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THIRTEEN 3 page

“Right now, luv.” He threw some clothes at me, pulling a shirt over his head without even glancing at it. “As soon as you get dressed.”

 

FIVE

 

THE PLANE TOUCHED DOWN JERKILY. IT didn’t bother me, but I saw Bones compress his lips into a thin line. He didn’t like to fly. If he could’ve managed the distance, I think he would have tried to talk me into flying the really friendly skies. The one where I was strapped to his chest with him as my own private airplane. Still, everyone had limits.

We boarded a mere three hours after we left Spade’s house. My uncle Don pulled some strings after I called him and informed him that we had to return to the States right away, so the full flight from London to Orlando suddenly had four more seats. Having a family member with high‑up government connections came in handy sometimes.

Mencheres and Spade stayed in London, but two vampires named Hopscotch and Band‑Aid came along with us. To kill some time, I’d asked them how they’d chosen their nicknames. Hopscotch, an Aborigine who knew Bones over two hundred years, said that it had been his adopted child’s favorite game. Band‑Aid had grinned and said he’d picked his name because he was ouchless. I didn’t press for more details from him on that.

We were the first ones off the plane, ushered outside by the flight attendants. The plane wasn’t even hooked up to the terminal yet. Instead, we got off on one of the tall transport ladders usually reserved for service workers. A limousine was parked nearby, and the window rolled down to reveal my uncle.

I hadn’t seen him in a couple months. When his lined face curved into a smile, it struck me how much I’d missed him.

“I thought I’d surprise you.”

Bones cast a watchful eye around before leading me to the vehicle. Band‑Aid and Hopscotch circled, sniffing the air like bloodhounds while we ducked inside. Then they followed after us and took the opposite seats.

On impulse I hugged Don, startling both of us. When I let him go, I heard a familiar voice from the front.

Querida , no kiss for your hombre?”

“Juan?” I laughed. “Don’s got you on chauffeur duty?”

“I’d drive a tractor to see you.” He grinned, turning around. “I missed your smile, your face, your round luscious–”

“Drive, mate,” Bones cut him off. “We’re in a hurry.”

Don looked taken aback at Bones’s brusqueness. Normally Bones and Juan were quite chummy, all hierarchy aside, since Bones had turned Juan into a vampire last year and thus Juan was under Bones’s line. Juan also seemed surprised at Bones’s curt comment, since he always flirted with me–and any female within a hundred yards–but Juan didn’t say anything. With a last, quick grin at me, he drove off.

“I asked you to have a safe car waiting for us in a low‑profile manner.” Bones started in on my uncle. “Instead, you parked a limousine straight up to a plane. What were you thinking?”

Don tugged his eyebrow. “Wait two minutes, then see if you should criticize.”



“We’re both just tired,” I said, then thought to Bones, No one even knows we’re back in the States. Quit biting people’s heads off. But I squeezed his hand at the same time, promising him silently that we’d both feel better once we got where we were going.

“I’m rather testy, Don, forgive me for barking at you,” Bones said, curling his fingers around mine in acknowledgment. “You, too, Juan, but do me a favor. Keep your compliments to a minimum. I’m afraid it’s a sore subject at present.”

“Bueno, pero cuál es el problema?”

“English,” I reminded Juan.

“He wants to know what the problem is, luv.” Bones leaned back and tapped my hip. “Seat belt. All I need is for you to be injured in a car accident.”

I clipped the buckle into place. “Happy?”

A black limousine whizzed by us. Then another. And another. I looked out the back window in amazement, seeing a line of at least a dozen limousines all on the outbound road we traveled on.

“The cast of the new Miramax movie just got clearance to leave the airport.” Don gave a last, satisfied tweak of his brow. “Poor people, they were held up at Security. They’ve been waiting for hours.”

Bones started to smile. “Crafty old spider, aren’t you?”

“I’ve had practice hiding her, if you recall.”

A derisive snort came from Bones. “Yeah, I remember it well.”

“Play nice,” I said. A pissing contest between them was the last thing we needed.

Bones gave my fingers a squeeze. “Don’t fret, I’ve moved past my anger with him. In fact, he might be useful. So tell me, old chap, do any of your barmy scientists have a pill that prevents someone from dreaming?”

