Alastor laughs, hitting the side of my head with the gun again. “Impure blood limits your future, no matter how hard you fight it. Ain’t that right, Aero.” “Touch him again,” Briony says calmly, raising the gun in an outstretched arm aimed at Alastor’s head. The men exchange nervous glances around us. “C’mon, touch him again,” she urges. “Give me a reason to take off the top of your skull.”
