Kate gives this flattered smile as Vincent reminds me that even though I’m technically twenty-seven years older than he is, at the moment, we’re both nineteen.
We take the Métro to Denfert, then walk a few minutes down a pedestrian street to Georgia’s restaurant, only to find a large crowd outside waiting for tables. While Georgia goes in to cajole one of her friends into getting us in, I decide to take a quick spin around the neighborhood. And within seconds I feel that disturbing, about-to-be-sucked-into-a-black-hole feeling that I always get when numa are around. I move toward the source of the unease only to see the numa leader himself—Lucien—walking with two of his men just a few blocks away from where Vince and Co. are standing. I rush back to alert them to the situation.
I’ll go back and watch which way they’re heading, I offer. By the time I return, Ambrose is on the ground, and Kate crouches beside him trying to get him to respond.
I see a pair of numa with a drawn knife heading away from the scene, toward Lucien. A few minutes and they’ll be back with reinforcements. I get closer to Ambrose and see he is dead. There’s no way Vincent will be able to lift him to get him out of here, so I do the only thing I can think of: I possess him.
Talk about heavy. Ambrose weighs a ton. Luckily he has the muscles to go along with the bulk. But I feel like I’m wearing one of those fake sumo costumes—stuck inside a fat suit. Kate and Vincent help me get Ambrose’s body into a taxi.
And that’s when it hits me how special she is. She’s brave enough to stay with Vincent, even knowing what he is. But accepting one of the more bizarre details of our existence with just a wrinkled nose and not a full-on freak-out—now, that’s impressive. It’s been a long time since there’s been an addition to our clan, so new blood, even though it’s human, is a breath of fresh air. I’m looking forward to getting to know this unique specimen of girlhood better. If she weren’t Vincent’s girlfriend . . . But I’m not going to go there.
But something happens to prevent us from spending time with her. Charles saves a kid who falls off a boat. Gets himself mangled in the propeller. And Kate decides that watching him come home in pieces is unbearable. It reminds her too much of her parents. She tells Vincent that if that is what being a bardia is all about, she can’t stick around to witness his own violent deaths.
She breaks up with him. He, of course, is devastated. Stops eating. Starts acting like his old self pre-Kate: robotic, emotionless. He tries to build a wall around his heart, but the hollow look in his eyes speaks the truth. His heart isn’t even there to protect. It’s with Kate, and she’s gone.
She leaves an empty hole behind her. There was this feeling of optimism and joy in the house when she was around that’s now turned into a void. Like Vincent, I feel hollow. Sad. And as the days pass, I begin to realize I’ve grown to care for Kate. Not as my best friend’s girlfriend, but as someone in and of herself. And I realize I miss her.
EIGHT
I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME. IT’S Vincent who’s lost his girlfriend, not me. But I feel a sense of loss all the same. It’s not like Kate has been around all that long, but the times that I did see her really left a mark on me.
Out of sight, out of mind, I tell myself. And then I do the thing that makes the most sense—I call a girl. Nothing like a beautiful woman to wrap your arms around to chase the blues away. But even an evening with lovely Portuguese Carli ends up with me walking home afterward and lying around staring at the ceiling, feeling strangely unsettled until morning.
Vincent is punishing himself. He barely eats. Whether in training or, on a couple of occasions, facing numa, he fights like a madman. He doesn’t allow himself to look up whenever we pass her house. Once Charlotte, volant, told him that she saw Kate a few blocks away coming toward us, and he turned around and headed the opposite direction.
One night we’re walking around Belleville, doing surveillance in Geneviève’s neighborhood, and I ask him how he’s doing. Thinking he might need to talk about it. He turns to me with empty eyes and says, “You were right before. It was stupid of me to even try to be with Kate. The only thing that makes me feel any better is knowing that she’s better off without me. She’ll meet some human guy and fall for him and lead a happy, normal life. It’s what she deserves.” The words pass through his lips, but it’s like a specter speaking. Vincent is no longer there.