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The Seers closed rank before the tent as they approached. Shan pushed them aside without pause. He was all set to tear open the door, when something seized him, unseen, and unassailable. It coiled around him, held him there and for a moment, just a moment, he was back in the shadows, in the darkness. He sucked in a breath and he could hear her voice. Nonsense, she replied. If I can go, anyone can. But I had hoped... She let her voice trail off, waiting expectantly. The desires, the needs of the Fellna swarm which had claimed him. I hadnt discussed it with Gabriel, but it was something that felt right. We havent watched the news, but Christian told me Wagner killed himself and confessed to helping him. Theres supposed to be a nationwide manhunt on for him. The girl who remained transfixed in his headlight beams held that same organic fit. Certainly, no teenage Morticia, mysterious and sexy, likely to fuck you and devour you, oh no. Her long raven hair, solid boots, clothes that never revealed an inch of pale skin… Samara didnt dress to seduce or garner attention. Her look was a high brick wall topped with barbed wire: intended to keep everybody out. Same as her art. The snarling gargoyles on the walls of the church, trying to scare the bad spirits away, prevent them from entering the most sacred of houses. Her brother. The weight of shame sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach. Her brother had done this. The man she had stopped Shan killing, the man she had been too afraid to slay.How many? The words grated on her throat. Her mind feels as though it has been ripped into strips. She needs to get somewhere safe, somewhere loud, where she can try and put the picture into focus. Tyr had been the warrior among the original True Blood. And his descendents carried on that tradition above all others. Every single one of them. War. Gabriel opened his door.Hell accept. Another wolf. Get out of my way, Shan. I have to help her. She came back to defend me. With a roar, Leithen threw himself out of his hiding place. His battle cry shook the walls around them. Swords flashed as the rebels attacked. Jeren caught a glimpse of Elayne as she crashed into the first of Jerens guards, bringing him down in a heap. She didnt pause. Elayne never paused in battle. My phone rang just as I was heading downstairs after Maxs second scream that he was starving. Out of habit, I looked at the ID—unknown. I knew who it was. He was missing his rituals. Gabriel was getting weaker and popping more pain pills each day. I wanted to grant his last wish of killing Christian Salyer before he died. I hit the answer key. Hello, Christian. Hes come to a conclusion almost subconsciously. These past days he has changed his mind without noticing it. At first, hed seen a scenario with enough big gray areas to drop a narrative into. Hed seen an opportunity to take an insignificant missing persons case from 30 years back and pump itup into something compelling. Somewhere along the way he has begun to believe the bullshit. He believes that Violet, Freya and Catherine were abducted by a persons unknown and subjected to something terrible. He has seen no evidence that Freya ever came back. Violet began to remember things – terrible things - and sought out alternative therapies to try and recover her memories. She hasn’t been seen in months. He believes that Eve Cater is complicit in a cover-up. He has suspicions about the disappearance of a hippy caretaker-cum-guru by the name of Arthur Sixpence, the suicide’ of retired cop Derrick Millward, and the disappearance on a mountainside of Alan Rideal If he were a police officer, he does not think he would be able to make a case stick. But he’s not a police officer. He’s a journalist and writer and he holds himself to a far lower level of accountability. You walked to the kitchen, as cool as a cucumber, came back, cleaned up the mess, and acted like nothing had happened. Pickle laughs, open mouthed– his molars packed with enough undigested pastry to feed a family. New scoop, is there? New book on the way? I did read your last one. It was compelling. They like that word - the book-people. Everything has to be compelling. He stops himself, lost in some labyrinth of mental-cul-de-sacs..