Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. There was barely room for one, let alone two, in the passage, and Melusine ended up backwards, supporting Jack as best she could as he stumbled along, grasping the rough walls on either side with both hands. Rank ingratitude, I call it.
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