“It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. Charvill’s command of French was enough to tell him that, for its entire content was devoted to commending Nicholas Charvill’s fourteen year old daughter into the care of the Abbess. “You’re exactly as I remember you!” “Forever fifteen, remember?” She stepped closer to him into the light of the television screen. Brendon felt his arm seized. She brought her face to his chest, turning her head sideways so he would not notice her elongated canines. She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston. She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge.
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