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Viktor is finally alone and hidden from the gang—or so he thinks. Someone has come to trade words—rare currency in a city that trades in blood—their language measured, each phrase calculated to cut without spilling. Viktor’s instincts tell him to let them in. His instincts have been wrong before.
By Jan HerringtonViktor is finally alone and hidden from the gang—or so he thinks. Someone has come to trade words—rare currency in a city that trades in blood—their language measured, each phrase calculated to cut without spilling. Viktor’s instincts tell him to let them in. His instincts have been wrong before.