The sound repeated, and to Astaroth’s horror, he realized it was a sniffle. “Are you crying?” he demanded. “No,” came the aggressive, if muffled, response. Then, “Shut up and mind your own business.” He tried, but it was difficult. The sound of her soft weeping sent him into an agitated state. He needed to move around, fight something, kill something, anything to make the tears stop. “What would make you stop crying?” he blurted out when he couldn’t take it anymore. “Just leave it, all right?” She wiped her nose, steering one-handed. “I’m sad about my house.” “That bastard shouldn’t get to
...more
