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Valentine felt like a guest at some demented dinner party waiting for the post-prandial game of charades to begin, and it didn’t surprise her in the least that the humans had gravitated toward each other in this awkward tableau. Daniel stared dully into the fire, nursing his drink, Jesse perched on the arm of his chair like a watchful chihuahua, every muscle alert and quivering under her thin, pale skin, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
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By L. Kennedy ClarksonValentine felt like a guest at some demented dinner party waiting for the post-prandial game of charades to begin, and it didn’t surprise her in the least that the humans had gravitated toward each other in this awkward tableau. Daniel stared dully into the fire, nursing his drink, Jesse perched on the arm of his chair like a watchful chihuahua, every muscle alert and quivering under her thin, pale skin, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
Support the show