I think partly it gave them something to do. I glanced back to check on Micah and saw the dancer at the bar proving that it wasn't just his shoulders that could bend in amazing ways. Help us, Truth said, help us, master. I could joke, but her last stand on Jean-Claude had been adamant enough that we hadn't talked much since.
The trembling was quieting under the press of his hands. It looked as it had when we'd first walked up, like an old grave in an old cemetery. But this one even I could read. So I'll wait until I get home, so Clair won't have to explain why she's driving around with a werewolf in the car.
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