we own the night (j)
#2
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indent In the moonlight, Gabriel’s eyes were two dying embers, both gold-amber and burning hellfire. He was following the borders, traveling at brisk pace to get out of the cold. Anselm had seemingly vanished. This perturbed Gabriel, if only because his cousin was not one who did this thing regularly. Inferni, of course, was no stranger to these sort of things. All of its leaders had vanished like ghosts in a fog, leaving no reason for their disappearance outside of a waning trail that led in any direction.


indent What drew his attention first was a noise, a raspy croak that was nearly understandable. It was a raven’s voice, one that was exasperated and exhausted. Marlowe. If Marlowe was here, Gabriel reasoned, that meant his daughter was not far behind. Quickening his pace, he came across the girl. She had grown, and she looked more like him now then ever (though she was thin, like her mother). It didn’t matter—she was here. She was safe.


indent A smaller voice reminded him that if she was here, her mother was gone. Ignoring it, Gabriel closed the distance between them.




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