’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. I haven’t, anyhow. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. My concept of the reluctant vampire sprung from a rabid obsession with medieval history, especially the pre-Renaissance era of the Black Plague. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. Vorsack rose from the table and departed for the bathroom, mumbling something about a Tylenol.
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