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He had always found hope harder to deal with than despair.
he owed.
Champagne! Hands like champagne!
It would be a great deal easier to walk away if Lucien Vaudrey was cast in the same mould as his brother Hector, and he wanted to walk away, very much.
Merrick was a solid presence, earth to Crane’s air, blocking the flow.
sharp and silver, standing out from the surrounding world like a knife in a drawer full of wooden spoons.
And he had cried, kneeling in the hallway, for the first time in years.
that future generations will mistake him for a tapestry.
It had nothing to do with the mental image of Crane’s long-fingered hands and lean, muscular, tattooed body, or the laugh lines around those lazy, perceptive grey eyes.
“They did a very cruel thing very competently, which suggests that they may have done such things before, or that they may find it easy to do such things again. In any case, it is not acceptable to continue down this path unchecked.”
“I bet you were.”
I’ve no idea what happened to her.”
Too thin, too pale, but his sharp features were appealing, and when his tawny eyes had been lit by animation, he had suddenly seemed very striking indeed. Passion would definitely improve Stephen Day.
The man seemed to be living on his nerves,
This house wasn’t a dead thing moving, it was a live thing dying.
“Learned opinion holds that hauntings are just shadows, like visible echoes.
cards had visibly relaxed Day,
Stephen Day had a keen mind and a puckish sense of humour, with a relish for the absurd.
in unspoken concord,
kind of energy that runs through everything. Through the air, through living things, in greater or lesser quantities. It carries, well, magic.”
pianist imagining music.
It’s more or less the definition of a warlock.
feeling the instant sharp needling of his skin as a comfort.
my life, you stole it,
I think it’s not Hector exactly, but it’s what’s left of Hector. Or what Hector is now.”
for you.
Crane’s need was suddenly, violently urgent after the night’s terror, and Stephen Day was kneeling before him, lips inviting, pupils dilated, a gift to be unwrapped.
“I have been clearing the abreaction for the last few minutes. This has been dull and uneventful, and you’re keen to go in and do something more interesting than talk to me. I’m very boring and drab and unattractive, after all, and you’d be much happier talking to Mr. Merrick. You want to forget about me and go in, so you’re quite glad to hear that the abreaction has cleared.”
except perhaps tiredness.
I suppose this whole business is a lot of sore points strung together for you.”
flowing in the most peculiar way.
“Suicide.”
“Took me five days on that ship to make sure of him. Mr. Day got his measure in an hour, if you ask me.
Crane leaned over and kissed him, deep but gentle now, letting Stephen feel his own salty sweetness on his tongue.
it will be because you want me to. Not against your better judgement, not in spite of my surname, and definitely not to annoy your aunt.”
It was part of a tangle of threads—the Judas jack, Hector’s ghost, and the unpleasantly wrong atmosphere of Piper, which nagged at Stephen’s instincts like a bad tooth.
But they both knew that Crane could have him at the crook of one long, slender finger.
It had also been painfully, dangerously exciting,
and he didn’t want him to.
“Besides, it gave me the opportunity to put a smile on your face.
won’t let anyone touch you again. You have my word.”
de mortuis nil nisi bonum,
Vernon, the solicitor, coughed into his wine glass and loudly asked Mr. Haining about some parish argument.
And then you stop hiding yourself for a moment, and your whole face lights up, and suddenly I can see just how you’ll look when I fuck you.”
Christ, you’re incredible.”
I’m here, and I’m not leaving you,
“I’m bloody glad you’re here.”