Adele chewed on her inner cheek. “Maybe your kind doesn’t know how to fix it.”
“You always want us to be something other than what we are.”
“Because I’ve seen you,” she pointed out. “Vampires aren’t just faceless monsters to me.”
“I am alone.”
“Are you sure? Maybe there are others and you just haven’t met them. Maybe you’ll find them.”
“It had better be soon before you remove them all from the Earth.”
“That’s not what you want,” she replied quietly, frightened of his desperate tone.
He reached out and swept snow off a stone window ledge, watching the powder vanish into sparkles in the sinking sunlight. “Adele, we are like the mayfly. We rise in great numbers, but rest assured, we will fall and go back to the Earth. You can be content that the time of the vampire will pass.”
“You mean you’ll all just die?” Her steps faltered.
Greyfriar gripped her hand tightly, holding her, their fingers entwining. “No, but regardless of what happens in this war, we will someday destroy ourselves because we chose this path of gluttony and depravity. Our end may not be in your lifetime or that of your children, but it will happen, and we will trouble you no longer.”
“I fear your end may well be in my lifetime.” Adele squeezed his gloved hand. “Look at your people. I am the weapon that caused this.” She couldn’t continue. Visions of vampire children in Grenoble and the Rwenzori Mountains tore through her mind, vampire children she had killed. They were the same creatures as Flay and Cesare, but they were just children; they were blameless. In some ways they were like the little girl she had promised to keep safe here in this church courtyard. “Do I even have the right to do this? How can I be responsible for genocide? How can you even look at me?”
“Never doubt my love for you, Adele. How could I not love you? Your mind and your heart never stop working; you never stop trying to find the right path. There is always hope in you. That’s why you came here to find that girl, even knowing you would likely never see her again.” Greyfriar shifted as he faced her, and his glasses caught the sun, glaring and blinding her. “You have to simply have faith that you saved her.”
Adele swallowed hard, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She nodded as he drew her into his arms and his absolution washed over her, easing the weight on her chest. His cape fell over her shoulders like a shield against the world.
She drew several deep breaths. Then she sighed heavily, as she knew the moment had passed and duty once more pressed on her. “They expect me to go to St. Etienne.”
“No, Adele.” Greyfriar pushed her back and clutched her shoulders in strong hands. “You can’t do it. You can’t save the world by yourself.”
“If I have this power, how do I dare send young men to die?” Adele’s face was stricken, but a terrible weariness lurked behind her eyes. Even her passion for her soldiers, her people, was taxing her. She lowered herself onto a snowy ledge with a stuttering exhale and allowed herself the luxury of resting her head in her hands.
“You are completely spent. Don’t forget, I can hear your heartbeat. I can sense you in so many ways. And I can tell you that you are much weaker than when you arrived. You might not survive another such event.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I may not know when, but I know it.” Greyfriar knelt before her. “Listen to me, Adele. Let’s say you got to St. Etienne to relieve your forces there, and grow weaker. Then you strike Lyon, and grow weaker still. Who can say how long you will last? Perhaps you then strike Geneva. And perhaps your faltering heart gives out, and you die. Forgetting the unendurable loss to your homeland and your family, and to me, your army will have no experience fighting vampires. They will know nothing but how to follow you like puppies. Those cities you have cleansed will be refilled by my kind, who will cut your people to pieces. Look at Grenoble. Without you, General Anhalt’s men would likely be dead now.”
“That’s my point.” Adele exclaimed. “As long as I’m here, I can protect them. I don’t see why it can’t work. You yourself said the clans wouldn’t support each other. We should be able to move north while I strike one clan at a time. I can recuperate between attacks.”
The swordsman replied, “Vampires aren’t stupid. They learn and adapt. These clans you’re encountering now don’t know you, or understand what you’re doing. But soon, they will. Word will spread. They will smell you and your power, and they’ll flee before you can strike. They’ll drift into the forests and mountains. And then they’ll return when you’ve exhausted or killed yourself. All for nothing. For nothing.”