fine line
#12
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indent Gabriel bared his teeth in a faint warning. His body language was doing most of the speaking for him, and one step forward pushed him across the border line. Even though he had no doubt that DaVinci could outrun him, he wanted to make his point clear. “You aren’t welcome here,” he said slowly, as if the boy could not understand. Around his neck, the chain dangled, clattering the cross and Saint Christopher against one another in a faint twang of metal against metal.





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