“No. I’m not Romeo and she’s not Juliet. She’s just dead.”

The Adversary stared at Rogasz silently. “You sound calmer,” he said. “More at peace than when we last spoke.”

“Just too burned out for rage. A day of shock therapy. Don’t expect it to last.”

“Nothing lasts, little brother. Things fall apart; the center cannot hold. Everything changes in time.”

“Have I changed?” He looked down at the dead girl. “She’s changed. She has definitely changed. But I’m still here. My injuries will heal like always, and then what? The same old thing?”

“That’s up to you,” the Adversary replied. “But if a vampire can find a moment of grace... who knows who might be next?” He gave the ghost of a bow. “Stay sane, little brother; I look to you as my inspiration. Stay sane, stay sane, stay sane.”

With a backward wave of his hand, the Adversary walked into the darkness. Full night had fallen: a night rinsed with soft rain.

Rogasz decided to wait beside the corpse a while longer — maybe the dog would come back.