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“Your mom,” Thea said. “I know I’m not a familiar, so I can’t give her grandbabies or whatever she’s hoping for.” The last thing she wants is grandbabies. I packed Thea’s bags in the trunk, arranging them around her cello. When I closed it, Thea watched me, her fingers drumming on the roof. I moved to open her door, but she paused as she climbed inside. “I thought that was the whole point—of The Rites, I mean. More vampire babies.”

