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"All's over," muttered Jonathan. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade. Still unconscious of anything he did physically. " Silence. Obey my orders, and you've nothing to fear.
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