By Tom Piccirilli
Are you the person who helped him kill the angel?
Twenty years of repressed anger and stories. A sour knot of hatred that binds and divides acquaintances. The darkish mystery that fuels and devastates them both.
He killed it. I simply helped him to bury it.
Eddie's doing his top to get by means of, yet each day the great struggle simply will get more durable. And now there's a brand new burden to shoulder. grey - his ally and nemesis in literature, romance, and existence - has landed in a weird and wonderful psychological sanatorium, recognized for its radical remedies, simply because grey couldn't endure the load of an unspeakable trauma.
The final time they met, grey nearly killed Eddie, however it turns out that each one is ultimately forgiven. this night, there's a wild hootenanny up at Gray's house.
And Eddie's invited.
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Are you the one that helped him kill the angel?
Twenty years of repressed anger and stories. A sour knot of hatred that binds and divides associates. The darkish mystery that fuels and devastates them both.
He killed it. I merely helped him to bury it.
Eddie's doing his most sensible to get via, yet on a daily basis the great struggle simply will get more durable. And now there's a brand new burden to shoulder. grey - his ally and nemesis in literature, romance, and lifestyles - has landed in a weird and wonderful psychological health facility, recognized for its radical remedies, simply because grey couldn't endure the load of an unspeakable trauma.
The final time they met, grey virtually killed Eddie, however it turns out that each one is ultimately forgiven. this night, there's a wild hootenanny up at Gray's house.
And Eddie's invited.
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They have been victims.
Cold and stark, an unknown terror gripped their desires and grew to become their days into residing nightmares.
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Additional info for Frayed
He’d tried it once or twice with her. Damn near worked. Good-looking vamp. Weren’t they all? She went back to examining the bodies. She decided Korzha must have fed on at least one of the dead guys, and that was why he wasn’t twitchy. “Lucky accident? ” she asked, still crouched beside the bodies. D. uniforms, dark blue and body-hugging, tended to fit poorly in the crotch. She had long legs, and her uniform pants kept riding up. “Well,” the vamp said in his smooth voice. ” Yeah right. If it weren’t for bad luck… “Vamps don’t have bad luck,” she retorted.
Eventually, though, she noticed the rest of her body: aching, throbbing—not in a good way at all—but definitely there. She didn’t dare move her arm for fear the pain would take off the top of her head, but she did shift her legs. Movement was good. Agonizing, but good. She lay on a hard and unforgivingly icy surface. But for her shoulder, which felt on fire, she was cold. She groaned. She could make noise—another bodily function retained. Movement and vocalization? Good. Jeez, her head hurt. Check that.
She prayed her assumptions then would be correct. That was what she was using to control the bot. With her back flat against the bathroom wall, she watched her spy’s data stream across her field of vision. According to the bot, it was in another room about four hundred feet square. There were no fluctuations in air pressure or temperature. Since only a fool relied on technology alone, Claudia tried to slip into what she liked to call her hyper-concentration mode, but the fuzz in her brain interfered.
Frayed by Tom Piccirilli