Page 131 of Never Invite a Vampire to Dinner

“That’s a good argument.”

“It’s not an argument. It’s a question.”

“No,” says Rowan. “It’s an argument. And it’s a good one.”

Julian inclines his head.

“I’m not saying you’re right,” Rowan adds.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“And I’m not promising anything.”

“I didn’t ask you for that either.”

“What are you asking for?”

“Nothing.”

Rowan looks at him, and Julian gets to his feet.

“I came because you asked to speak to me, and I had declined three times without ever having the courtesy to do it to your face.” He pauses. “No.”

Rowan’s expression changes.

“No?”

“No. You may investigate Black Harbor. You may investigate my house. You may believe anything you wish about me. But I will not confirm your theory, I will not sit for your camera, and I will not open my private records to you. This is me saying no in person, on the record, so there can be no confusion afterwards.”

For a second neither of them moves. Then Rowan reaches over and turns the recorder off.

“Thank you for saying it to my face.”

“You’re welcome.”

Julian turns towards the door. Theo Goodwin, who has been drying the same glass the entire time, leans forward.

“Hey, Julian.”

Julian stops.

“That barrel needs to go through to the back.”

There is a tiny pause.

“Yes,” Julian says, and goes to move a barrel.

The Widow’s Lantern goes back to being a pub. Not all at once. There is a moment when everybody has to remember how, and then Bess asks whether anyone wants the chowder before she takes it off and three people do. Deirdre says something to Peg about the mailman. Wendell orders another beer. Doris demands a new cribbage opponent.

Arthur Finch finishes his beer, puts on his coat, and pauses on his way past Julian to say, to nobody in particular, “That beech is two hundred and ten years old.”

Then he leaves.

I find Julian outside in the parking lot at about ten past ten. He’s standing at the top of the steps with his coat over his arm, looking down at two hundred yellow lights reflected in the black water. He is not moving at all.

“Hey,” I say.

He doesn’t answer. I come and stand next to him, and I can feel the cold coming off him down the length of my left side. After a while he says, “I’ve never done that.”