A shiver slid down inside her. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. She brought her face to his chest, turning her head sideways so he would not notice her elongated canines. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. " "You, Miss Enschede?"—frankly astonished that one stranger should offer succour to another.
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