He looked hurt, and it wasn't my fault. But he wasn't a master vamp, and I didn't know for certain that he'd heal if I pulled his throat apart. I could still taste the meat, the blood, feel it going down Richard's throat. I've told you and your people the absolute truth.
The only walking dead they wanted to see tonight was Herman himself. necromancy that we cannot begin to guess at? I sighed, and was suddenly tired, not scared, just tired. Then whose? My surmise is Malcolm. There was already a pile of money at the far end of the stage, as if he'd been getting it all along, but only now was he letting them slip the bills in so close to his body.
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