Don listened in morbid fascination as I described what was going on with Gregor, my potential past with him, and why he was called the Dreamsnatcher. When I was finished answering all his questions, two hours had gone by, and my uncle almost looked ill.

“Juan, pull off at the next exit, we have another transport waiting for us at the Shell station,” Bones directed him. “Kitten, you’ll only have a few minutes before we’re off again.”

“I’ll see what I can do about pills for Cat,” Don said once he’d recovered. “I should be able to have something made that could help.”

Juan exited off the interstate and pulled up to the first gas station on the right, which was a Shell.

“Ah, here we are. Juan, vaya con dios, and Don”–Bones held out his hand–“take care of yourself.”

Don shook Bones’s hand. “I’ll have those pills researched immediately.”

I gave my uncle a hug goodbye, even though we weren’t big on displays of affection for each other. Still, who knew when I’d see him again? Aside from my mother, Don was all the family I had.

“Thanks for coming along for the ride, Don. It must have played hell with your schedule.”

“My appointments could wait until later.” Don squeezed my shoulder. “Be careful, Cat.”

“I promise.”

Hopscotch and Band‑Aid were the first out of the car. They did a quick perusal of the gas station’s perimeter, then indicated with a thumbs‑up that it seemed clear. Bones went over to a maroon SUV, exchanging a greeting with the driver. Must be our new ride.

I got out and went around to the driver’s side of the limo. “No hug, buddy?”

Juan put the vehicle in park but kept the motor running, climbing out to give me a bear hug devoid of his usual ass‑grab. “Hombre is in a foul mood,” he murmured.

“He just hasn’t slept. We’ll be fine.”

“Kitten.” Bones tapped his foot. “Very out in the open here. Let’s not linger.”

“Right.” I gave Juan one last smile. “Stay out of trouble.”

“You too, querida.”

I headed toward the door marked WOMEN on the exterior of the gas station, giving Bones a mental directive that he didn’t need to stand guard outside the bathroom. The interior was gross, in a word, but I didn’t have much choice. If I really never wanted to grace a public bathroom again, I’d change into a vampire. Since I’d chosen to remain half‑human, there was no one but myself to blame for the inconveniences that involved.

 

By the time we crossed the twenty‑two‑mile bridge leading to New Orleans, it was evening again. I’d never been here before since it hadn’t been necessary during my tenure with Don. The Big Easy might not be low on crime, but surprisingly enough, they seemed to be of the human persuasion, not rogue vampires or ghouls.

Bones refused to nap during the five‑hour drive from Tallahassee to New Orleans. My guess was he was afraid I’d nod off if he wasn’t watching me like a hawk. Hopscotch drove, with Band‑Aid in the passenger seat. As we crossed the bridge, I finally asked why we were paying a visit to the famous city.

“I need to speak with the Queen of Orleans,” Bones replied. “She’d be a powerful ally to have on our side if things escalate with Gregor, but she doesn’t fancy phone calls when someone’s asking for her assistance.”

“Another queen?” Europe had less royalty than the undead.

He cast me a sideways look. “New Orleans’s queen is Marie Laveau, though she goes by the name Majestic now. Marie’s one of the most powerful ghouls in the nation. Those rumors of voodoo? They weren’t rumors, pet.”

I didn’t like the sound of this. The last queen I’d met with mystical powers had almost killed all of us. Women were scarier than men, in my opinion.

“Is it safe to see her if she’s into the dark arts and all that?”

“Marie holds herself to a very strict etiquette. If she grants you a visit, you have safe passage to, during, and from that visit. She may tell you she’ll slaughter you first chance she gets afterward, but she’ll let you walk out unharmed. Then, of course, it’s a right fine idea to keep walking.”

She might be a polite hostess, but what about every other pulseless person in the city? You know, ‘Oops, Majestic, I offed some tourists’?”

Bones gave a grim snort. “There is no ‘oops’ with Marie. If she sides with us, no one will dare attack within the Quarter. Even Gregor.”

“Are we staying at a hotel?”

“I have a house here, but I seldom use it anymore. An old friend lives there, keeps things tidy. Not sure how long we’ll stay since my meeting with Marie hasn’t been scheduled yet. Marie prefers to have people here if she decides to see them.”

The streets grew narrower. By the time we approached the French Quarter, they were all one‑way. Brick and stone replaced stucco and plaster as the city seemed to age in an instant. Yet the most striking feature had nothing to do with architecture.

