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Claudia blinked her eyes open.
It should have been a normal, everyday event, but she felt strange doing it, as if she hadn't done it for a long time.
She finally figured out what was so strange. She shouldn't even have eyes, not after the ordeal with the sun, with her dying in that cell.
Yes, she had been dead for quite a while. Not undead, as a vampire was, but truly dead, burnt-into-ashes dead.
She touched her face, with hands she didn't know how she still had.
They looked like regular hands, smooth, pale, soft. Definitely not ashy. And not really that soft. Her body had begun to harden as she aged. But they were indeed pale. Too pale to be human hands.
She glanced around. It was a large space. She gave the place a bit more scrutiny. She was sitting on a sofa. There was a low table in front of it, with a baby grand piano in the corner. Her finger itched to play, but her current situation demanded her undivided attention.
There was a book on the low table. Well, she assumed it was a book. It looked flimsy, with paper instead of leather for a cover. The spine was rather worn as well. It reminded her of Louis and his books.
Talking about Louis, there was laughter sounding like Louis's somewhere in the apartment. Claudia wasn't sure if she hated or loved it. Louis had always tried so hard. Too hard, really. But he and Lestat were the cause of her undead life, and she had hated that life.
For a long time, she thought she should be grateful that she wasn't one of the many little girls who died like a gnat back in those plague-filled days. It was what Lestat said she should feel. But she had stopped listening to Lestat even before she died her true death. She had no idea why she still thought about what he said.
But yes, she was certain that was Louis's laughter. She jumped down from the sofa and began exploring the place.
There were a number of rooms in the apartment, and it all felt so familiar. It was as if she had been here before, but that was impossible. She had never seen any of this apartment in her life.
And now she heard a bark of laughter that sounded eerily close to Lestat's. She froze. Could it be him? Could she truly be back with them, and her death all a dream? Maybe it was indeed a dream and she was still living with them, her immortal parents. The thought made her want to stab someone. Once she hated only Lestat, but now...
The sounds were closer now. Laughter amidst moments of quiet. No, moans. Her preternatural hearing was still working.
And finally she got her confirmation. "No, Lestat, this is ridiculous!" It was definitely Louis who murmured those words.
Of all the places in the world to be reborn, why did she end up in Louis's and Lestat's place? Well, what she assumed was their place. One of them could just be visiting.
Or maybe the long years apart were really a dream and she had been living with them all this time?
She had, by this time, found the room Louis and Lestat were in. A bedroom of sorts, with an enormous bed. The color-theme was all sleek grey. More interestingly, Lestat and Louis were lying in it, both half-naked, and exchanging kisses.
She didn't truly know how she felt about it. Louis had told her how much he had always hated Lestat on their journey from New Orleans to Europe, and now they were kissing with a familiarity that was unmistakable. Was that confession a lie? But no, it couldn't be, she knew how much Louis had once loved her.
How many years had she been gone? She was actually surprised by the strength of her hatred. It seemed the years gone by hadn't softened her emotions at all. But then again, why should they? It wasn't like she was conscious during those years.
She tried calling their names. She felt her throat vibrating, but no sound emerge. She walked closer to the bed and tried to touch Louis's shoulder, but her hand, seemingly there, was passing through Louis's arm.
Fine. She climbed onto an unoccupied corner of the bed and sat down. Funny that she didn't pass through the bed. Well, metaphysics had never been her strong point.
Her parents -- yes, she still thought of them as her parents -- were still enthusiastically kissing each other, though now Lestat had moved onto nibbling on Louis's neck. Little licks and kisses, not breaking the skin. Louis was still laughing gently.
It was strange, seeing Louis so happy. He was only this happy when they first arrived in Europe, free from Lestat's control. It made her blood boil. If indeed she still had blood. If her hands were still solid, she was sure they would be around Louis's throat by now.
"Yes, you can," Louis suddenly said.
"Hm, I can what?" came Lestat's answer.
"Take my blood, of course." Louis was still smiling.
"Didn't know you can read my mind."
"I can't, but I have known you for a long time, haven't I?"
Lestat responded with another lick on Louis's neck, and then a bite. Louis sighed a moan, and bit into Lestat's shoulder in turn.
Claudia could still remember how heady that feeling was, drinking the blood of a vampire. She wondered how differently it would feel if both were vampires and the circle was completed.
She watched them connecting with each other as only vampires could and wondered if they could read each other's mind as one could during the transfer of blood. Or if the door between the minds of sire and fledgling was forever closed.
She hoped it would be the latter.
She sat there, at the corner of the bed, and wondered what to do. It was an extremely intimate moment between her parents, but they couldn't see or hear her. It made her sick to her stomach. And how long were they going to take, locked in an embrace?
Not that long, it appeared. They broke apart after a couple of minutes and smiled at each other. It was strange, watching them be so silly. Louis was never in the mood for silliness back when he was living with her. Happiness, sometimes, but no silliness. Apparently Lestat could still change how Louis acted and felt. Damn him. No, damn them both.
Lestat had moved off Louis and lay with his head on Louis's shoulder, and Louis had slung an arm around Lestat. And their hair color made a pretty contrast on the pillows.
Not knowing what else to do, Claudia jumped off the bed and walked out of the room, leaving the pair alone. They seemed in love with each other, despite their past differences. She felt so sick about it.
"This way, Claudia," a voice close by suddenly said.
Shocked, Claudia stopped dead and turned around. A man impeccably dressed in a fine suit stood there, his hand extended.
"How come you can see me?" she asked, incredulous.
"Because I'm a ghost, just like you." He looked serious, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching. "Take my hand, please."
She stared at his seemingly very solid hand for half a minute and slipped her hand inside his grip. It didn't pass through his hand like it did with Louis's shoulder. She gasped a little.
The ghost only smiled. "My name is Raymond Gallant. You are one of the few vampires who turned into a ghost. I think there's a great deal we can help each other with. I can teach you how to stay solid and visible, for one."
Perhaps she could indeed do something about the relationship between Lestat and Louis. She nodded resolutely and followed Gallant out.