Something, anything. His shorts had been shredded. Why, why would you tell me? To watch your face, I said, and my voice was soft, and not altogether pleasant. I knew that he'd tried to get information about a vampire murder when he shook my hand.
Clay was closest, and he jumped him. Either he wasn't wearing any underwear, or it couldn't keep him contained. I could feel something. Something, not so much evil, as just very, very not good.
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