“Bones.” My head whipped around in amazement. “My God, look at them…”

His lip quirked. “Quite something, aren’t they? Don’t strike up a conversation with any of them; they’ll talk your bloody ear off.”

The ghosts were everywhere. Hovering over the rooftops, strolling down the sidewalks, sitting on benches next to (or on top of) unwitting tourists. As we stopped at a red light, our car was next to a group of people on a tour, ironically about the haunted history of New Orleans. I watched as three spirits argued over the errors in the guide’s narration. One of the ghosts was so incensed, he kept flying through the tour guide’s midsection, causing the man to burp over and over. Poor bastard probably thought he had indigestion. What he had was a pissed‑off spook in his gut.

I’d seen ghosts before, but never in such magnitude. Somehow, with the vibe the place gave off, apparent even through the car, they seemed to belong here.

“It’s beautiful,” I said at last. “I love it.”

That made Bones smile, easing the strain from his face. “Ah, Kitten, I thought you would.”

The SUV stopped at an intersection past the busiest part of the Quarter. Bones leapt out and came to my side of the vehicle, holding the door open.

“We’re here.”

Rows of what appeared to be town houses dotted the street, but few had front doors.

“It’s the way they were designed,” Bones replied to my mental questions, as Band‑Aid drove away, and Hopscotch stayed with us. “Creole families found them pretentious. You enter through the side.”

He went through a gate at the entrance to a narrow alley and opened a door along the wall. I followed Bones inside, struck by how opulent the interior was in comparison to the somewhat grungy exterior.

“Liza,” Bones called out. “We’re here.”

I whirled, polite smile in place, to see a girl coming down the staircase.

“How lovely to meet you, chère,” she greeted me in a lightly accented voice.

“Um…” I held out my hand, tripping over my reply. Liza was a ghoul, so she probably had socks older than me, but good God, she looked about fourteen in human years.

Her hand was thin and delicate, like the rest of her. Liza was five‑two, if I wanted to round up, and had to weigh no more than ninety pounds soaking wet. Black hair that looked too heavy for her swayed when she stepped up to Bones.

Mon cher …”

One glance at her face when she looked at him was all I needed to confirm my suspicion of their former relationship. You’re a pig, Bones. I always suspected it, but this is absolute proof .

Bones hugged her. Liza practically disappeared in his arms, but I caught a glimpse of her face. A beatific smile lit her features. She was pretty, I realized. I hadn’t caught that at first.

He released her, and she backed away, returning her attention to me.

“I have food prepared for you, Cat, and coffee. It was my guess you would prefer caffeine?”

“Yeah, a lot of it.” If I hadn’t been so tired, I’d have already hit Bones. She didn’t even look old enough to see an R‑rated movie. “Thank you.”

I suppressed an urge to tell Liza to sit down, before the air‑conditioning blew her over. Instead of the usual, instant dislike I felt for any woman Bones had slept with, I had a strangely protective feeling about Liza, absurd as that was. One, she was dead, so she didn’t need my protection. Two, judging from the discreet flashes of her gaze at Bones, she was in love with him.

Pedophile!

“Liza, would you please inform Cat how old you were when you were changed?” Bones asked, giving me a pointed look. “I’m about to be assaulted because of a misassumption.”

She laughed, a shy series of sounds. “I was seventeen. I think if I’d been human, I would have been referred to as a ‘late bloomer.’”

“Oh.” At least that wasn’t a felony in current times, and from Liza’s vibe, that would have been legal back when she was alive. “Why didn’t you wait to change over, then?”

Something in Liza’s face clouded. “I couldn’t. I’d been poisoned and was already dead. I’m only here now because I’d drunk vampire blood that same day. My family shipped me home for burial. After my body arrived, Bones broke me out of my grave and raised me as a ghoul.”

“Oh!” Now I felt even more like a bitch. “Sorry. Whoever it was, I hope he killed the hell out of them.”

She smiled in a sad way. “It was accidental. A doctor gave me the poison, thinking he was treating me. Medicine’s come a long way since 1831.”

“Speaking of medicine, we should call Don. Maybe he has something for me.”

“Are you ill?” Liza looked surprised.

“She’s not,” Bones stated. “Has rumor of Gregor’s claims reached here yet?”

Liza shot a quick glance to me. “Yes.”

