never known us as a tribe or known our history； who survived the terrible fire brought down on her children by our Mother Akasha。 I wanted to tell you that there were things walking the Earth that look like us but are not of our breed any more than they are human。 And I wanted suddenly to take you under my wing。
It must have been your prodding。 You stood there； the English gentleman； wearing your decorum more lightly and naturally than any man I'd ever seen。 I marveled at your fine clothes that you'd indulged yourself in a light black cloak of worsted wool； that you had even given yourself the luxury of a gleaming red silk scarf … so unlike you when you were newly made。
Understand； I was not aware the night that Lestat transformed you into a vampire。 I didn't feel that moment。
All the preternatural world shimmered weeks earlier； however； with the knowledge that a mortal had jumped into the body of another mortal； we know these things； as if the stars tell us。 One preter natural mind picks up the ripples of this sharp cut in the fabric of the ordinary； then another mind receives the image； and on and on it goes。
David Talbot； the name we all knew from the venerable order of psychic detectives； the Talamasca； had managed to move his entire soul and etheric body … into that of another man。 That body itself was in the possession of a body thief whom you forced from it。 And once anchored in the young … body； you； with all your scruples and values； all your knowledge of seventy…four years； remained an chored in the young cells。
And so it was David the Reborn； David with the high…gloss India beauty； and raw well…nourished strength of British lineage； that Lestat had made into a vampire； bringing over both body and soul； pounding miracle with the Dark Trick； achieving once more a sin that should stun his contemporaries and his elders。 And this； this was done to you by your best friend！
Wele to the darkness； David。 Wele to the domain of Shakespeare's 〃inconstant moon。〃
Bravely you came up the bridge towards me。
〃Forgive me； Pandora；〃 you said so quietly。 Flawless British upper…class accent； and the usual beguiling British rhythm that is so seductive it seems to say that 〃we will all save the world。〃
You kept a polite distance between us； as if I were a virgin girl of the last century； and you didn't want to alarm me and my tender sensibilities。 I smiled。
I indulged myself then。 I took your full measure； this fledgling that Lestat … against Marius's injunction … had dared to make。 I saw the ponents of you as a man： an immense human soul； fearless； yet half in love with despair； and a body which Lestat had almost injured himself to render powerful。 He had given you more blood than he could easily give in your transformation。 He had tried to give you his courage； his cleverness； his cunning； he had tried to transport an armory for you through the blood。
He had done well。 Your str
