If Jean-Claude gained some of my practicality, making him more ruthless, then what did you gain? I mean I got some of your beast and your hunger for flesh. His face wasn't empty like a zombie's, in fact he was smiling, and so very present in his skin, but I'd called him, and even a gun barrel against his heart hadn't stopped that order. The fact that I'd done it accidentally didn't make it any more right. Hours early.
I didn't think I had any illusions left about murder and murderers, but I was wrong. It was the only thing that was different since I'd last been inside the building, some three years ago. God knew what he was flashing the graveside with. I lifted more of his braid in my arms, and it was like holding a snake, a soft, thick serpent.
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