“Right, then.” Bones sounded even wearier. “Means Marie would have heard them as well.” He strode to a phone and started punching numbers into the line. After a second, he began speaking in a language that didn’t sound French, but close. Creole, maybe?

Of course, that meant I didn’t understand a friggin’ word.

“He’s telling the person who he is, and that he desires a conference with Majestic,” Liza translated, guessing my frustration. “He’s saying he wants it with all haste…they’ve put him on hold, I think…” Made sense, Bones wasn’t talking. His fingers drummed on his leg as the seconds ticked by, and then he began again. “Yes…yes…He’s agreeing to wait for a call back.”

Bones hung up. “No need for me to reiterate. Now you can ring your uncle, luv. Do it from your cell, I don’t want to occupy this line.”

He was almost curt. I reminded myself that he was suffering from jet lag, lack of sleep, and no small amount of stress. While Bones filled in Liza on details concerning Gregor, I dialed Don. By the time I hung up, Don had given me instructions on the dosage of a medication and promised to have it sent immediately to me.

“Don made something for me,” I said as soon as I hung up. “It’s supposed to knock me from consciousness straight into deep sleep, skipping REM. But it only lasts about seven hours, so then you have to counter its effects by giving me blood to wake me. That way I don’t go into a lighter, REM sleep when it wears off.”

An expression of relief washed over Bones. “Makes me glad I didn’t kill that chap when we met like I wanted to. That’s excellent news, Kitten. I didn’t think I could stand to let you fall asleep, wondering if you’d disappear from my sight even as I held you.”

The emotion in his tone dissolved my earlier irritation at him. If the shoe were on the other foot, and it were Bones who could vanish, yeah, I’d be spitting nails, too.

“I’m not going to disappear.” I went to him and wrapped my arms around him.

Then Liza’s phone rang.

 

SIX

 

I WANDERED AROUND THE TOWN HOUSE, struck by its size. It had a beautiful interior, wrought‑iron balconies, and three levels. The walls were painted in strong hues, with white elaborate crown molding. All the bathrooms I’d seen were marble. In short, it was rich and tasteful without making me afraid to sit on the eighteenth‑century chairs.

Pieces of Bones’s influence were seen amidst the feminine touches. A collection of silver knives. Couches that cradled instead of cramped. Of course, I had time to notice such things. He’d left to see Marie without me.

His announcement that he was going alone sent me into a sputtering, livid objection that had Liza hurrying from the room. Bones took my anger in silence, waiting until I’d finished to flatly refuse to take me. He said my presence would distract Marie from hearing him out, or some crap like that.

I didn’t believe him for a moment. Bones was just trying to protect me again. If I wasn’t going, no matter his claims of “safe passage,” then it meant his meeting with her was dangerous. Still, it boiled down to either physically wrestling with him when it was time for him to leave or letting him go with promises of payback. I chose the latter.

So, after I wandered around the house, I took a bath in a claw‑footed tub. Then I put on a lace robe and began roaming the house again, looking for a washer and dryer. I didn’t have clean clothes to wear, and nothing of Liza’s would fit me. It was too early to buy something new, either. The only thing still open after three in the morning was the bars.

When Bones returned, it was almost dawn. He came through the door, pausing at the sight of Liza and me. We were on the floor, and I was braiding her hair. While he’d been gone, I’d struck up a conversation with Liza. She seemed to be a truly nice person, and I’d come to like her with surprising quickness. I gave Bones a single, lasered glance even as I melted with relief that he was safe, then resumed my attention to Liza’s hair.

“Your hair is gorgeous. So thick. You should grow it until you trip over it.”

“I see the two of you are getting on,” Bones said with faint astonishment. “Aren’t you going to ask me how it went, Kitten?”

“You walked in and took the stairs one at a time,” I answered. “And you haven’t barked at me to get in the car, so I take it Majestic didn’t tell you our asses were trophies for hunting season. Am I wrong?”

His lip curled. “Still brassed off at me, I see. Then you should enjoy this–Marie wants to meet you, and she refuses to let me be present when she does.”

I laughed with a sharp, self‑satisfied guffaw.

“God, Bones, you must have argued yourself blue in the face. Hell, I like her already.”

“Thought you’d fancy that.” His expression told me how unamusing he found it. “Should I leave you to your braiding and take myself to bed? You seem to find Liza’s company preferable to mine.”

