Nobody toys with me. Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. They are their mother’s sons. They’re fairly intricate little things. I’ll kill you, Sheila, and I’ll kill her too. . He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal.
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