“This is vile,” I growled, pacing the streets. “It’s late September, and it still feels like July.”
Yeah, it’s time for that talk. You see, when an eldritch horror and an overly curious human love each other very very much…
I leaned over as Jack and I sat at the red light, and checked the box in her lap. “How are those files going?”
“Is her presence necessary?”
“Friends,” said Alfred, in the tone that most people reserve for people on the opposite side of the political spectrum.
The child looked up at her mother, and her grandmother stood further still behind. All three shared hair of the deepest black but few other things connected them, save for their mien of iron and blood. They were brutal women and heartless. And yet I saw on the girl’s cheek a single tear trailing down, a trace of salt, regret for what she had to do, for she would taste mortality but know all along that it was temporary.