Free Free
Mosley was desperately scratching barely remembered arcane patterns into the stones, using his fingers to find his way in the darkness. They'd seen the scars. They'd come for him for sure now. There was no getting away from the truth now. He'd taken a vampire, a demon, for a lover. It wasn't just grounds for dismissal, it was treason. He laid his spoon aside and began reciting, almost babbling, the Latin incantation. His last defence, his Watcher training. The door swung open. Mosley's eyes flashed in the darkness. He began jabbering in archaic Latin, making them creep back. "Don't try your tricks on me." The torch swung down and sent Mosley sprawling unconscious to the floor. "Cheap parlour tricks, nothing more," he told them. "The boy will be punished for his transgressions." He glanced down at Mosley, lying face down on the stones, then walked off, without remorse, without regret.
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