. “What’s going on with you?” John asked inquisitively, looking down at her abdomen. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. “It’s his birthday.
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