When he speaks into your ear so thatno one can hear, he will say he is your slave, that hes passed to you from Deirdre. But its a lie, my dear,a vicious lie. Hell make you his and drive you mad if you refuse to do his will. That is what hes done tothem all. She stopped, her wrinkled brows tightening, her eyes drifting off across the dusty surface of thetable. Except for those who were strong enough to rein him in and make him the slave he claimed to be,and use him for their own ends Her voice trailed off. Their own endless wickedness.

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Anne Rice, The Witching Hour.

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