Nathaniel sighed. “Mark, Lazarus has a story you should hear.” “Yeah, I bet he does. Can I have a word with you, Nat? Only, without leaving a bloody magster in my rooms. You want to step outside, mate?” Lazarus folded his arms. “Not really, no.” “That wasn’t a question.” Lazarus wore a faint, nasty smile. “You know, Roy suggested you might give me a hand. But if you can’t spare one—”
I REALLY don't like Lazarus...
