I thought of Marius with his brush and the pots of egg tempera.
"How could you have ever believed anything that they told you after they burned those paintings?" I asked. "How could you have given yourself over to them?"
Agitation, rising anger.
Caution in Gabrielle's face, but not fear.
"And you, when you stood on the stage and you saw the audience screaming to get out of the theater --how my followers described this to me, the vampire terrifying the crowd and the crowd streaming into the boulevard du Temple -- what did you believe? That you did not belong among mortals, that's what you believed. You knew you did not. And there was no band of fiends in hooded
robes to tell you. You knew. So Marius did not belong among mortals. So I did not."
"Ah, but it's different."
"No, it is not
