Cabal could not have been more horrified if she’d pulled off her face to reveal a gaping chasm of eternal night from which glistening tentacles coiled and groped. That had already happened to him once in his life, and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. ‘What?’ he managed in a dry whisper. ‘Smile when you whisper,’ she said, her expression fixed and bloodcurdlingly coquettish. ‘You’re supposed to be flirting with me, remember?’
