Gabriel took a long swallow of wine. “You don’t miss it?” “Miss what? The futility of building a life that must one day crumble to dust?” “The softness of a pillow after a hard day’s work? The smile in your daughter’s eyes as you step through the door? The joy of a lover in your arms?” “A lover who must grow old and wither, while I remain unchanged?” Jean-François smiled, cold and thin. “Unless I kill them, of course. Praying God and Angel Fortuna that my love rises whole and beautiful, rather than some rotten abomination? Or simply remains dead by my hand?” The vampire shook his head.
...more
