Chrissy Sutherland

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Then he swept the Blackstaff from left to right, murmured a word, and ripped the life from a hundred men. They just . . . died. There was absolutely nothing to mark their deaths. No sign of pain. No struggle. No convulsion of muscles. No reaction at all. One moment they were firing wildly down at us—and the next, they simply— Dropped. Dead.
Changes (The Dresden Files, #12)
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