"I don't know," Thompson says. "Don't hurt me, please God don't hurt me!"
"Oh, God's got nothing to do with this now. God isn't going come and help you, Bob. He didn't come to help me, or Eve and he's not coming to help you. I'm the only one here, Bob. I'm your god now and it's just you and me."
I cover my face with my hands.
"Look at her!" Julien says, twisting Thompson's neck towards me. "I love her, and she needs pain to block out the memories of you! What do you think, Bob, should I hurt you?"
"No, no," he gasps, barely able to speak through the blubbering. "Please don't hurt me."
"Did Eve ask you not to hurt her?"
"I'm sorry," he cries.
Julien holds the knife under Thompson's chin. "Well Bob, it's too late for sorry now. You see, I'm here to do an exorcism. I'm here to cast the devil out. In fact, why shouldn't Eve be the one to do it? Here," he says and puts the knife in my hand, closing my fingers around it, his voice almost a whisper. "Take it. Do what I said you want to do and cut the bastard's heart out."
I just hold the knife in my hand, shaking my head, the tears rolling down my face.
"Don't," Thompson says. "Please don't."
"I can't," I say, barely able to speak.
"Didn't he hurt you, Eve? Didn't he make you hate yourself? Didn't he make it so that you can't get through a week without cutting yourself?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't he deserve to be punished? Doesn't he deserve to be stopped?"
"Yes," I say, but shake my head. "I can't."
"No, of course you can't. You're not a killer." Julien takes the knife back from me. "But I am."
He grabs Thompson's neck and twists it to the side, then bites down. I cry out, covering my face but watch through my fingers. Thompson groans, a strangled cry escaping his lips as Julien drinks his blood, almost ripping Thompson's neck apart. A moment passes before Julien stands up, his mouth and chin covered in blood. He wipes his mouth on a sleeve and then reaches down to feel Thompson's neck for a pulse. Then he turns to Vasily, who stands off to the side of the room in shadows. "Throw me your gun."
Vasily complies, and Julien catches the weapon and shoots Thompson point blank in the forehead, the force of the bullet rocking his head back. Then Julien kicks the body over onto the pile of tapes. He takes the can of gas and spreads it over everything, throws a lit match on the pile. Flames shoot up, igniting the gasoline, the fire licking at Thompson's body.
Julien takes me by the arm, leading me out of the building and to the car where Vasily stands at the ready. We drive back to the warehouse in silence, Julien just holding my hand in his, and he's released something in my brain so that I'm numb, feeling nothing.
I stand in the bedroom by the window overlooking the waterfront. Outside, the city lights across the river sparkle like a thousand crystals of yellow and white. A wind picks up and blows the stoplight on the street below back and forth. Through an open windowpane, I can hear it creak as it rocks in the wind – a lonely sound that arouses in me such a feeling of regret and sadness.
The streets in the surrounding area are bare; no traffic passes by. I realize I don't even know what time it is – I'd forgotten my watch at my apartment and haven't thought to look for it in the boxes Julien brought over.
Julien comes in, the open door throwing a sliver of light from the hall, briefly illuminating the hardwood floor. He closes it behind him and the room is once again in darkness and comes to my side.
"I'm sorry, Eve," he says. "That was difficult for you."
I feel numb, but I nod.
"Did you have permission to kill him?"
Julien shakes his head. "No," he says. "But he needed to die."
"I thought you only killed within the terms of the Treaty."
"I'm beyond that now," he says and sighs.
"What does that mean?"
He shakes his head. "Need to know, Eve."