There was a commode in the middle of the room across from the sink. Still, convincing his son not to become a vampire had earned me brownie points. I had a moment to feel his breath like heat on the back of my neck. I bet, I said.
He was dead. Muscles moved in his arms, shoulders, and back, as he set the tray on the table and began to pass out mugs of coffee. He faced me, putting one knee up to prop himself against the center panel. Evil, you were going to say, power to do such evil, was lost.
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