“Really annoying when you have to sit back and twiddle your thumbs while the person you love goes off into danger, isn’t it?” I said, not feeling guilty in the least.

“I didn’t relish the thought of leaving you behind,” he shot back. “Yet you’re almost cackling over your chance to do the same to me.”

Liza’s head swiveled back and forth between the two of us. Since I still had three of her braids in my hands, however, that made it more difficult.

“You didn’t care how I felt, as long as I stayed behind,” I flared, the tension from the past several days catching up with me. “So yeah, I’m enjoying the payback. Guess that makes me shallow.”

“It makes you a spiteful brat,” Bones snapped, striding forward until he loomed over me. “What say you to that?”

I dropped Liza’s braids and got to my feet. So the gloves were off, huh? “That it takes one to know one. What’s the matter? Are you mad that you sauntered in there, swinging your dick at Marie and reminding her about old times, but you didn’t get the results you wanted?”

“For your information, I have never shagged Marie.” Bones actually jabbed me in the chest as he spoke. Liza scrambled out of the way.

I gave an incredulous glance down at his finger, still pressed into my chest. “Get that off me or I’ll knock it off.”

His brow arched in open dare. “Take your best shot, luv.”

You asked for it. My fist connected with his jaw. Bones ducked before I could land another one, green flashing out of his eyes.

“Is that all you’ve got? Not nearly good enough.” And he jabbed me in the chest again.

Oh, it’s on now, honey!

I grabbed his wrist and yanked, kicking his shin at the same time to throw him off balance. He was too quick, though, leaping over my sweeping leg and using my momentum against me. One light shove in the back had me sprawling into the couch. Liza let out a horrified bleat.

“Please, both of you, stop!”

I ignored her. So did Bones. My pulse sped up in anticipation as I got to my feet. The opportunity to blow off some steam with a full‑fledged brawl sounded great to me. From the glittering green in his eyes, he was game, too.

But just to be certain…“Sure you want to play rough?” I asked, keeping my mind blank of my intentions.

His smile was smug, taunting, and sexy as he let me draw close. “Why not? I’m winning.”

I smiled back. Then I rammed my fist into his stomach. Take every cheap shot, Bones had taught me when he trained me years ago. Who said I didn’t pay attention?

But instead of doubling over like I’d expected, he flung me straight up over his shoulders. My body cracked against the ceiling, knocking the wind out of me. I had a split second to kick off the crown molding before he flew at me, and he hit empty space instead. I rolled when I hit the floor, knocking over the coffee room table in my scramble to get away.

He was on me in the next moment. A gloating smile met my gaze as Bones pressed his full weight down to hold me. The top of my robe had sagged open, leaving my bare breast rubbing against his shirt as I squirmed under him. He glanced down, tracing the inside of his lip with his tongue.

“Give up now?” he asked.

My heart hammered with excitement even as I wanted to smack the smirk off his face. He’d left my arms free, which was a mistake.

“Not yet.” I reached behind me and grabbed the first thing my hands made contact with. Then I heaved it over my head at him.

The marble coffee table split into large pieces when it crashed over Bones. It hit his head, dazing him, which I took advantage of. I’d wiggled out from under him and was about to crow over my victory–when I felt twin iron bands cut into my ankles. I tried to twist away, but he held on, shaking the table remnants from him. The only thing in reach was the pewter serving platter. I grabbed it and brandished it like a weapon.

“I’ll use this next!” I warned him.

Still gripping my ankles, Bones blinked up at me. I glanced around, seeing Liza in the far corner with her hand stuffed in her mouth, horrified. Hopscotch and Band‑Aid lingered near the doorway, not knowing what to do.

All at once, I started to laugh.

Bones’s mouth twitched. Liza’s eyes bugged when he let out a chuckle. It grew even as mine did, until he let go of my ankles and we were laughing helplessly together.

Bones shook the marble remains from his head, still laughing. “Bloody hell, Kitten. Never thought to be flogged by my own furniture. Do you know I saw bloomin’ stars when that cracked over my nog?”

I knelt next to him, raking my fingers through his hair to get out the last of the table’s shards. His eyes were bright green, and the laughter caught in my throat when he yanked me closer and kissed me.

