I'd have never been able to keep that much hair out of the way without help. I got some names. If I accidentally sucked someone's soul out through their mouth, Jean-Claude thought I'd be less cut up if it was Byron and not Nathaniel. I want to stop this, not make it worse.
I laid the knives on the bedside table on his side of the bed, again, trying to be quiet. That one percent chance suddenly seemed like it wasn't good odds. As happened so often, tonight I didn't have to explain, or give detailed instructions. There was no logic to pulling away from a kiss and putting myself flat on the bed.
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