Shit! I picked up the receiver and must have sounded at least a little angry, because Jean-Claude said, What has happened now, ma petite? I was so relieved to hear his voice, I forgot to be mad. But I understood anger, and I wasn't Master of the City. The sniper had had nothing to do tonight. It's how he got to be furry once a month.
Five feet eight, blond, gray eyes, attractive. That wasn't it. You broke up with me, because, quote, you didn't want to love someone who was more comfortable with the monsters than you were, unquote. He still looked elegant, but sort of dissipated, like an elegant rake.
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