His mouth was hard, demanding a response. The adrenaline inside me changed to something else as I gripped him back with equal urgency. I had time to hear the door shut behind the hasty retreat of our three onlookers before his body flattened mine.

“We haven’t sparred together in quite a while,” Bones murmured as his mouth slid down my throat. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it.”

His hand caressed up my thigh without restriction, as I still had nothing on under the robe. A primal sound came from me when his fingers stroked between my legs.

“Seems you enjoyed it, too,” he whispered.

I tugged at his shirt, ignored the pieces of the table everywhere, and slid my legs around him.

“I need you.”

I wasn’t just talking about how much I wanted him. I’d hated the distance between us the past few days. Right now, I was desperate to feel close to him. To believe that everything would work out, no matter how crazy things got.

He pushed me back against the couch, yanking down his pants. I groaned at the deluge of sensations his first thrust caused, biting his shoulder to keep from shouting at how good it felt.

Bones pressed my head closer as he moved deeper inside me. “Harder,” he said with a moan.

I sank my teeth in, swallowing his blood when I broke his skin. The small wound healed as soon as I drew away to kiss him.

His mouth covered mine, stealing my breath with the intensity of his kiss. “I love it when you bite me,” Bones growled once I broke away to gasp in air.

I held him tighter, my fingernails digging into his back. “Show me how much.”

A low laugh escaped him. He began to move faster.

“I intend to.”

 

Bones woke me with beignets and coffee, and we lingered in bed a while afterward. The surliness between us from before was gone, at least for the time being.

Since my meeting with Marie was tonight, we were still under her guest column, so we still had safe passage in the city. To take advantage of that, we toured the French Quarter. I didn’t need a jacket with the hot August weather, but I did put on sunscreen.

Bones led me from Bourbon Street to Jackson Square, then to the Saint Louis Cathedral, which looked very similar to some of the churches I’d glimpsed in Paris. After that, we stopped at Lafitte’s Blacksmith shop, one of the oldest buildings in the Quarter. While outside sipping a gin and tonic at one of the tables, I looked up to find a ghost suddenly standing next to us.

“Sod off, mate,” Bones told him. “As I was saying, luv, during the Great Fire–”

“It’s wretched justice that only the crazies care enough to talk to you when you’re dead,” the ghost muttered. “No vampire or ghoul will even bid you good day.”

Bones made an irritated noise. “Right then, good day, now off you go.”

“She’ll wonder who you’re talking to,” the ghost smirked in my direction. “Think you’re mad, she will–”

“I can see you,” I interrupted.

If someone partially transparent could look baffled, he did. Eyes that might have been blue narrowed.

“You don’t feel touched,” he accused.

“You mean psychic? I’m many things, but not that. Isn’t it a little rude, though, to plop down and start chatting away when we were having a conversation? You didn’t even say ‘excuse me.’”

“Kitten, I warned you about talking to them.” Bones sighed.

“I didn’t think you’d speak to me,” the ghost replied, starting to smile. “The undead”–he nodded at Bones–“just ignore us. They’re among the few who can see us, but they don’t even care!”

He spoke with such impassioned resonance, I would have patted him if he had been solid. Instead, I gave him a sympathetic smile.

“What’s your name? I’m Cat.”

He bowed, his head going through the table. “I am Fabian du Brac. Born 1877, died 1922.”

Bones leaned back in his chair. “Fabian, splendid to meet you. Now, if you please, we’re rather busy.”

“You’re Bones,” the ghost stated. “I’ve seen you before. You’re always too busy to talk to us.”

“Bloody right I am, nosy spectre–”

“Bones.” I tugged his arm. “He knows who you are!”

“Kitten, what does that…”

His voice trailed off as what I was mentally shouting penetrated. Then he turned his full attention to Fabian and smiled.

“Why, mate, I reckon you’re right. Sometimes I need to be reminded of my manners, I do. Born in 1877, you say? I remember 1877. Times were better then, weren’t they?”

Bones was right about ghosts being talkative. Fabian blathered on rapturously about bygone days, the sewage of modern culture, favorite presidents, and the changes in Louisiana. He was like a walking encyclopedia. It was amazing how much a phantom could pick up. Like, for example, the recent influx of out‑of‑town ghouls in New Orleans. Their hushed gatherings. Gregor’s name kept popping up, along with whispers about a threat to the ghoul species.


Date: 2015-02-28; view: 440


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