“What do you think I should do?” A glint sparks in her eye, like the darkness inside her is knocking to get out. She scoops up Maggie and strokes her, like Doctor Evil strokes Mr. Bigglesworth in Austin Powers. “I think you should hit him.” “And I think that’s an excellent idea.” Tor groans. “Fuck’s sake. Fine.” He straightens up, rubbing his hands together and cricking his neck. He rounds the counter and braces himself on the other side of it. “Just don’t knock out any teeth; my smile is my best feature.”
