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Eve thinks that she could have left it at that. She could have persuaded herself that it really was a goodbye letter from an old, fragile man who simply couldnt stomach any more suffering. Then she heard about the way he was found. About the mask, and the way he would wake, shrieking, in the cold dark space of his bedroom. Somebody sent him that mask, she knows that. It 3was on his bed, in a padded envelope. Somebody had left it there for him. Had he really staggered out to the old chapel, slipped a noose around his neck and pulled the ugly pig mask onto his face. Had he really dropped from a pew and strangled, slowly, in the dark? She would rather believe that than the alternative. Would rather believe he did it to himself than that the sins ofthe past were coming back to haunt her. and Book 3The Wolfs Destiny. Im in a one bedroom. Stop by the office and see if they have something bigger available. Tell Gabriel to have Karen come here. We have a lot of work to do. I forced myself to meet his gaze.You didnt hate me, and you dont hate Emma, either. Help me save her. If Joshua hates me that much, hell never let her live. I bit my lip to keep from asking again where she was. He didn’t want me to beg. The Enchassa. He knew it. Could feel it. She was coming. She would take him back this time and eternity would be spent in her dark caves and prison pens. The rest of his life being used, drained and changed. Made into her pet and toy. Her thing. One of them. Now he was using an innocent to fuel the spell, one designed by the Fellna enchantress. Jerens two worst nightmares had banded together. [ i_002.jpg] Shan had loathed Gilliad from the first, when the boy arrived in Sheninglas, so arrogant towards thesavages who thought they could help him. No, Shan had made no secret of his feelings. But Falinar had told him Gilliad was just desperately afraid, that his head had been filled his horror stories. They just needed to show him that none of it was true. Shans sister had always had an open, giving heart. Falinar took pity on the Holter, befriended him. Rowan wiggles upright, self-conscious. The only light in the room comes from the smouldering coals in the grate but they are enough to illuminate a scene of disarray in the small, cramped living room. Theyve broken the sofa, knocked a series of Coniston slate pictures from the wall and the contents of the log basket and fire bucket are scattered across the cobbles, interspersed with splinters of broken crockery. He isnt sure whether the sharp, scratchy pain in his back is smashed glass or Sumairas fingernails, embedded in his skin like a cat’s claws left in a tree. Samara surveyed him a moment longer, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. He doubted she could even see him over the blinding glare of the headlights. Finally nodding, she headed to the passenger side, steps awkward, head hung to hide her face behind her hair. Heart racing, Samara spun away from her, darting around the far side of the bookcase, running for the door. Shan frowned and glanced towards Anala. Part guide, part companion, the wolf knew what Shans soul told him to do, and she liked the idea even less than he did. She heaved out a breath, shaking her head rapidly. But that didnt change anything. I like this feeling. Like being part of the same swarm as Freya. I look at her out of the corner of my eye. So cool, so stylish: sitting there with her spell books and her dog-eared grimoires. Today shes reading a tatty paperback: a strange abstract painting on its cover.Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy. Shes promised to loan it to me once shes done. I’ll have to hide it from Dad. He doesn’t object to the blasphemy but he wants me concentrating on school work. Things have changed at school these past couple of years. The inspectors have been in. We have uniforms now and the yoga and reiki are strictly timetabled. All that stuff started being phased out once Mr Sixpence moved on. We still get pupils who haven’t done so well at other schools but we don’t spend as much time putting them right. Freya certainly doesn’t seem to have any issues. Doesn’t hear things or see things or spend her spare time holding the carp’s gills closed down at the ornamental pond. She’s just nice. She could have had her pick of friends. Instead she chose dowdy old me, Catherine Marlish, and Violet, who everybody else is a little bit afraid of. His voice held a strange emotion that twisted something inside me.All I want, Dakota, is to see you smile the way you did before Salyer. I cant. I have to do this on my own. Gilliad is still my brother, even if he has become some sort of monster. My blood. And it could just as easily happen to me. Gilliad glared at them, a thin smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.Ah, understanding dawns. The fuse box is in the basement. You and Karen check it out. Dont open the door until I get the fire out, and be careful. Salyer is somewhere in the area. I headed up the hallway. He hangs up, his head thumping. He feels as though he should drink a big glass of water but his body is craving something he can turn into the right kind of fuel. He knows hes nearly there – that the pieces are all laid out in front of him and all he has to do to complete the jigsaw is to chew one or two errant edges into a more pleasing shape. He wonders if he should call Matti. Maybe it would be better to go straight to Aubrey. He can picture her at some book launch, a glass of white wine in one hand and a tote bag full of paperback samplers in the other, toasting the launch of some hot new thing destined to set the publishing world alight. Hed like to remind her that shes already got a bona fide A-plus true crime writer on her books. He thinks of Sumaira, suddenly. He’s no doubt that when it comes to taking his findings to the police, she’ll be the friendly face best suited to the task. Just as quickly, his mind fills with the mingled faces of Violet and Catherine. Of two women who spent a weekend being tormented by a sadist and have spentthe last 30 years trying to be something other than victims. He shakes his head, angry at himself for considering it. Screws up his hands, painfully, as the thought trails another… where is Violet now? He suddenly come to the inescapable conclusion that the right thing to do would be to report his findings to the police and insist they begin treating her as an active missing person. All that is stopping him is the thought of the story leaking out to a competitor before he’s able to make it truly his own. And he isn’t sure that he really believes that’s a good enough reason to stay quiet. Shanith Al-Fallion is an old friend. I think we should make him a very special guest in River Holt. You can give him Haledrens old cell. Hed like that..