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Summary
There’s no face left to speak of, but Lestat recognizes the purple necklace somehow unbloodied around the victim’s neck: the very same necklace Sarah had been wearing. He looks up at Louis, mouth agape suddenly. Louis tilts his head and brings his bloody fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out briefly to taste, and then it all makes sense.
Mine.
Series
- Part 8 of Anon Drabbles
