Anne Rice - v1, Lasher

The sleeves were rich and embroidered there was a

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Unformatted text preview: aring to collect him later for supper and to make Michael eat something as well. "So many people are trying to make me eat something," Michael murmured at the sheer wonder of it. "Ever since Rowan left. Eat, Michael, eat." Within moments, they were gone. The big door had shut for the 473 final time. There had been that faint vibration throughout the house that always sounded damaging, Michael thought, but probably wasn't. Aaron remained at the far end of the table, across from Michael, leaning on his elbows, his back to the windows. "I'm happy for you and Bea," Michael said. "You get the poem I sent to you with Yuri? The note?" "Yes, he gave it to me. You must tell me about Julien. Tell me what happened, not as some snoop from across the Atlantic, but as your friend, please." Michael smiled. "I want to tell you. I want to relive every second of it. I've been sort of jotting it down up there, you know, so I won't forget. But the truth is, Julien had one purpose. It was to tell me to kill th...
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