Blood Day (43 page)

“Be well, Mike Novak,” she said, her movements becoming fluid again. She was an eel again, easing across the floor toward the shadows as though her feet didn't touch the floor.

“Is she all right?” said Mike.

Sia stopped and looked around at him.
 

“Genevieve?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “She’s fine. She wanted to come, but thought it wasn’t a good idea. She’s still not as strong as I am.” She looked at his neck and licked her lips. “She didn’t think she could resist you.”

“Was it all worth it, Sia? Was all the pain and death really worth it?”

Sia stared at him for a moment, her eyes cold as razor blades.
 

“Be careful of the truths you seek, Mr. Novak. You just might bite off more than you can chew.”

“You loved him. I could see it. Everyone could see it.”

Sia met his eyes.

“We cannot always have what we desire,” she said. “There are more important things than love.”

“Like what?”

“Children,” said Sia. With a blur of motion, the door opened and she was gone. Mike held onto the desk for support as his knees went weak. He made his way to the window and looked out into the night.
 

All the streetlights had gone out. He squinted into the darkness, into the shadows, peering as Sia had done, into the night. And for a moment, he could have sworn he saw a dozen tiny faces, full of sharp teeth, eyes glinting red. But when he blinked again, the street lamps came on and he saw only one figure standing in the light.

Viv looked up at him, cloaked in a red dress from another era. She raised her hand in a small wave, her face gentle and serene. He watched as she smiled up at him, and he had never seen her more at peace. Then the light sputtered out again and she was gone.

He was weak when he stepped away from the window, and he closed the shades against the night. He stared at the closed blinds for a long time before he turned and made his way toward the stocked liquor cabinet. Grabbing a bottle, he collapsed onto the couch. He felt empty and impossibly alone. He thought, for a moment, that he missed Kyra. But that was wrong. It was Viv he missed. It was Viv he would never be able to touch or kiss again. Mike leaned back on his expensive couch, drinking his expensive whiskey, looking around his dark, expensive office.

“This is no way to live,” he said to the empty room. He tipped the bottle back and drank himself to sleep.
 

And in his dreams, he heard the most beautiful music.