She had called the police on them anonymously. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. ” She replied. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. . ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. ” “Is she the one who made you into a vampire?” “Yes. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. ” That phrase about dragging the truth through swamps of nonsense she remembered from Capes. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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