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EPILOGUE

ONE YEAR LATER

Garth, who has been courting the librarian for some time now, said my books are doing well.

Travelling with Vincent isn't always easy, but it has gotten easier over time. The endless walking doesn't bother me now, nor does the lack of sleep. The signs and omens haven't troubled me for some time now. Nor have the headaches. Everything seemed to have bled away in the bathtub that night.

He keeps me with him. The tape he made of me, I've never watched. He's never put it to sale either, to the chagrin of Bertha, who has seen it and is convinced that its one of his best.

I know where I'm meant to be now. I've liaised with vampire hunters and I've befriended vampires. I've met knights and witches and people who aren't quite right. And I know that now, I'm one of them too. A ghoul in the night. Sometimes, when I think of my old life, I consider myself more of a ghost back then than I am now. Vincent plots a course, I follow. We're getting to know each other now, as if we'd met at university all those years ago. I write and write and write. A little book of Vincent. I'll give him something to remember himself by that's not just an ill-named birth certificate, or incident reports or admission records.

I still can't help but put myself into everything I write. I think I deserve it, in a way.