The Pale Dance
The rain had turned the cobblestones of the narrow lane behind the University of Edinburgh into a slick, reflective mirror, and Julian Vane was running, his breath coming in ragged, white bursts that vanished almost instantly into the damp, heavy air, while the sound of his own heartbeat seemed to drown out the distant rumble of traffic from the main road and the sharper, more insistent clatter...
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