He was an old, skilled vampire. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you.
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