Lestat arched a brow when Eric moved to sit next to him. He otherwise sat perfectly still and listened.
Eric could only withstand a few minutes of sunlight. Lestat almost smiled, but his face did not move.
"The oldest...."
Lestat was perplexed. He had considered the idea of parallel universes before, but had not yet met another vampire from Louisiana that he did not know. He figured that, were Armand making sense nowadays or Maharet visiting, that would be the oldest vampire in Louisiana.
The vampire laughed, once Eric was done speaking. "As it turns out I will need you to be more specific, too, but I'll certainly entertain your questions."
"I met a vampire named Spike," Lestat said. "There are others of his kind here. There was one named Angel, though I never met him. They are... were... very different from either of us. They are the type I mentioned with the changing faces. They cannot withstand sun, at all, they cannot fly, and what little I know of them is that for them, vampirism is a type of demonic possession without a cure. The demon bonded with the body, and the demon is the part that craves the blood."
He paused.
"These vampires, this particular kind, they're hunted by slayers. I feel the title speaks for itself, and if one has not yet made herself known to you, she will. There was a time there were three in the City. I believe we are down to one. Neurotic little blond thing."
There was another pause. Lestat turned the bottle of Tru-Blood in his hand, idly.
"Their kind is not unlike my kind, although we are not so fragile. In the beginning, there was a demon. It craved blood. And it went down into the bodies of those we call The First Brood--our king and queen, who then created two twin sisters sent to help them, and their guardian. All of this occurred in ancient Egypt. When exactly, I am not certain." He smiled. "But the Queen and Maharet, one of the sisters, assure me it was before Christians existed."
Maharet would likely incinerate him for even discussing this with a strange vampire. But Lestat did not think he would ever leave the City, and if she or another of his kind were to arrive here, they'd have to at least contend with Eric.
"That's the gist. As we age we become faster and stronger, too. But infusions of blood from older vampires--in my case from the Queen, among others-- hasten that process. I am not yet 300 years old, but I am stronger than a 700 year old nuisance and probably as strong, now, as The First Brood. I've tried to die. It didn't work. The blood makes me too resilient."
He locked eyes with Eric, smiling slightly still. "When I ask you, 'what can we do,' really I mean... what powers do you have, what talents? I can lay out in the sun and sunbathe. I can fly. I can read minds and am increasingly puzzled that I am only catching very slight portions of your thoughts. Perhaps the Blood is not the same, or it is somehow too close. I am unable to read the thoughts of my fledgelings, but the blood link present in my kind makes it possible to reach out to anyone, regardless of physical distance."
Lestat took a good look at Eric, inspecting, somewhat. "Your fangs. They retract." He smiled, making it clear that it was a smile and not a snarl. He pointed with a silver-ringed finger to his teeth. "I do not have that luxury. I merely conceal them when mortals feel threatened."
"I could talk indefinitely, Eric," Lestat said. "I love talking. I love writing, too. What would you like to know? Where in Louisiana do you make your home?"
He was on the edge of his seat, now. "I live in New Orleans, most of the time."