The Tale of the Body Thief

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Authors: Anne Rice
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and his ancient coven could come after me, cursing me and seeking to put an end to my newborn life. And Magnus had known that I would prevail.
    “Lestat, I do not want the blood. But I want you to stay here. Look, give me a matter of a few nights only. Just that much. On account of friendship, Lestat, stay with me now. Can’t you give me those few hours? And then if you must go through with it, I won’t argue anymore.”
    “Why?”
    He looked stricken. Then he said, “Let me talk to you, let me change your mind.”
    “You killed the tiger when you were very young, didn’t you? It was in India.” I gazed around at the other trophies. “I saw the tiger in a dream.”
    He didn’t answer. He seemed anxious and perplexed.
    “I’ve hurt you,” I said. “I’ve driven you deep into memories of your youth. I’ve made you aware of time, and you weren’t so aware of it before.”
    Something happened in his face. I had wounded him with these words. Yet he shook his head.
    “David, take the blood from me before I go!” I whispered suddenly, desperately. “You don’t have a year left to you. I can hear it when I’m near you! I can hear the weakness in your heart.”
    “You don’t know that, my friend,” he said patiently. “Stay here with me. I’ll tell you all about the tiger, about those days in India. I hunted in Africa then, and once in the Amazon. Such adventures. I wasn’t the musty scholar then as I am now … ”
    “I know.” I smiled. He had never spoken this way to me before, never offered so much. “It’s too late, David,” I said. Again, I saw the dream. I saw that thin gold chain around David’s neck. Had the tiger been going for the chain? That didn’t make sense. What remained was the sense of danger.
    I stared at the skin of the beast. How purely vicious was his face.
    “Was it fun to kill the tiger?” I asked.
    He hesitated. Then forced himself to answer. “It was a man-eater. It feasted on children. Yes, I suppose it was fun.”
    I laughed softly. “Ah, well, then we have that in common, me and the tiger. And Claudia is waiting for me.”
    “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
    “No. I guess if I did, I’d be afraid to die.” I saw Claudia quite vividly … a tiny oval portrait on porcelain—golden hair, blue eyes. Something fierce and true in the expression, in spite of the saccharine colors and the oval frame. Had I ever possessed such a locket, for that is what it was, surely. A locket. A chill came over me. I remembered the texture of her hair. Once again, it was as if she were very near me. Were I to turn, I might see her beside me in the shadows, with her hand on the back of my chair. I did turn around. Nothing. I was going to lose my nerve if I didn’t get out of here.
    “Lestat!” David said urgently. He was scanning me, desperately trying to think of something more to say. He pointed to my coat. “What’s that in your pocket? A note you’ve written? You mean to leave it with me? Let me read it now.”
    “Oh, this, this strange little story,” I said, “here, you may have it. I bequeath it to you. Fitting that it should be in a library, perhaps wedged somewhere on one of these shelves.”
    I took out the little folded packet and glanced at it. “Yes, I’ve read this. It’s sort of amusing.” I tossed the packet into his lap. “Some fool mortal gave it to me, some poor benighted soul who knew who I was and had just enough courage to toss it at my feet.”
    “Explain this to me,” said David. He unfolded the pages. “Why are you carrying it with you? Good Lord—Lovecraft.” He gave a little shake of his head.
    “I just did explain it,” I said. “It’s no use, David, I can’t be talked down from the high ledge. I’m going. Besides, the story doesn’t mean a thing. Poor fool … ”
    He had had such strange glittering eyes. Whatever had been so wrong about the way he came running towards me across the sand? About his awkward

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