When Richard's mouth first found mine, and I drank in the taste of him like some almost forgotten addiction, I thought I'd be the one to run screaming for the hills. But Jean-Claude I trusted to referee. I shook my head. You're joking.
Which brought me back to the problem at hand. Happy? No, he said, because once Damian's dead, who do you think you'll start draining next? He was so angry that his eyes had darkened, so they were almost purple. I understood now how much he held back behind that careful face. Why? he asked.
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