Chapter 62. Heat

Lestat's POV

Thursday before midnight

I can feel that Hope's spirit is in torment, remembering things that cannot change and even between dreams her tears flow and words come out of her mouth.

"Forgive me." "Please." "I love you." "Come back!" "I didn't want to." "I'm here."

These and many other phrases were murmured with an anguished tone. I pull her tighter to me, rest my lips on hers, and have a few flashbacks of the images in her mind, blood and bones strewn about, her kneeling, with Melvin's body in her arms, trapped in an echo of the past, grieving for someone who was collateral damage in the plan of the Gods.

"Hope, my love," I whispered. "My Queen." I kissed her forehead and turned with her.

I slipped my leg over hers, one of my arms serving as a pillow, while the other was around her waist, her face now resting close to my neck, her head resting on my chin, this way I could hug her better, and keep more contact.

I heard small sobs.