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No, it was war, but no one wanted to say that. Least of all Jeren. He lets himself in through the low, wrought-iron gate, slipping in to the long front garden as it swings open and clangs against the stone wall that circles the pleasant-looking house. Its Victorian, looks to Rowan to be as sturdy and unmoving as Her Majesty herself. Six big sash windows surround a black-lacquered front door. Proper iron gutters criss-cross a dark series of lines across the houses big stone face. Peeping out at the rear of the property are two brick outbuildings with faded white front doors. Neither looks locked, or particularly sturdy. Checking behind him, Rowan quickens his pace and steps from the path to the long, soggy grass, cursing as he crosses nimbly around the front of the property and scurries on towards the rear. He glances at the darkened downstairs window. Sees the vague outline of a standard lamp, a mirror, the back of large TV. Through the rain, almost slipping, he runs to the first outbuilding and uses his boot to pull at the unlocked door. He looks inside – a big white tank in one dusty corner and a complicated series of pipes and fuse boxes at the other. Boiler room. He spots a small white box on the dusty wall to his right and looks at the gauge. The tank is showing as empty. Rowan, shivering, manages to fumble his phone from the pocket of the coat. Quickly, painfully, he takes a couple of shots. He steps back into the rain and moves to the second building. Tries the door. It wont budge. He yanks with his boot, toes under the lower half of the door, which hangs a few inches off the puddle-streaked stone floor. He hears the clank of a lock. He puts his face to the gaps in the damp wood, squinting, uncomfortable, peering into pitch blackness and flaking white paint from the wood with his eyelashes. He groans, lowering himself in begrudging steps down to the muddy floor. He pulls a face as he angles his head to look underneath – rain soaking his upturned face and trickling into his mouth. He manages to switch on the light of the phone and awkwardly shines it into the darkness. It takes him a moment to make sense of what he is seeing. The torch beam picks out a bare, grey room: the mortar gone from between the bricks, which seem to be held up by beams of rotten wood and great hanging veils of spider silk. The floor is broken up and dirty, a mulch of old papers and glistening black plastic piled in one corner. He changes the angle of the torch. There’s a rocking chair set back in the furthest recess: spindle-limbed and ribboned with cobwebs. In front, a fire sunk into the ground – ashes turnedto dusts. He lets the light linger there for a moment, straining his eyes. Slowly he turns the beam. The chair is angled to face a bare wall. It has been painted white, and Rowan has a sudden fanciful notion that perhaps this is where Violet comes to project movies. He tries to picture her in the chair, feet on the lip of the fire-pit, watching old films flickering on the bare brick. He can’t imagine why she would. Can’t think why she … But Indarin held the meat up to his mouth and reluctantly, Shan took a bite. It was hard to work his teeth through it, harder to chew, but his mouth flooded with juices as the need for food struck him. He swallowed it down, and took another mouthful. Youre lucky. I stared after Sampson. Wagner never believed a word I said about Salyer. Youre the finest warrior of our sect, Shan. When he didnt reply, she touched his shoulder, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. Only that skin to skin touch betrayed it. One day you will understand, I had to pick you. Im glad youre thinking of my personal safety. Everythings fine. Ill stay in touch to let you know Im okay and check on things. I’m picking up a new phone, and once I have it, I’ll call to give you the number, but that’s something I’m going to ask you not to give Max. The guy whod made the dildo comment lifted his pint to his lips, his elbow brushing Samaras arm. He stepped back and his staff moved in a blur, sweeping right at her head. Jeren dropped and rolled, coming up just in time to see the butt stabbing towards her midsection. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding it. The training Shan had given her came naturally now. Part of her wondered if Indarin was really trying, his movements seemed so graceful, so leisurely, and yet another part knew that was a lie. The staff swept by her face, and the wind it stirred up blasted her hair back. If she had moved a moment later it would have struck and struck hard. She tried to back away and the next thing she knew her feet tangled around the staff and she went down heavily, the air dashed from her lungs. She looked up as the staff came hammering down at her. Any bright ideas on how Im supposed to handle this? My ex-partner had six personalities, and I didnt like any of them. You know… she said, snatching her hand back and pulling the picture up and off the nail, I think I might hide this after all. Just for now. Her eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay closed. A sensation persisted: a dancing stroke across her left cheek. The dainty tickle gently pulled Samara from her slumbers, and surrendering to the ongoing caress, she opened her eyes. The article about his death was a bit vague, says Rowan, glancing back at Shipley. The other man is looking at him too, whispering in Dazs ear. Rowan ignores them, focused on Vicky. The door between the front and the back offices opened.I ordered you out of town. Wagner appeared to have aged in the last few hours. And hed been drinking. I could smell the liquor twenty feet away. She turned away, her body twisting to smoke and shadows, but her voice lingered on the breeze like a taint.So isshe. I was just saying. She arches her back, feeling the old wound pull on her stomach. She feels as though she is coming to the end of things. She wonders if this is how Derrick felt in those final days– as if hed been spread too thinly over too much bread. Whether hed let go of life in tiny steps or whether death had come in one great colossal punch. If you had the fire of the desire you claim to hold for her, that might do you some good. But it isntproper is it, Shan? You cant save a lover with your love alone unless shes your wife. That would shame you. And so would mating with a creature like that. I believe that case is closed. The coroner ruled it a suicide. He pulled her along the street to his favorite inn. Lets have a drink and talk about your Denova case. Then Ill take them somewhere isolated, away from any of the races. Somewhere safe where they cant hurt anyone. Because if I dont... He glanced back at them. They want so much to kill. Not through malevolence, but because it’s all they know. They were Fellna and the magic changedthem. And me. I can’t desert them, my love..