The euphoria from the high keeps me going, keeps me from feeling sad. I feel happy to be able to play it, to listen to its sweetness. I think of Kate, so high she can't even talk, lying in the messy bed, so insubstantial that she's like an empty scarecrow. I feel my heart swell for Kate and mostly for Michel that he was so willing to take care of her. And now Julien, trying to make her last days comfortable, keeping her off the street, getting her medical care.
When I stop playing, I turn to him, shaking my head, my emotions rising. He finally looks at me directly and it's the first time we've really made eye contact since yesterday.
"I'm so sorry."
He nods but says nothing, looking away from me to Vasily.
"I think it's time to go."
Vasily raises his eyebrows, but nods. He motions to Reynolds, who's eyeing Julien and me, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Cheers." He chugs the remaining scotch in his glass. "See you tomorrow, Eve. We've got more work to do."
I nod, feeling like the moment could go on and on.
Vasily and Reynolds leave, and Julien follows. I stand and grab his arm.
"Wait." I have to say something more to him –my apology isn't enough. "Don't go."
He stops and looks at me, glancing up and down.
"I don't see you on your hands and knees."
"I don't mean that. I just wanted to say something to you. To apologize—."
"You already did."
He turns, pulling his arm away.
"I was wrong," I say, trying to get the words out before he’s gone. "I was foolish, stupid." I stand there and close my eyes, feeling borne on a wave of acceptance. When I open my eyes again, he's at the door, saying nothing in response. "Screwed up," I say, the warm feeling from the White Widow keeping me from despairing. "More trouble than I'm worth."
He stops, the door open. "Everything that's worth anything in life is hard." He looks back at me. "You know what to do."
I nod, but it isn't going to happen. I just had to say I was sorry, to make things right.
After a moment, he goes to his coat on the coat tree and retrieves some papers from an inside pocket. He stands there for a moment as if deciding, and then he comes to stand before me and holds out the papers.
"Here," he says, handing them to me, closing my fingers around the folded papers. "I’m going out later and don’t know when or if I’ll be back. I hoped that our little party tonight might straighten a few things out for you, but you need more. You wanted to read it all. These are some parts of the manuscript Michel didn't want you to read. I went to his place and found them, tucked away in his desk. Read them. I know you think you love him, but you have to let him go. He's no saint and he's a great actor. At least with me, you know what you're getting."
Then the door closes, and he's gone.
Chapter 10
“Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.”
David Grayson
I take the papers and go to my bedroom, creeping under the covers, and start to read.
"Nous séjour avec Soren pour l'année prochaine,"the manuscript starts."We stay with Soren for the next year."
I see such a transformation in my brother that I barely recognize him. He has become Soren's servant as he did Marguerite before him. But even more, he has become Soren's confidant and partner in crime.
I kill mortals. I don't apologize for it. I drink their blood with relish, for I am a hunter now. But I have not forgotten that they are humans, and that I was once one as well. That I once loved and felt pain and had hopes and dreams just as they do. Michel seems to have forgotten this entirely or he plays this role so convincingly that even I start to hate him.
I keep telling myself that he is merely trying to learn as much as is possible from Soren – about his kind in the hopes of finding a way to kill him, but it is difficult to see him act in such a base and heartless manner.
Only last night, we were sitting around the salon in Soren's Paris home after a day of rest, and Soren turned to Michel, who was lounging on a divan after a bath, preparing for the night's conquests.