The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. “Why just take her limbs? Why not poison her, like me?” “Because, if you remember, she turned me into a vampire.
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