" "A promise to my mother?" said Winifred, unsuspiciously. “Yes. It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. The boy she had loved was gone. But I have not done so, and will not. He sucked at her neck, biting her hard, leaving red marks that disappeared as soon as he made them. “Soul to soul. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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