I was on the far side of the broken bed, and Nathaniel was with me. I was beginning to suspect that was because Jean-Claude loved him, had loved him for centuries, when they weren't hating each other. I was getting better at thinking when the ardeur rose, but there were moments when thinking was not what I did. Did I really care what Arnet thought of me? No.
Nathaniel was staring at me with those lavender eyes. I said out loud, We're out of time. He looked up at me, and his eyes held something like pain. There was a door that led into their parish hall.
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