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You know Violet? asks the lady, putting a hand, palm down, over the babys head. Violets away. The girl had floated so close that Samara could lean in and kiss those elongated lips the colour of bruises. Outside. Inside. An obsession. A confession. Most of all, an admission. I can show you. But its got to be kept quiet. If anyone found out— A smile flickered over his lips.Dont fall into the trap of thinking you must become like your brother to defeat him, Jeren. His thoughts turned to Dakota Dale.What would life be like without that excitement? Without any emotion at all? It wouldnt be worth living. Rowan gives a small bow. He cant dispute the logic and he actually admires her pragmatic approach. He can feel himself almost salivating at the thought of poring over the pages held out on her lap. He turns back to the window, looking through the haunted revenant of his own reflection and seeing a thin beam of torchlight flicking through the near darkness. Shit. Karen dropped the notepad and sat back. I didnt see that one coming. The Fellna pressed closer, sliding against him, touching his mind and his will, steeling him. It wasnt just the sword. He was the weapon. Rowan sits forward, elbows on the table.And the owners were questioned on that, were they? Jeren glanced at Indarin, and Shan was certain his brother winced. Whatever he had said to Lara, it had not gone well. Not well at all. Im not sure about Donna. She was the first one, but after that, I suspect the woman he was torturing killed the next one, and on and on until he came to me. Jeren swore beneath her breath and hoped he didnt hear her. Karen kept our coffee cups filled as we worked for the next three hours, sorting into different stacks.Heres a check made out to a psychiatric hospital in Manhattan for Sierra Dale. Looks like she was committed in 1994. Max held out the check. Probably gibberish, laughs Violet, dripping with disdain. She doesnt seem to be enjoying her cigarette. She winces with each drag. I cant help notice that the smoke doesnt seem to be going into her lungs. It just hangs around in her mouth before she blows it back out. In the valley below she could just pick out the small settlement, a gathering of round hide tents, patches of leather amid the green. The breeze carried the scents and the sounds of a small village, the distinctive smell of a forge and the unmistakable sound of metal hammering against metal. Elsewhere two lithe figures sparred with long blades, their movements quick and dangerous, sunlight gleaming off the weapons and the long white-blond braids of their hair. Jeren, where are you? In a second she didnt care about decorum or appearances, she didnt give a damn what anyone thought—not the Holters nor the Shistra-Phail. She threw herself into Torvins arms and he held her close..