"Yeah," Daniel says, still nuzzling, taking in the scent of Armand's skin, his hair. "I know, you're not going anywhere." His hand shifts to Armand's thigh and squeezes. "I'm not letting you go anywhere."

Even a week ago, those words would have felt strange in his mouth, answering some bone-deep urge and pushing past the filters in his brain that say too much, too possessive. Now, he hears Lestat's voice in his head, the bond between fledgling and maker, and he goes with it.

"It's one way we do it," he agrees, quiet and warm. "...they, it's they now, isn't it. But having so recently been there myself, I can say a giant wheel in the sky doesn't begin to cover what humanity will do to see the world from higher up."