I Should Die

believe it or not, though I die for people on a regular basis, I’m not a masochist.”
    His sad smile hit me like a fist. “Oh, Jules,” I said, and threw my arms around his neck.
    “There’s nothing else to say,” he murmured, pressing his face into my hair. And then he let go, walked to the waiting car, and drove away without looking back.
     
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    We were halfway across the Atlantic Ocean and Vincent hadn’t said a word. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulled me to him, and kissed the crown of my head.
    Leaning my head against his shoulder, I said, “I’m really sorry about Jules.”
    Vincent sighed. “Half of me hates him for falling in love with you. And the other half thinks, ‘How could he help it?’”
    He pushed my hair back from my face. “What I can’t believe, though, is that I honestly didn’t see it coming. We could have talked it out before it got to this. But I thought that Jules was flirting with you just like he does with any other pretty girl.”
    His expression changed from frustration to worry. “You don’t feel the same for him, do you?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
    I shook my head. “No. I mean, I feel close to him. And to be honest, the attention was flattering. But, as you said, I thought he was like that with everyone. For me, he’s the boy I love’s best friend. And a good friend of my own even apart from that. But I don’t have room in my heart for two.”
    Vincent looked relieved.
    “Are you mad at him for leaving you at such a bad time?” I asked.
    “No. One revenant won’t make a difference to the outcome of a battle. And he swore that if ever I needed him he’d be on the first plane to Paris.”
    “You didn’t tell him about JB, did you?”
    “No,” Vincent admitted, meeting my eyes. “And I’m not going to. If Jules needs distance, it wouldn’t be fair to tell him something that would pretty much oblige him to come back.”
    He took my hand and raised it to his lips, and then pressing it to his chest, he laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.
    “I’m sorry you lost your best friend,” I said. “I hope he’ll get over it and come back.”
    In the softest of voices, Vincent said, “So do I.”

THIRTY-FOUR
    IT WAS TEN P.M. WHEN WE ARRIVED IN PARIS. Ambrose and Charlotte were there to pick us up. “I thought I’d never see you again!” squealed Charlotte as she threw herself on Vincent.
    “Looks like you’re not rid of me yet.” He squeezed her tightly.
    “Man, it’s good to have you back,” said Ambrose, clapping him on the shoulder before turning to greet Papy and Bran. He scanned the doors behind us. “Where’s Jules?”
    “He decided to stay in New York for a while. Said he could use a change of scenery,” Vincent said, throwing me a warning glance as he gave his kindred the same story he told Bran and Papy on the plane.
    “He ditches now? When Violette’s plotting Paris domination?” Ambrose asked, looking confused. When Vincent nodded, the big revenant just shrugged. “Jules in New York? Man, he is going to have himself a ball.” He shook his head at the thought. “Here, let me take those,” he said, picking up a couple of suitcases.
    “Did you have a good time?” Charlotte asked, joining me as we headed toward an enormous SUV. “I mean, did you get to do anything else besides re-embody Vincent?”
    I smiled. “Yes, actually. I went to see my old friends.”
    She grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down. “Hurray! That’s fabulous news, Kate! One step back into the world of the living,” she cheered, and then quickly added, “I mean . . . not that you absolutely have to include humans in your social circle. But it made me sad that you had cut ties with everyone from your former life.”
    “I know,” I said. “I actually feel like a huge weight has been lifted.”
    “Well, you’re glowing,” she said. “It looks like the trip back home was good for you.”
    I grinned and hugged her tight.
    Once we were on the road, Ambrose and Charlotte caught Vincent up on news. We had been gone for three days, but it felt like weeks.
    Although Vincent told his kindred all about Theodore Gold and our experience in the Met’s crypt, he didn’t bring up the subject of JB. So I had to wait until we were alone, saying good-bye at my front door, to ask about it.
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Talk to JB on my own,” he said with an uncomfortable